There’s one girl I can’t stop thinking about, one girl I can’t get out of my mind.
Her name is Mia Ayliffe-Chung.
A 21-year-old doing all the things us 20-somethings do. Travelling around the world, meeting friends from completely different continents, dancing until daylight and making memories to get us through those long work days.
Mia was acting like any other British backpacker when her life was snatched by someone who had a ‘romantic’ obsession with her. A man who apparently told people he and Mia were married; who felt justified to have a claim over her.; who stabbed her repeatedly until her bright light was extinguished.
I've seen his face and the picture, that same picture of him I know you've seen too. Sunglasses on, shirt off, with a small and subtle smirk across his face.
I've read the headlines. About how he screamed "Allahu akbar" both during the attack and his arrest. About his Facebook statuses that seemed suspicious. About his murder charge and how on Friday he was beamed up into the court via videolink because it's alleged he was too violent to bring to court.
I'm angry that I know this much about him. Which is why I've made a decision.
I will not type out his name with my furious fingers. I will not remember him. I will not remember his name.