Gods Are Not Judged by Regina Avakyan

I am sentenced to life imprisonment

for war crimes. I did a lot of bad things. But I don't feel guilty. I looked into the eyes of people on whom I aimed a machine gun and then shot at them without feeling guilty. I heard people's pleas, they were ready to do anything, but I didn't care. I came to their land, and I felt like God. I went to my brother in the direct shadow of the word. My family is from Ukraine. I was born in Odessa in 1988. I remember my happy childhood there. I had a wonderful life, I lived by the sea, I had a lot of friends, that's where I fell in love for the first time. I remember the moment when Masha, the younger sister of my friend Serhiy, came to us, when we all spent time together. We had a tradition of coming to the beach every night in the summer, fishing, playing ball or just lighting a small fire and frying potatoes. Then I felt happy. 

Soon we moved to moscow. I began to forget my friends and the time we spent together. I had contact with Masha and Serhiy for some time, but not for long. I have new acquaintances and new entertainments. Now I am an adult, as I thought then, I started smoking cigarettes and drinking vodka with new friends. So ten years of my life passed. My parents had friends in the military department and I was forced to go there to study. In fact, everything was not so bad. But then everything changed. We went to military training in Belarus, no one knew what we were going to do there, but I knew. I felt there would be something terrible. And so it happened, first, we drove to the border of Ukraine.

 Everything was quiet, we received no resistance. But then we went to hell. Ordinary civilians began to stop our tanks with their bare hands, throwing Molotov cocktails at us and shouting for us to leave their country. But we didn't care about them, although their resistance struck us. But we couldn't stand that some simple civilians could just stop us, and we started firing. We killed everyone who dared to say a word. Then everything became more fun: we drove to Bucha. A beautiful city, I had to admit, there are not many such cities in russia. Also, my colleagues and I had to admit that women in Ukraine are the most beautiful. Why should we not take advantage of the moment? There were many of us, but only I and three others went for it. We found a charming girl who looked 17 years old. Her mother, a 40-year-old woman, was with her. We tied her mother to a chair, and we began to enjoy the young beauty and virtue of the girl. She screamed and burst out, but it was even more enjoyable. She and her mother cried, and we buttoned up our pants and walked on. One man from our company also enjoyed the moment, but not with young and beautiful girls, he liked little boys. I remember a picture when he tied the boy's hands behind his back, met his needs, and then shot him in the head. We had a good time there. For a month we enjoyed life, lived in luxurious houses, and drank as much alcohol that we had never drunk so much in our whole lives. But we did not expect Ukrainian soldiers to come to us. My company was destroyed, they tortured us for what we did to their wives and children. I was taken like prisoner. And now I am in prison and awaiting trial. But I know the verdict. "Gods are not judged" was said by my colleagues, but it turns out that they are judged