Marjan asadi

It was a cold, rainy night in late autumn. It was past eleven o'clock, and the deserted streets on the outskirts of town took on an eerie atmosphere beneath the dim glow of the streetlights. The wind howled through unfinished buildings, and a heavy silence hung over the dark alleys—a silence that could be shattered at any moment by the unexpected. Marjan, a tall, twenty-four-year-old woman with a dusky complexion, clutched her worn backpack tightly as she made her way cautiously through the desolate streets. She was homeless, and that night—like so many others—she was searching for a safe place to spend the night. Yet, a strange feeling told her that someone was watching her from the shadows and that this night would be unlike any other.

Marjan grew up in an affluent, influential Muslim family—a family that valued adherence to tradition and the preservation of reputation above all else. She had learned from childhood to live according to the expectations of others, but as she grew older, her personal beliefs and choices led her down a different path.She refused to yield to the decisions made regarding her future and, by breaking a major family taboo, incurred the wrath of those around her. What began with threats and pressure soon took a more serious turn. Marjan felt that staying would put her safety—and even her life—at risk. Consequently, she fled her home one night without warning, leaving without the chance to gather her belongings or say goodbye. From that night on, she concealed her true identity, severed ties with her past, and embraced the hardships of homelessness, believing that however ruthless the streets might be, they were still safer than the danger she had left behind.