Seventeen-year-old Anya lives in Kirov in her own special world. She knows Ozhegov’s dictionary by heart and fills her days with many strange rituals. Words for her are as alive as people, and for those close to her, her soul literally hurts in the best sense. The girl doesn’t realize right away that she has obsessive-compulsive disorder, and then she learns how to live with that understanding. This is a story of growing up and moral formation, as if the hero of “Bury Me Under the Plinth” were a seventeen-year-old girl. It’s a story of friendship and a sense of responsibility for herself and for those nearby.