I am thinking about the first ever promise we made.

The first promise that H King made was:
"We will avenge your parents when we grow up."

Now the time to fulfill that promise has come, and Laura and Julie left her alone.

Sure, they said they would help her after Lara's marriage, but they never realized that for the time she would not be here.

I am sitting in a small café, playing chess alone.

I am both white and black.

After looking at my board I stand up and walk out.

Only if I could play with Sana.

The way she smiles mischievously — even when she knows that killing my queen won't help.

I huff and look down.

My eyes start to fill with unshed tears as I think of my besties.

Now that they are no longer together it hurts me.

Not even once has Julie called, and not once has Sana laughed with me.

I don't feel clumsy at all, but I want to.

I want to slip and fall.

So my friends can help me up and laugh at me.

I want to laugh with them even if I will laugh at my own clumsiness.

BANG! BEEP.

I look up and the scene in front of me is horrible.

An old man is lying on the ground, bleeding from his head very badly.

His SUV is ruined and the one who did it ran away.

The whole street is silent — not even one car or cycle today.

People should have heard that sound but everyone is still inside.

There is only one person outside, and that is me.

I pick up my peace — no, my phone — and run to him.

His eyes are partly open and he is trying to breathe.

I call an ambulance but there is no signal.

I check his pulse and try to stop the bleeding by wrapping his head carefully with the extra hijab I have with me.

When I see that it is not working I press my fingers and try to hold his bleeding.

A wave of panic hits me hard.

“THERE IS NO SIGNAL!” I shout, frustrated.

The old man looks at me and says, “You should go home.”

I stare down at him in disbelief.

“NO!” I scream.

He tries to smile and says, “Then… just click… the side button of… my phone,” he says between breaths.

I look around carefully and find his phone.

It is in no condition to use, but nonetheless I press the button after examining it.

I look around but nothing happens.

I am trying not to give up.

I can't — I am not the victim.

“Sir, sir! Just don't give up yet. Think about the things you want to do. Think about the memories of your family and friends. You can't give up! I am here. I won't let anything happen to you,” I plead.

He starts to close his eyes and his uneven breathing begins to fade.

The pain that started in my heart spreads to my arms and hands.

I start crying and press my head against his chest.

“No! No!” that’s all I say.

Suddenly, three or four SUVs arrive and stop.

Some men rush out, pushing me aside as they pick him up.

I don’t even notice the ambulance they bring with them.

I hurry to my feet and walk to the nurse who is speaking with a man.

“His blood pressure was 59/81 and the main injury is on his hind brain. He has lost a lot of blood. You will need to inject at least two bottles for now to stabilize the patient,” I say to him, ignoring the man who was already giving instructions.

“You have to come with us. Fast!” the nurse says, pulling me inside the ambulance van.

I don’t utter a single word.

I just follow, hoping he will be fine now. God will save him.

They take him inside and leave me outside after listening to what I said earlier.

Almost my whole body is covered in blood, and I don’t think I should sit here on these benches.

I don’t realize the man from earlier has been watching me through all of this.

When I finally look at him, his whole demeanor changes. Anger takes over his face.

He comes toward me like a predator, and I take two steps back.

I stop when my back hits the wall and I lift my arms in front of me in a protective manner.

He stops right in front of me, only one foot away, and says:

“Look at me.”

Surprisingly, I do.

“Now tell me everything from the start. Or else I will kill you,” he orders, pulling out his gun.

My eyes widen and my whole body starts to shake.

“I was… I was just trying to help him… because I was the o-only one t-there,” I manage, stuttering through the words.

He looks at me and then presses the gun to the side of my head, hard enough that it hurts.

“ONLY TRUTH!” he shouts.

That’s all my trembling heart can take — tears start streaming down my face.

I glare at him through my tears and say, with trembling lips:

“I don’t care what you say. I told the truth. And if you hurt me… you will hurt someone who is innocent in this case.”

His eyes widen at my response, and he looks at me with surprise.

But before he can reply, I feel my legs give out. Darkness consumes me.

The last thing I feel are two soft yet rough hands wiping my tears, and a voice calling for the nurse.