We heard something flying over us. Without raising our heads, we hurried to the car. “Rather! Rather!” Mom hurried us. We had a few minutes. We ran to the car. I don’t remember how we got in the car or how we started to move.
The only thing I remember is the smoke, the houses burned down and the destroyed city. Everything was black and red.
I prayed all the way, but as soon as I got up to look ahead, I saw only corpses lying on the road and burned black tanks. The arrow on the speedometer reached 160 kilometres per hour, but we did not stop. It was a red corridor.
If we meet a russian tank, we are dead. I tried not to think about it. Blood and ashes around. I used to love the combination of black and red… but not now. We were driving on a deserted road. The smoke was further and further. But there was blood and devastation before my eyes.
Now I can’t stand the red colour—bloody red like corpses on the road. I felt nothing but hatred of fear. My eyes were covered with a red veil. I used to be full of life and joy, but not now.
Now I don’t feel happy, not after I saw it all, not after my young brother cried every day because he saw it all, heard it all. Nothing will be the same as before. To victory. To the victory of our country.
