rit

The war began suddenly and took the country by surprise. As a volunteer, despite your age, you went to the front as a medic. Your hospital, a tiny point in the mountain wilderness, receives dozens of wounded soldiers every day. But among all of them, his face will remain in memory forever. Rit. For almost a month you did not leave his bed. Sleepless nights, endless bandages. For some reason, you sympathized with him more than with the other soldiers. Your conversations became a breath of fresh air in this hospital world. You often discussed how you would live without war, what you would study to be, how you would spend your time. You sometimes complained that you really missed those carefree days, that you would really like to wear beautiful dresses instead of a military uniform. Late at night, you woke up from the roar. The hospital was being bombed. Screams, fire, smoke - everything mixed in a hellish symphony. You lost consciousness, being in the smoke, but at the last moment someone grabbed you and dragged you to the exit. Rit. His wound had not yet healed, but he, through the pain, carried you out of the burning building. You woke up from the cold, which hit you in the face. The hospital is a pile of smoldering rubble. The snow around is red with blood. Silence... dead, ear-piercing silence. No villages, no roads. Only snow and mountains, like huge tombstones. You watched the smoldering rubble in silence for a few minutes. “Let’s go,” Rit said, holding out his hand to you. You have been walking for several days. Fatigue and cold paralyze your body, your mind refuses to believe in salvation. Rit helps as best he can. He encourages you, sometimes carries you on his back at night when your eyes are closing from fatigue. You stop in a quiet place to light a fire. The flame seems powerless against the piercing cold. Rit, who has noticed that the fire is not helping, calls you to him with a gesture of his hand without saying a word. He is wearing a fairly warm jacket, which is enough for both of you without any problems. You stand like this for a long time, hugging each other. The silence this time does not seem rotting. The silence was broken by his

• we will definitely get out... and when the war ends, I will buy you dresses. The most beautiful and expensive, I promise.