I left the house when lights were burning in all the windows.
I felt the streets were waiting for me.
Taxi are passing, but I have nothing to pay, and I don’t need them, I walk alone…
I saw the night, walked all night until morning.
On New Year’s Eve from 2017 to 2018, instead of sitting in a concrete cell and drinking, I decided to take a walk in one of the districts of Kiev. I really wanted to walk in these hours through the streets and dark alleys. I wanted to express my anger and revenge.
I took out a firearm pistol and ammunition from the hiding place. I wiped them so that there were no biological marks left on the bullets and shells. I loaded 12 bullets into the catridge. One bullet was immediately sent to the chamber, so it’s calmer for me. Then I put the safety catch on the gun and placed it in a holster, which was reliably fixed on my belt. Under my long jacket the holster doesn’t stick out. To access the gun quickly don’t fasten the jacket. But I like to walk like this since childhood, as well as to live freely.
In fact, I rarely carry a gun. This is very dangerous and risky. This requires serious responsibility. It is difficult to decide on this for someone who has no experience of using it in real conditions, who, without a permit for weapons, doesn’t overstep this ban, being afraid of possible punishment from the state. It is also difficult for those who have a sequence of criminal cases initiated by the authority. Therefore, deep down I respect people who, for their own defense and for achieving freedom, never part with weapons. The only exception is police and other servants of state regimes.
…I’m walking along Svyatoshinsky district. Don’t see any police around. I know that there should be more of them on the streets this night and flashing beacons will not be working on patrol cars. I enter the courtyard. There is a lot of anarchist graffiti on the walls. I am pleased that our brothers have painted here. But this delight interrupts the sight of expensive cars among simple ones. There is poverty in the country. My neighbor – a working man who lives with his wife and daughter, struggled to buy an Opel for 5 thousand dollars. I know how hard it was for him. And these bastards ride around in roadsters, sport cars and jeeps. They also park them on the sidewalks. They see that there are a lot of poor people around. They know that this is not normal. But they still emphasize their luxury and social superiority, towering over inequality and poverty, which is anti-human. Therefore, at the sight of the bourgeois cars I have the first idea – to punish, set them on fire, and if the owner runs out, then he will have a lesson. But now there is no petrol. I will do without it tonight…
The time is 00:05. From the windows of the gray paneled apartment blocks there are screams and cheers, somewhere music plays loudly. Residents of the district, sitting in apartments, drink, have fun, and stuff their bellies with various food. They don’t care that after it will be hard on their bodies. After all, it’s interesting to plump up. It’s distracting. Many people live like that for a long time.
Suddenly someone starts to throw firecrackers. I look around. From the entrances little by little go out fans of pyrotechnics, fireworks are launched. The streets come to life, explosions drive away the silence. Car alarms howl. No one reacts to it. In the air there is smoke, the smell of burnt gunpowder. All this excites me on a lot. For a moment I remembered the Maidan and the barricades of 2014. Passion for weapons and explosives haunts me all my life. From the kindergarten I liked matches and fell in love with bonfires. And now I take out a gun. I switch the safety switch to the “fire” mode. I squeeze the trigger. The bullet is in the chamber for a long time. I look around. The courtyard of the housing estate Nikolskaya Borshchagovka whispers to me – come on. I get into the rack and aim for an empty off-road car, probably, of a wealthy owner. Bam-bam-bam! The ears are ringing in my ears. The car is damaged by lead. But the alarm for some reason didn’t work. I remove the gun into the holster. I run through the schoolyard. I dive into another quarter and circle around the courtyards.
Putting one bullet on the way into another expensive car, I left Borshchagovka. An hour later I find myself in a residential area of Svyatoshino. By that time there were much more people on the street. A hundred meters from me a group of guys launched powerful fireworks. The explosions are so strong that the shot from the pistol simply dissolves in the noise. I noticed the Hyundai Sonata. I wanted to shoot it already, but I noticed a man running towards me. He was chasing his dog, which, apparently, was frightened by the fireworks. Once the man disappeared from my field of vision, I began to carry out my plans. I hid behind a corner of a high building. I looked around. Bam-bam! Two bullets pierced the side window. The alarm went off. I’m happy in my soul, I’m running to another quarter. A small fog helps me to get lost faster in the concrete jungle. There are 6 more bullets left…
After this I shot at two more cars. I returned home early in the morning. I drank milk and went to bed.
My revenge once again fell on the luxury cars, for the first time, lead bullets were used instead of the fire. I attacked a way of life and objects that emphasize the gap between the poor and the rich. I did it because I wanted to and could.
The dead return to take revenge!
Bourgeois and police cannot sleep peacefully!
Anarchist group “Revenge of Marusya Nikiforova”/ FAI
(Translated from the Russian text on Anarchy Today)