Mother placed two bags I front of me on out old coffee table in the basement. The two large bags were the kind with straps to carry them on your shoulders. Mommy was so troubled with packing she didn't make me cookies.

She didn't even say...

"Z Dnem divchat, moya sylʹna, krasyva divchyna!" I blurted out, waving my hands wildlyin frustration. Mom didn't ever forget Girl's Day. She told me it was 'The most important holiday a female in our country could celebrate. A day of recognition for the two of us.' so we normally spent the day doing whatever we wanted.

We spent the day living. Flying free like birds. I think mom wasn't letting us do that today because of the loud booms and bangs outside that shook the house.

"Aw, sweetie you know mommy remembers! Things are just...different this year. " She sighed, throwing her face in her hands.

I wrapped my arms around her legs, giving her a tight hug. "I'm just angry and confused." I mumbled into her legs, tears forming in my eyes.

She crouched down giving me a quick kiss on the forehead then she stood, pushing me back. "I need you to pack. Clothes in one bag, blankets and toys in the other." She said, looking as sad as me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why did you pack-!?" She started, looking though my bag, " Whatever, your brining a coat." My coat was shoved into my hands, "Put that on and we'llbe good to go."

I didn't want to go.

Tears poured down my dirty cheeks. Dad left, we were leaving everything behind, and we weren't even celebrating my favorite holiday.

"Baby, I know this is hard for you." She whispered soothingly, rubbing her hand up and down my back. After a few minutes uses of calm, we held hands and walked- sometimes sprinted -through town.

I hid when told to, ran when told to, and kept walking when told to. I had little spurts of sobbing fits where I would suddenly break down in tears if I had too much time to think about things. After what felt like a day, I was tired of carrying my bags and tired of moving.

At one point, a strange man came up to us with two hands full of seeds.

"Take these seeds and put them in your pocket so at least sunflowers grow when you fall down here." he croaked, handing one handful to me and the other to my mom.

My mom ofcourse thanked the man and put the seeds in her coat pocket while I copied.

"Sunflowers, the flower of Ukraine." My mom looked down at me, and gave her pocket a pat "That's why he gave you these."

I shivered, "If I die sunflowers will grow out of me?" I breathed not thrilled with the thought of my body being a plant pot.

"They will grow out of your pockets if the Russians get you." She spat the word 'Russians' like she would a curse word.

"I hate Russians." I said firmly.

My mom gave my arm a smack, "No, don't say that. You can't hate millions of people because you don't like a few in that country. That is cruel and unfair. Maybe you don't like some of them but hate is a strong word." Explained looking down at me dead in the eye.

"I'm sorry." Tears collected at the top of my bottom eyelid but I blinked them away when my mother told me it was alright.

Not long later we had to hide again. Soldiers were in the town we were in and word had spread through the other people walking with us that the tanks had a Z on the front. How could the letter Z mean something so bad?

"Why does it matter if they have Z?" I whispered as quietly as possible.

"If they have a Z they are Russian tanks." My mother whispered back.

An older woman would check and see if there was anything and finally after ages of waiting the coast was clear. We walked again through more dangerous parts of our country, parts where it was common to see Russian tanks. There was no doubt everyone was nervous. People in our group screamed ad rocks flew at us but when someone got hit they...died.

"THERE SHOOTING!" A women shrieked to the rest of us.

More rocks flew and my mother fell down. I crouched beside her crying.

"Z Dnem divchat, moya sylʹna, krasyva divchyna. Alina, baby, tell the other women to get you out of here. Go, now." She laid on the sidewalk panicking about me and not herself, the one on the ground dying.

"No, I don't want to leave you. I'm not leaving!" I turned around and yelled to the other women, "My mom was shot in the leg help!"

It worked, we were all able to escape although we had to leave 3 behind, my mother were were able to help walk with us. We were close to the border, close to freedom.

Mom made it. I think, because I never saw here arrive here. Now I sit without my mom in a glorious place.

Don't worry, the sunflower seeds were put to good use.