I See My Mother's Hometown In Nightmares. When I Was A Child, I Spent Half Of My Summer Holidays There.

I see my mother's hometown in nightmares. When I was a child, I spent half of my summer holidays there. It was quite dull; the town itself was sleepy and uneventful. The routine didn't change: waking up early, then to the local market, then to my grandma's dacha, then back home and to bed. No TV, no friends (except from grandma's), and a few books - I was happy to be back home. I wasn't thinking about this town much. And when, in 2014, russia occupied it. My grandma moved to my mom. She talked a lot about returning, to her garden, her things, to my grandpa's and uncle's graves. She made plans for her own funeral near them. But when she died, it was impossible to organize. So she rested far away from them. Since the occupation, I've often dreamt of this town. I walk its streets, pick flowers from my grandma's dacha, look around from her balcony and listen to swifts' cries. But lately, my dreams turned into nightmares. I tried speaking to locals and realized they saw me as a spy. I tried to flee the town, but the soldiers at the checkpoint arrested me. I tried to hide in my grandma's apartment, but someone banged on the door, and the floor crumbled under my feet… And the worst thing? For me, that's just a nightmare. It taints my memories, yes, but - thanks to the Armed Forces of Ukraine - I live in a free city. But for thousands of Ukrainians under the russian occupation, all of this is a horrifying reality.