The Day of the Invasion

Hello! I hope you have all had a wonderful day! Upon reflection, I decided to post a short narrative about the day of the Russian invasion of Ukraine and how I reacted to it. Maybe in fifty years when they’re writing a book about it, someone will find this and use it, who knows?

Disclaimer: This is intended to be taken as a symbol of respect for the Ukrainian people. This is as true to what actually happened for me that day as I can remember it.

***

I stepped off the school bus, turning my face to avoid the sharp blow of wind on my cheeks. The day seemed insignificant. I had no tests, and it was slated to be a mundane day. The February morning sky was grey as I walked towards the door of the school.

I entered the building, holding out my school ID to the security guard. They never paid attention, but after a gun scare a few months prior, I viewed it as a courtesy to my fellow students.

I looked around at the lobby, my daily ritual to ensure nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was in its place. The group of kids clumped by the grand piano as a tune drifted across the room. The Dunkin’ Donuts coffee-bearing girls wearing fleece pajama pants, tank tops, and Crocs, despite the cool weather outside. And the steady stream of students trickling in from outside and climbing up the stairs.

I began the grueling trek up to the third floor, lost in my thoughts. I swerved around a clump of sleazy guys and climbed one more set of stairs to reach my destination. I was out of breath, like I was every single time I climbed them in the mornings. I always felt as if my legs would give out if I went up one more step, but they never did.

I pushed back my hair, which had been messed up by the wind, and reached my locker. I spun the metal contraption, succeeding in opening it the first try. However, my glasses had fogged up, stealing my lock-combo triumph rush from me. I huffed and yanked them off, adjusting my mask as the condensation cleared away. I replaced my spectacles on my face, then took off my backpack and coat. I put the discarded garment in the locker along with my lunchbox, and then slid my bag back onto my back.

I closed my locker and then made my way down the hallway towards my first period class. I planned to read a book while I waited outside of the room for the teacher to start class. My eyes landed on my classmates sitting in their usual spots. The boys who sat on the right side of the hallway were talking instead of playing Clash Royale on their phones as they normally did. I strained my ears to hear their conversation as I approached.

I reached the area and looked down from the clock on the wall as someone said my name. “Abby,” a then-friend of mine, Brenda, exclaimed, “Are you ready for World War Three?”

“What?” I crinkled my eyebrows, stopping in my tracks.

“Russia invaded Ukraine.” Brenda declared matter-of-factly. “So basically World War Three has started.”

“What?” I repeated in disbelief. My stomach had dropped and I set down my backpack, but stayed on my feet. I had known that Russian soldiers had been gathered at the border from memes, but my father had told me that they weren’t going to invade.

“Russia invaded Ukraine this morning.” Brenda repeated again, more slowly.

“Oh,” I said. I didn’t know what to think. “And now we’re in World War Three?”

“Essentially.”

“Wait…are you sure?” I asked. My thoughts were scrambling and Brenda’s words repeated in my head. Russia invaded Ukraine this morning. Russia invaded Ukraine this morning. Russia invaded Ukraine this morning.

Brenda said, “Well, the U.S. is probably gonna send troops there, and that means that it’s gonna spark this whole big thing.”

As a friend of Brenda arrived, Jack, she stood up and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. “World War Three is starting.” she said, and a string of colorful profanity followed. “We might get nuked…”

“That’s not necessarily true,” I said. “Russia invaded Ukraine, which is definitely a conflict. But there’s practically no chance of nuclear intervention.”

Jack and Brenda looked at me. “Modern warfare is really complicated.” I said, shrugging, by means of explanation.

At this point, I sincerely believed that World War Three was upon us. And it was the most terrifying realization that I’ve ever had. I tried to mask my fear with a smile and joined the posse of news-spreaders.

For the next twenty minutes before class, we roamed the hallways, uttering words of incredulity. We imagined what it could mean to be engaged in war. I started to explain my knowledge of modern warfare to a few people to help them calm down, citing the Vietnam War and my father’s reassurances about the very low chance of getting nuked.

As we entered our first period class, I looked out at the same grey sky. I had not taken my advice of not to be too concerned to heart. The sky looked different than it had when I had stepped off the bus thirty minutes prior. I half-expected bomber planes to appear on the horizon.

The teacher called the class to attention and Brenda called out the news. When we went on the Chromebooks for our assignment, the first thing I did was look up, ‘are we in world war 3’.

And the results were articles on the ‘special military operation’ that Russia had launched that morning. As I looked at those same three words on the half dozen articles I read, I felt a fear rising in the very depths of my heart. But I was also slightly relieved that it wasn’t WW3 yet. That was a little bit of goodness.

I spent that day binge-reading articles on the conflict, staring anxiously out the window, and restlessly tapping my nails or a pencil on my desk. I couldn’t concentrate. As I went to bed that night, it took me nearly an hour to fall asleep. My mind convinced me that every single noise meant we were getting attacked too, despite how ridiculous that was.

It’s still unreal thinking about it, even nearly three months after it happened. It meant that freedom was challenged by a cruel ruler. A free, sovereign nation was thrust into war.

And just as 9/11/2001 is permanently engraved in the minds of millions of people, I knew that 2/24/2022 was a date that I would always remember.

The day of the invasion.

***

I hope you enjoyed this narrative.

“If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” -Dalai Lama

The author of this narrative stands with Ukraine. 💙💛