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You hear the siren start, just like every night. You check Telegram and don't see much. Sure it could be some drones and rockets as usual, but you value your sleep more than a couple rockets.
Some people go to the metro as a shelter, since it is large, clean, and fairly deep. But really, with there being drones and a couple rockets every now and then making it all the way to the shelter is kinda pointless.
You drift off back to sleep... you have things to do tomorrow...
You hear... no you don't hear, you're not that awake... you feel the world shake around you like a violent earthquake.
You open our eyes and don't see much, it's dark, is it a couple rockets? Usually you sleep through them, so you close your eyes again.
A louder bang, closer to this time, you are waking up a bit more and hear it. It feels like it was flying for a while before it hit.
You open your eyes and try to check Telegram, but before you can translate the messages, a loud roar passes over your apartment and you experience another horrible shake.
You drop your phone and shake your wife awake, you bring her to the hallway.
You hear drones - a loud buzzing sound like a motorbike engine. You aren't worried about those - they are slow and stupid, air defense handles them without worry.
You check your phone, thinking "well, if the rockets hit then it should be over, they sometimes send a couple and you go back to sleep".
Your wife says "maybe she should go back to bed" - she almost gets up, you can feel her nerves firing and her muscles start to move.
You however, hear a whooshing in the distance that she didn't. "No, don't there's two coming"
Again, explosion. or Four. This time extremely close. You hear car alarms sounding straight after.
You walk to your parent in laws room, with father fast asleep, mother frustrated you are awake. She wonders what the big deal is, just some explosions, she's heard it too many nights to count.
You check Telegram again, the number of rockets just counting higher and higher, 11?! God, last year it was just like 5.
Every minute passes, the number goes higher, the ground shakes more.
11...
15...
20...
It doesn't seem to stop, they are so random in distance you feel like you are mouse hiding underneath a counter hoping the human doesn't strike you from above.
You lie on the floor with your wife hugging her. You can think "I hope we are safe" but honestly, things are too loud to have complex thoughts like that.
You just lie with you eyes staring open. You don't want to process any of it, it isn't traumatic, you just don't know what else to do.
You keep reading Telegram. Zircon missile from the south. Khinzal from the North (Belarus).
25...
You check international news. Bullshit about Iran. Trump promised peace and gold. There's already been 25 rockets and not even an article is available on the BBC site.
30...
After an hour that felt like three, it feels a little quieter.
Rain starts outside, ironic. You read Twitter and Telegram, seeing what the Russians have hit this time.
Malls.
Book stores.
Car parks.
Art museums.
The Lavra, one of the oldest Slavic Orthodox Christian sites in the world. UNESCO Heritage, just makes it a nicer target.
45...
More rockets. In the lulls between, you check Twitter. It seems like everyone in Kyiv is awake.
Mourning.
Joking.
Bittersweet living.
You laugh at everyone sharing their fun experiences, like eating sausages with the power out from their fridge inbetween rockets.
50...
You check the news again. An article appears on the BBC finally. However, you notice they don't even say the number of rockets or drones. They just say "officials say there has been an attack". "Officials in Russia also say some died in a Ukrainian drone". You realise that BBC continue to try to "both sides" a genocide.
60...
Sixty rockets hit Kyiv tonight. On average, one every minute and a half. You realise you experienced the worst air attack on Kyiv in the whole war. Perhaps the beginning was worse, with artillery and closer combat.
However, it isn't a competition.
You are glad you and your loved ones lived.
You recognise that others did not.
You feel a vague sadness hard to pin down. You feel remorse these people you never met don't get to leave at the end of the trip.
You feel like you are being a war tourist, as if the adrenaline from the rockets hitting was at all exciting.
It's four in the morning. It seems fairly quiet now. You drag yourself to bed and the adrenaline wears off.
You close your eyes and hope that is it for now.
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