Fallen Hero Maryam Saadat; child of Maryam Saadat
Death Maryam Saadat 24 years old in Iran Tehran
Written by: Mikhak Sepid
It is absolute darkness, and a chill that slowly settles deep into my bones. Here, time is no longer linear. Hours, days, and distance have lost all meaning. Only a few frames remain, looping endlessly in my mind: disjointed fragments of the last night of my life. I am Maryam, twenty-four years old, and every time I remember that night, before the sound of gunfire, before the blood, before collapsing onto the asphalt, I hear my baby crying. It all began when the baby formula ran out. It was past nine at night. The January chill clung to the windowpanes, and the streets of Tehran were restless. Outside, noises drifted in that urged one to stay indoors—shouts, car horns, a rising commotion, and occasionally a distant boom that left you unsure whether it was an explosion or a gunshot. But my four-and-a-half-month-old was hungry. She wasn't even crying anymore; she was whimpering. She pushed away the empty bottle, dragged her tiny tongue across her parched palate, and opened and closed her little fists in the air. My life was measured by these very sounds: by her sleeping hours, her waking moments, her midnight cries, the smell of milk on her clothes, and those toothless smiles she had…
مریم سعادت · نراتا · تهران · نوزاد
