I am Mohaddeseh Nazari (Bita).

I am #Mohaddeseh_Nazari (Bita).

I was killed on December 1, 2020. I was only 15 years old, born on May 4, 2005. I was the only child of Ali Asghar. My parents had children after 9 years and when I was born, I became their life and soul. I was from Karaj in Alborz Province and a first-year high school student. My father was an employee of a company and originally from Lor Bakhtiari. I was a kind girl. When I was a child, my mother recorded me praying for our country, for all our animals, even for my dolls! Basically, I was a happy, lively, brave, and fearless girl. My parents were always worried about my audacity and courage…

In high school, my major was experimental. Since childhood, I had always dreamed of becoming a doctor, but I never said what I would do for myself or what I would buy when I became a doctor. I deeply wanted to build a house for working children and help them. In my second grade book, I wrote: I would like to become a doctor and treat my patients one free day a week. I took guitar lessons and loved to sing.

Nationwide protests over the sudden increase in gasoline prices began in late November 2019. When the protests took place in our area and the municipality, city council, and local Basij base were involved in the process, I was filming from the rooftop and behind the windows of the street where the protests were taking place when I was identified. They asked us to delete the photos and videos, but we refused, then they told us we had to go to the local police station. At the police station, they took me to another room and interrogated me. My parents never understood exactly what questions they asked me there.

After this incident, I deleted all my Instagram content and my parents thought the matter was over, but since then I have been threatened many times, but we didn't know who the threat was.

I told my parents that a man was threatening me. They even came to school with me, but there was no sign of that man.

Once, when I was coming back from school, they came and threatened me again, gave me pills and told me to mix them in fruit juice and drink them with my parents. I was very scared, I went home and explained the incident of the threat. My father quickly took the pills to the pharmacy and showed them to his friend, who said that these pills were very dangerous and deadly. My father and I went to the police station and explained the incident. My father said that if the threat to my child is not your business, then find the perpetrators, these threats have ruined our lives. But they paid no attention and took me to another room again and interrogated me.

The threats intensified, they came to me on my way to school again and threatened to kill my family. I couldn't sleep at night out of fear, and my parents took turns staying awake over me so I could sleep.

After a while, my parents thought it was over and they had nothing to do with me, but I was still being threatened.

I couldn't even stay home alone. Very dangerous conditions had arisen for us, and that's why we decided to emigrate from Karaj. When our relatives and friends asked why, we didn't tell the truth.

One day, the agent who interrogated me texted me and asked if I had moved from my previous place of residence. I said that my father told me not to say anything because they were after me. The agent said that your father lied to you, and that we are taking care of you so that nothing happens to you!

Despite all this, it wasn't until a few weeks later that the threats started again. This time they came and gave me medicine, my parents didn't understand how the medicine had been given to me. They quickly took me to the hospital, but there I was ignored. Instead of treating me, the doctor just sat there writing to himself. Of course, about three months ago, after getting my medical records, my parents realized that the doctor had been making a case for me! Two nurses were also above me, but they didn't do anything to me and left. When my father protested why they weren't treating me, the doctor finally came and gave me an injection. I fell asleep immediately, and my parents thought I was asleep because of the medicine. Then they came and told them to take me to another hospital. When they transferred me to the second hospital, the doctor said that they killed your daughter and sent her here. I had gone into a coma...

I was in a coma for two days, but they wouldn't let my parents visit me. A uniformed man kept coming to them and saying, "Don't worry, we'll take care of him!" But they didn't know the man at all. When you asked him who he was, he said, "We are a group that helps the sick for the sake of Allah!" My parents doubted what he said.

In the end, I didn't come out of the coma and died...

After my death, the officers did not hand over my body to my family for two days. My father received my lifeless body in the morgue, with my chest split open and my body wrapped in a nylon. The officers did not let my father see what had happened to me.

My mother wasn't there for my autopsy for nine months, they didn't know if they were going to remove my internal organs or not...

My lifeless body was unjustly buried in the Sakineh Behesht Cemetery in Karaj…

My family was not allowed to hold the third and seventh ceremonies. When they were holding the fortieth ceremony, a private came and said that they did not have the right to hold the ceremony and that they had to close it quickly. With the help of a few people and the promise that they would finish in half an hour, the ceremony was quickly closed without any fuss.

After I was killed, my grieving father received severe threats and the news of my murder was kept quiet... Everyone thought I died from contracting the coronavirus or from the wrong injection.

After more than four years, my parents got my medical records from the hospital, and it was written in the file that I had a mental health problem and committed suicide! This was a lie, I had even texted my friend that I was being threatened.

My fellow countrymen, the agents of the criminal regime continued their threats in our new house after we had escaped from them for two months, and finally killed me, but for what crime? I was full of enthusiasm and passion for life, I always said: "Be kind"! I wanted to be free and sing and live. I loved singing. My mother kept telling me to retire and leave Iran, but I said no, I only live in Iran and go abroad for fun, never live in another country! Oh, I loved my homeland.

Now my guitar is gone and it has become a pain for my grieving parents... Don't let my blood be trampled, I paid my debt in the cause of freedom, you too fight the oppressive regime, victory is not far away, remember me on the day of our homeland's liberation, celebrate and be happy...💔

#Against_Oblivion