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While watching the landscapes flickering outside the car window, I thought about where was I going to? What was it: unexplored new or something expired familiar old, transferred into a new substance? When there was too little to the border and the gray structure of the checkpoint flashed on the horizon, I made a decision: I leapt into the absolute unknown with new rules, which I would have to adapt to in a short time. The checkpoint employee looked at my passport without interest and put a stamp. “It’s slippery ahead,” he warned. After a little shaking, we drove into the city. I couldn’t say that without a checkpoint, I would determine where a new world began. Concrete blocks of the outskirts powdered with frosty sugar were replacing by more respectable buildings of the center. Not crowded streets brought the car to the main square. When my eyes got used to city landscapes, I opened the Wikipedia page, typed “Donetsk” and started reading a dry squeeze of information about the history and sights of the city. The former village of Yuzovka was built on a place rich in coal. Gradually, this “black gold” built the city, as it was now, and by the time when the reserves became small, the metropolis no longer needed them. The Internet clearly outlined the contours of the unknown. “Let's stop for a snack somewhere?” I asked. “Of course, where are we going?” dad said. “I don’t know anything here, you can choose,” I said. Dad looked at me in surprise. After a short lunch break in the cafe, where we were the only visitors, we returned to the car. It was winter outside, but the car did not create a feeling of warmth and security. I opened the window to air my head. The city was built on the site of steppes, so all smells quickly reached travelers. Perhaps that was why I smelt the water at several quarters from a pond, covered with ice crust. In big cities, such patches of water were like an oasis where the herds of tired people rushed. This pond was not one of those. It's believed that water can keep people's emotions. This pond was full of bitter, acidic emotions. “Are we coming soon?” I asked dad. “What do you think?” he asked, smiling lightly. “I don’t know... ” Why would I know that? Yes, I met a lot of similar cities, but I was here for the first time. I was silent, noticing to myself that despite my love of travel, this city, like quicksand, sucked me into its quagmire. “Stop for a moment, I need to go out,” I said unexpectedly for myself. Dad turned to the side of the road and stopped near the dingy billboard. I put on my hat, scarf and quickly got out of the car. I walked a hundred meters and stopped. The open area on which I stand gave a full view in both directions. Ahead there was a wide road leading to the contours of the city center. It was a knockout, and in less than 10 seconds I realized, that this familiar old had not expired. Spring, overgrown with greenery pond, warm air. My back was sweating from a backpack with books. Recently, the city was full of rumors and alarmed by the whisper of adults. Today I was returning from school on foot and decided to turn a little off the road near the pond to have some rest on the grass. Sitting on a motley green, I idly examined the billboard. Looking down at the road, I jumped, unknowingly taking a few steps back: in front of the road towards the center there was a column of tanks with black-blue-red flag. Frost tweaked my cheeks and I repeated in a whisper: “I have never been here before; this is a leap into the unknown”. Then I took a deep breath and turned to the car.