Excerpts from  a letter by Behnoud Shojaee to the victim’s mother 
translated by Nazy Kaviani 
 

“When I was a very young child, I lost my young mother to illness.  I will never forget the day my mother passed away.  I can still hear her last breaths in my ear.  I remember starting that day and for all the years to come, I would wonder to myself why God would leave me so alone in this world.  I grew up longing for my mother’s warm embrace.
I am sure you can understand what I’m trying to say, because you embraced your son, Omid, thousands of times.  Omid never had to search for the warmth of his mother’s kindness in his dreams.

I had to pass many hard days before I turned 17.  How I wish I could erase number 17 from the years I have lived.  I was preparing for the university admission exam, to realize my mother’s dream, when that horrible accident happened.  I never believed I would have someone’s blood on my hands, I never believed I could cause Omid’s death.  You know very well that neither Omid nor I were the instigators of that fight, and that what happened was just an accident.  I am not a professional murderer, committing a premeditated and planned murder; Omid’s death in my hands was just a horrible accident.” 

“I spent many nights in jail, dreaming of my mother the minute my eyes closed.  I dreamt of my mother standing next to Omid, crying.  I know you have cried many tears for the loss of your child, and even passage of time cannot heal the wounds I have so unfortunately caused on your soul.  But I beg you to forgive my punishment.  I ask you this not as the person who was the cause of your son’s death, but as a young man, same age as your lost son, Omid.  Allow me to call you mother, after all the years I have been unable to use that word, addressing anyone.  Allow me to kiss your sad and cold hands which have been busy wiping the tears of longing for your child, and beg you to bestow that motherly kindness on me.”