We rushed to the rescue, pushing through hell—through the whistling of bullets, blood, and the bodies of the dead. I thought I was leading them to life and survival, but in the end I brought them to a precipice. I was on the brink of death, but Lika saved me, getting me to the Dacha and giving me a second chance. While I was unconscious, new invaders came to the village: they demanded tribute, took the women, and seized our weapons. Again, someone thinks they have the right to decide who among us deserves to live—and who should beg for mercy. I’m not ready for a fight yet, but I’m alive, and I understand this: as long as you’re breathing, you have a choice. You can give up and surrender… or you can stand up and fight. I chose to fight.