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There is never peace here ...

There is never peace here. I'm always on guard. I drive on Harmica-Dugo Selo route. Train number 6112. I leave Sesvete and accelerate. I see two silhouettes in the distance. My eyes are not fooled as many times before.

Two girls walk between two tracks. One blonde, the other’s hair is blue like the sky. They stagger. I understand that another train, a Hungarian, is coming from Dugo Selo. The girls will be between us, I know that. I quickly brake and board the low-floor train. I'm passing them. Stop. The girls stay at the middle of the train. The Hungarian train is already here. The force of the passing air of another train throws them at my "low floor" which luckily stands. It feels creepy. I don't know if I'm more angry about their irresponsible behavior or happy about the tragedy avoided. Adrenaline in the body has long been present. And the feeling that it will happen again. And it did. Unfortunately.

After only 5 days, the blue-haired girl committed suicide in an identical manner. She waited for the train, ending her life under his axles. And she made the other driver's life terrible, and to me the route of Sesvete - Dugo Selo.


Author: Lorena Gregurić Matejaš

Photo: lauren-richmond-unsplash

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