At 4am on February 24, Irina was woken by loud noises and bright flashes.
She found out just two streets away from her home on the outskirts of Mariupol an old woman was killed and a child's arm was blown off.
"I understood we had to leave our house immediately," she said.
Irina, 51, grabbed her 14-year-old son and fled to a friend's place close to the city centre.
But this was only the beginning. They had no idea of the horrors that were yet to come.
Once a city of 400,000 people, about 65,000 have attempted to escape, often driving through mined streets in Russian-occupied territories or even fleeing on foot.
Of those who have managed to reach safety, many are sharing their stories.
This is Irina's account of her escape from Mariupol, as told to the ABC.
'There was hope that it would end soon'
From day one the bombing had been constant and yards were covered in shell fragments, yet one of Irina's neighbours was choosing to stay.
It was a family with two small children.
"When I left, I gave them my key and told them to use all I have: water, food, diesel, generator and firewood. I hope they survive," she said.
"I've had no contact with them since March 2."
Seeking refuge in the friend's basement, Irina said it took days for the reality of the siege to sink in.
Nobody could comprehend what was happening.
"There was hope that it would end soon. When the electricity was cut off, everybody thought that the power would be restored soon. But it was not.
"Then we lost running water, so people started collecting snow and rainwater."
Locals learned that there were a few natural springs in the city, but reaching them came with extreme risks.
"The bombardments never actually stopped and there were incidents of people being wounded and even killed on the way there," Irina said.
It was minus 10 degrees Celsius outside, and not a whole lot warmer inside, while supplies were running low.
"When there was no more gas in the city, it became scarier. How are we going to feed our children?
"We didn't have a lot of food supplies and all the grocery stores were either destroyed or looted.
"We started cooking outside on open-pit fires but it was difficult to find wood to burn.
Wondering how they would find a way out, they heard their situation was being compared to the blockade of Leningrad during World War II — that siege lasted nearly two-and-a-half years.
"It started feeling horrifying," Irina said.
"I remembered a coping mechanism I read somewhere — in difficult situations, try to look at yourself and your circumstances as if from the outside and this really worked for me and helped me not to lose my mind.
"My goddaughter Ksenia told me about her coping technique — think about those who have it even worse. Such a wise 13-year-old!"
News on escape routes goes silent
After losing phone and internet services on March 2, Irina said it became impossible to get reliable information about humanitarian corridors out of the city.
Word would spread of possible safe exit points and cars would form long lines, only to be let down.
"The first time we tried to escape was after hearing that a column of cars was forming in the vicinity of the Drama Theatre preparing to leave the city," she said.
"That attempt was unsuccessful because we were told by the Ukrainian forces that the way out was extremely dangerous and that there was no safe and established route we could use."
Irina said it became an endless game of word of mouth, with tales of both hope and horror.
"One day we learnt that quite a few people were successful in leaving Mariupol and that they managed to make it to the city of Zaporizhzhia about 300 kilometres away.
"But we also heard that it was extremely risky as parts of the road were mined … [and] some cars were shelled along the way."
'We realised in horror that it could have been us'
Rumours spread that information about future escape routes would be called out through a loudspeaker in the city centre.
But time was running out.
"We were constantly discussing any possible escape routes with my friends," Irina said.
"We finally decided to leave because we simply couldn't imagine our children continuing to live under these conditions any longer.
"The constant sounds of air raid sirens, the roar of the approaching planes with their deadly air strikes, intensifying shelling of the city made us finally make up our minds to escape."
On March 16, Irina and a group of friends left in a convoy of three cars. Their city lay in ruins behind them.
"I felt desperation and fury. Yes, it was fury not fear.
"People are not able to bury their dead, children are being born in bomb shelters, people are dying from shelling.
As they waited in a row of cars for three hours on the outskirts of the city, the road ahead showed little sign of reprieve.
Bombs could be heard in the distance and they knew they would soon be driving through occupied territories.
"The first leg was more or less calm … the next day we saw something terrifying," Irina said.
"A few cars that were a mere 30 minutes drive ahead of us had come under fire.
"As we were driving past a burnt car, the fields burning around us and a shell casing sticking out of the asphalt, we realised in horror that it could have been us if we didn't stop for a short break just half an hour earlier."
After days on the road — at times it would take eight hours to drive 100 kilometres — they made it to Zaporizhzhia.
'Now I have allowed myself to let go and weep'
Irina made it all the way to Budapest in her "constantly malfunctioning car" with her son, but many of her loved ones remain bunkered down in the decimated city.
"My niece and her daughter are still trapped in Mariupol as she is afraid to leave," Irina said.
"My sister and her family decided to return to their house that miraculously survived the shelling.
"They can't leave the city because they have a 95-year-old grandmother on their hands. Another family I know is still hiding in their own basement.
"I don't have a lot of information from those who are left in Mariupol – there are simply no ways of connecting with them.
It's too early to know whether Irina and her son will ever be able to return home.
For now, they "don't want to live in limbo" so they plan to start rebuilding their lives wherever they can.
"We are safe in Budapest and now I have allowed myself to let go and weep," Irina said.
"We all re-evaluated our lives and our values. All you can really take with you is your children, your memories and just a few possessions that can fit in your suitcase.
"It doesn't matter what clothes your wear when you are sitting in a cold bomb shelter.
"It does not matter what car you are driving as long as it is reliable. Bentleys and Ladas burn exactly the same."
