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Chapter 1 - Under vår sol

July 23rd

        Sunday again. That means we were all hurried beneath the surface. Again. Into those old, wet and uncomfortable bunkers. Although I began noticing the constant movement down here forced some people to clean up a little bit. I think it's good, more and more people who remained seem to slowly move to the underground permanently. Good for them I guess. Though I would appreciate the clean walls more if I could actually see them through the sea of people pushing each other and falling over their own legs.

The lights flickered and the ceiling shook as another bomb hit the ground and small pieces of cement and dust fell on the book the boy cramped in between other survivors held. Aleksei sighed and blew away the dust off of the pages of his journal.

While I got pushed around by the crowd when we ran for hiding, I got separated from the old lady. Hope she's okay. And the garage. God, please don't destroy the garage.

Another bomb collided with the ground right above the bunker and all lamps inside went dark, leaving terrified people standing in pitch-black darkness. Aleksei closed the journal and held onto it tightly. Each time the lights went out like this, he counted the seconds before they went back on again. It usually didn't take too long, though sometimes it seemed the playful spirits of the light left people on the edge for a bit longer each blackout. But as usual, the lights flickered and set the gloomy underground room alight after several minutes.

Aleksei kind of hoped the planes would clear out the sky so the sun could shine down on the lifeless wastelands of Ukraine at least once. But when he finally stepped out of the underground shelter, he was once again greeted by the grey curtain constantly covering the sky. He sighed at the gloomy sight of his city and set out through the ruins. Aleksei decided to take a longer path to the house, just to take a peek at the damages this Sunday's airstrike inflicted on the houses.

Most of the places he knew remained intact except for a shop on the main street owned by some foreigner, where Aleksei used to get sent for groceries. It wasn't something to grieve upon though, the shop has been closed since the war started and the owner fled to the west. Other than that and several other houses, the destruction wasn't as severe as two months back. Aleksei kept on walking and thinking if it meant something. If it meant that the order wasn't interested in bombing the long-dead battleground it created.

A wave of relief washed over him when he turned the last corner and spotted the flat with boards for glass windows. His home for the last few months. He excitedly ran inside and up the stairs until he reached the 5th floor and entered an apartment with the door busted out of the hinges.
"Boy, how many times have I told you not to run up the stairs? I could hear your stomping from the first floor," the old lady sat next to the fireplace, trying to start a fire.
"I just wanted to see if you're fine, nan," Aleksei walked into the living room with the fireplace and sat down on the couch with an exhausted sigh.

The apartment he lived in during the recent trying times couldn't be called exactly a luxury hotel, but he was grateful for the company it offered. Each day he passed more and more tents on the street, which reminded him that the generosity of the old lady was very rare. With that in mind, he tried his best to repay her. Mostly by covering holes in the walls and placing cardboard over the broken windows, so the heat doesn't escape.
"So, I was thinking..." Aleksei started while he handed the lady more firewood.
"...if I could check on my ride today," the match sparked and set the dry wood ablaze. The weak flame started eating the logs and slowly turned into a full fire.

"I swear, all you youth think about nowadays are cars," the old lady shook her head and smiled as she got up from the floor and walked into the kitchen.
"But you promised if I cleaned the chimney yesterday, you'd let me go," Aleksei didn't give up and followed her into the other room. The old lady opened the pantry and searched through the canned food stacked on the shelves. Once her hands met the one labelled "soup", she grabbed it and moved to the dusty counter. Aleksei opened a cupboard and handed her a rusty pot.
"Alright, you doofus. But check the Geiger counter before going out," she smiled at Aleksei's attempt to convince her and allowed him to go.
"Already did! I'll be back for dinner!" Aleksei was already tripping over his own legs on the way out of the apartment.
"And remember! It's Sunday, so the supply truck will come around 7 pm," the old lady called after Aleksei that was already out on the stairway.