I look at the calendar and my eyes fall on May 8, 2021, a bloody day when schoolgirls were killed on their way to pursue education.
It was Saturday, and I was a little nervous about going to school that day. But I was already late and had to hurry. The school was a little far from our home. I quickly put on my uniform, put my bag over my shoulder and said goodbye.
My friend Fatima’s house was on my way, and we went to school together every day. That day, too, I had to pick her up. She was always slow to get ready, and I kept hoping that she would be ready earlier that day.
I had just stepped into her street when I saw Fatima standing in the middle of the road, waving at me. I breathed a sigh of relief and shouted, “Hurry up!” before running toward the school. She laughed loudly and ran after me. We raced all the way to school, and as usual, I won.
I waited by the school gate for a few seconds until she caught up. When she arrived, I said, “I won again, you lazy girl!” She got annoyed, as she always did, and went inside the school by herself. I followed her.
We entered the classroom and sat together. We studied several subjects, and then the final period began. Fatima asked, “What do we have in the last period today?”
“Dari,” I replied.
She nodded and put her Dari book on the desk.
A few minutes passed, but the teacher did not arrive. Everyone was getting bored. As the final period was coming to an end, Fatima suddenly stood up, sat on the teacher’s desk and loudly sang one of Dawood Sarkhosh’s songs:
“Let the unfaithfulness of time begin…
Let separation begin, wherever you are…
Let there be no nights without songs…
Let there be no unkindness of time…”
We were all absorbed in her singing when suddenly a terrifying blast shook the school. Several classroom windows shattered, and the sound of breaking glass and screams grew louder by the second.
Screams filled the entire school. I quickly stood up, grabbed Fatima’s hand and ran outside. My legs were shaking from fear, and I could not think about anything. I just kept running.
I looked at Fatima. She was as pale as I was and was simply running beside me. We had reached outside the school when another explosion sounded. I felt severe pain in my leg, but I ignored it and kept running.
Fatima’s hands were shaking violently. I thought it was because she was frightened.
But the shaking was not normal. I turned around to look at her face, and what I saw was impossible to believe. I realized that she had been killed.
I screamed and immediately let go of her hand. She collapsed to the ground. Tears filled my eyes and blurred my vision. I blinked repeatedly, but I could not believe what I was seeing.
When did this happen? How?
I felt terrible. My heart ached, my face was wet with tears, and I stood there in shock. My legs were trembling. I was terrified. Seeing my best friend in that condition broke my heart.
I stood there staring at Fatima when someone grabbed my hand and pulled me away, forcing me to leave the scene and helping me regain some awareness.
The area was filled with blood and dust. Several other students were lying on the ground. The street was filled with victims.
I gathered myself and started running again, but I could not get the image of Fatima out of my mind. That horrifying moment kept replaying before my eyes.
As I was running, another powerful explosion sounded and the blast threw me to one side. Then everything went completely dark, and I no longer knew what happened.
