Ann (22-08-1997) passed away on February 27, 2014.

Two girls on a scooter. Nobody survived. I have a terrible feeling. I knew that Ann would be rehearsing that evening with her friend. They were going on scooters and I think the route that was mentioned in the article. I called my mom. “Is it home yet?” My mother said that she was not at home, although she was expecting her.

I told her about the news report. Screamed. Without hesitating for a second, I got into the car with Raymond to have a look. In the place where the accident occurred, I found chaos. Flashing police cars. ambulances. Fences. Client. I saw a motorcycle on the road.

The girls have already been taken to the hospital. I told a policeman that I am Anne’s sister, if Anne is here. The agent turned pale. He said I should go home. In complete shock, we went back to my mother’s house. My father was in Germany at the time, celebrating Carnival. Not long after, the police appear on the doorstep, two young men. They confirmed what we feared: Anne had passed away.

My mother collapsed. I think I kicked the couch. Everyone was crying out loud. I thought my life was over. Ann and I were best friends. Of course that wasn’t always the case, as it almost always is with sisters, but we got along really well. How can I continue to live now? A dark cloud will hang over our heads forever. Who will testify when I get married? Our children’s aunt?

I passed through a deep valley for five years. I began to hyperventilate, and I constantly saw the policeman’s pale face. That evening we had dinner together. I’ve fiddled with it in my head dozens of times. How normal that day seemed. How natural was it for her to play sports. And how our lives will never go back to normal again after that.