her name was Samira, a young and beautiful girl that just turned into 19 years old

I was sitting on the park bench, counting the crows to come. I threw stones at them. They would jump and sit further away. A little later, they would come back and march in front of me. The clock had withered from the time the flower branch that was in my hand was bent over.

The date passed. She did not come. Worried, confused, nervous, I'm tired. I got up and vented my frustration on the crows.I was thinking to myself: Why didn't she come? The last time I proposed her(asking for marriage), she was going to think about it and give me an answer. I think I got my answer. But at least I was deserve an straight answer.

I threw the flower on the ground and crushed it with my foot. Its petals were torn, spread, crushed. Then, I turned up the collar of my coat, put my hands in my pockets, and left. Before reaching the door of the park, her voice came from behind.

The sound of her footsteps and the sound of her breathing are also coming from my behind. I acting like I am not noticed. she come a little more after me. I walk faster and faster. then she yell my Name. "please wait. why you acting like this?" Just as she was calling my name, there was a grudge in his voice. I didn't care, I made my way to go.

I did not return my head behind. Even for a fight, argument, anger. I went out the door of the park. I was crossing the street. she was still coming after me. I could hear the sound of the heels of her boots.

she was running. On the other side of the street, I standing in front of the car. I still had my back to her. I threw the key to open the door, it opened, the sound of a loud brake horn and a cry - a short moan - I heard in my ears - in my soul.

I came back quickly. I saw her. she was Falling down on the ground. she fell in front of the car that hit her and the driver was hitting his hand on his head. her head hit the asphalt badly, her head was on the asphalt, blood was flowing from her head to the side of the street

Scared - I ran towards her. I stood on top of her, stunned. Confused, I looked at her.

In her left hand was a small package. The wrapped gift that she was holding tightly. I looked at my watch, it was 4:45. The sleeve of her coat that was up showed his watch. The watch on his wrist showed 4:05

Confused, I looked at the door and the clock of the unlucky driver was 4:05

I retold the story from the Samira boy friend tongue. I was interviewed from his brother and I his wish I cant revealed the boy friend Name. but I had to add that her boy friend sadly end his life 2 month after the incident because of he felt guilty.

I just felt compelled to publish this story somewhere because Samira's boyfriend's family did not tell the story anywhere to protect their reputation. I promised his brother who narrated the story that I will not publish the story anywhere in their motherland. Although I consider myself guilty and responsible because I feel that everyone must know the truth the girl deserved to know why she was killed. This was not just a simple car accident.

by Mehdi saidi