I remember, many years ago (1992), how strange it felt when a young woman just disappeared. Her belongings were found and the police presumed that young woman was killed, but a body was never found. She was a couple of years older than me, and she lived in a city nearby Skövde. I remember how everyone was discussing the case and first hoped to find the girl alive. After a while though it was accepted that most probably she was killed. The body was never found neither could the police ever close the case.
23 years later, a week ago something happened. A young girl, 17 years old, from a city close by, disappeared. I didn´t know her, but she went at the same school where I went when I was 17, she was supposed to graduate where I graduated. The week she was supposed to graduate she disappeared. Unfortunately, she will never graduate. She was found dead. I couldn´t but to remember all the planning for the big day. Which dress for the party, which for the prom, whom to invite to the celebration at home and so on. She had it also probably, but will never experience that happiness.
Today, I was walking the street where the graduate parade usually takes place. You can feel the fear, shock and anger in the city. When I saw the fountain (ironically it is called” Livets brunn” The well of Life) I got the goose bump. I shivered, felt cold and I felt an overwhelming anger. She was just 17. When something like that happens in the world it is just news, but when it happens in the neighbourhood then it feels freaky horrifying…in every cell of the body.
Sjecam se prije mnogo godina (1992) kako se cudno osjecalo kad je jedna mlada djevojka nestala. Njezine stvari su bile pronadjene i tako je policija pretpostavila da ja ta mlada cura ubijena, ali tijelo nikad nije nadjeno. Bila je nekoliko Godina starija od mene, i zivjela je u gradu blizu Skövdea. Sjecam se kako su svi diskutovali taj slucaj i svi su se nadali da ce naci tu curu zivu, ali nakon nekog vremena nekako se prihvatilo da je najvjerovatnije ubijena. Tijelo nikad nije nadjeno a policija nikad nije mogla zavrsiti taj slucaj. 23 godine kasnije prije tacno sedmicu dana, curica 17g stara iz, komsinskog gradica, je nestala. Nisam je poznavala, ali je isla u istu skolu gdje sam ja isla kad mi je bilo 17. Trebala je da maturira u istoj skoli gdje sam ja maturirala. Matura joj je trebala biti te sedmice kad je nestala. Nazalost nije i nikad nece. Nadjena je mrtva. Ne mogu a da se ne sjetim sve planiranje koju haljinu za festu, koju za bal, koga zvati na slavlje kod kuce itd. Sva ona sreca sto ona nikad nece dozivjeti.
Danas kad sam setala do grada prolazila sam ulicom gdje inace maturanti paradiraju. Dosla sam do fontane, zove se “Livets brunn” Bunar zivota, ironicno. Najezila i sledila sam se kad sam vidjela cvijece i svijece postavljene. Preplavila me i ljutnja. Pa bilo joj je samo 17 godina. Kad se ovako nesto desi u svijetu to budu samo vijesti, ali kad se u komsiluku desi onda se u svakoj celiji tijela osjeca… uzas i strava.