I was in my home and heard much noise, as if someone was walking, stomping, or running on the roof. It was quite a commotion. I decided to go downstairs. To go downstairs I had to go through a square opening, the type you might find to enter an attic. The steps were more like a ladder. When I got down there it was almost like a cement maze. There were many people running around. There were plain-clothes police officers running frantically with guns. I crouched into a corner just as a police officer leaned against the wall over me and began shooting. A large group of men approached me, also trying to avoid being hurt, and crouched into the corner around me. We were being attacked by Russians. Some Russians found us and began shooting. It seemed that quite a few of the men around me were hit and some killed. At first, I thought they hit everyone but me and I thought about how there were enough men around me to keep me from being hit. At the same time, it almost seemed as though I had been hit also. I didn't feel any pain or anguish as I might have had I actually been hit. The next thing I know Matthew and I had been captured. We were assigned to sleeping quarters. Our sleeping quarters were oblong cement square holes in a wall. Each person had his or her own square. There was barely enough room to move. I was especially concerned about how tight it would be for me. They then gave us pajamas, or it may have been a uniform to change into. We were expected to change in our sleeping quarters. There was hardly room to move and there was no privacy. I tried putting mine on top of my other clothes and then removing my other clothes. Mine were too small so they gave me a larger set. I tried to do the same thing.