On April 26, 1986, I was five years old. I can’t remember this day very well, but it turned out to be a disaster( 灾难) not only for our family, but also for thousands of people from many countries. It was a really nice, warm and sunny day. I was outside with my elder brother and my little 13-day-old sister, who was sleeping in a pram under a tree. Suddenly dark clouds appeared in the sky and a strong wind started to blow. ( 55 ) Our mum told us to come into the house. While we were gathering our toys, she was trying to take the pram. The first drop of “rain” fell on my sister. It was only later that we found out the rain was radioactive (核辐射) water. At first we were not told anything about the accident. The government “didn’t want people to panic.” But they were afraid that the second reactor ( 反应堆 ) would blow up. Trains were made ready to send people away from our city. Since then the word “radiation” has come into and changed our life. Chernobyl deprived ( 剥夺 ) me of many joys of my childhood. Life went on as usual. I grew up and went to school. I studied very well. In 1998, I graduated from high school with honors and dreamed of entering a university. And here again Chernobyl interfered. I was diagnosed with a brain tumor ( 脑瘤 ) . My parents came back from Minsk, where my sister had just undergone (经历) a brain tumor operation. ( 56 ) I didn’t know how to tell mum that we had to go back to Minsk again for another operation (手术) straight after my sister’s. This was how Chernobyl poisoned my youth.