Nikandr runs through the snow; his muscles aching and his lungs are burning, but he can’t turn back. Not after the horrors he saw at the hands of his once comrades. He crosses the Russian border into Ukraine. He lays down weapons and gets on the ground. With tears in his eyes he shouts in between sobs Пожалуйста! he says in Russian Будь ласка, не стріляйте! he cries out in Ukrainian. He whispers to himself please…just don’t make me go back. his voice breaks
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