Man fatally struck in road accident: “My boyfriend’s body hit the ground with devastating force, exploding on impact.”
I watched in horror as Néstor flew into the air. The vehicle continued forward, dragging the motorcycle and scattering parts across the road while Néstor spun above. I felt frozen, unable to do anything but watch.
- 8 months ago
March 15, 2024
Néstor (left) and his girlfriend Irina share a moment together before the tragic accident that took his life. | Photo courtesy Irina Juárez
BUENOS AIRES, Argentina — In a single moment, a beautiful afternoon with my partner turned into a nightmare when a car struck him at full speed, right beside me. In that instant, his body was destroyed, along with our life and all the projects and dreams we shared.
Now, at 26 years old, I struggle to figure out how to move forward without him. Meanwhile, the person who killed him remains free and driving. However, I trust justice will prevail.
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From childhood friends to partners
I first met Néstor through my brother when I was nine years old. Because of their friendship, Néstor remained off-limits to me. I never thought of crossing that boundary. Then, two years ago, after ending a long-term relationship, I reconnected with Néstor when we began working together. Our connection felt inevitable, and we fell deeply in love.
We began planning our future together, and recently moved in together. On Friday, February 2, 2024, Néstor and I traveled to a lagoon, where we loved to spend our afternoons. While Néstor swam in the water, I basked in the sun, and we shared some maté [a traditional Argentinian hot drink]. We talked and laughed, then headed home before dusk.
Our journey took an unexpected turn when we ran out of gas on a dirt road just before the paved section. True to our nature, we found humor in the situation. We had grown accustomed to living with just what we needed, sometimes even less, and walking beside our motorcycle was not a new experience.
We called a friend to bring us some fuel and decided to continue walking to pass the time. In a playful mood, I teased that I would go with his friend and leave Néstor behind. He chased after me, pretending to be angry, until he caught up with me, and we shared a passionate kiss. The lack of gasoline never dampened our spirits. “What can you do? What matters is that we’re always together,” we reassured each other.
Car tragically strikes man on roadside
Few cars traveled along our route. We saw a few people walking or jogging. At one point, Néstor and I hugged as he kissed me and playfully said, “Hey, silly, run to the other side, see if they collide with you.” I moved to the right side of the motorcycle, further from the road, while Néstor stayed on the left. In the distance, I noticed a vehicle approaching. It seemed slow at first, but within seconds, it was nearly upon us. With the remaining sunlight and the lights shining from our motorcycle, we were clearly visible.
As the car passed me, it felt like the buzz of a wasp. The speed of the wind shook my arm, and I watched in horror as Néstor flew into the air. The vehicle continued forward, dragging the motorcycle and scattering parts across the road while Néstor spun above. I felt frozen, unable to do anything but watch. I barely managed to form a silent plea addressed to God or anyone listening: “Tell me this isn’t happening.”
The events unfolded rapidly, yet in my mind, they replay in agonizing slow motion. My boyfriend’s body hit the ground with devastating force, exploding on impact. The noise was horrendous, like a bomb detonating. His back struck first, then his head. Within seconds, I witnessed Néstor’s last breath. Then, blood spewed everywhere. His body lay about 50 meters away, and when I ran toward him, the distance felt endless. I longed to reach him, to hold him close, but it seemed impossible as I screamed for help, overwhelmed by desperation.
Many tried to offer comfort, but I felt a profound emptiness, having lost the most important person in my life
An elderly couple witnessed the accident and stopped. Quickly, they stepped out of the car and held me back, urging me not to touch Néstor as they tried to calm me. They checked his pulse and knew he was gone. The motorcycle remained wedged beneath the car that hit Néstor, and it veered out of control until it crashed into a fence.
I watched the driver come out of the vehicle, clutching his head. When he reached us, he repeated twice, “I thought it was a dog.” A fury I never knew I could feel erupted, and I began hurling insults at him. His words only deepened my anger. He had seen a living being and did not stop. Even if it had been a dog, he should have swerved. The driver’s companions stood by, speechless and visibly shocked, realizing he had taken a life.
As people gathered around us, many tried to offer comfort, but I felt a profound emptiness, having lost the most important person to me. As evening approached, the friend bringing us gasoline arrived, shocked by the news. He quickly left to inform the family. I felt utterly isolated, clinging to a faint hope that Néstor might still be alive. I stared at his motionless body on the ground, his eyes closed, trying to convince myself that we would somehow overcome this. But when his eyes were opened, the dull look made me realize he was gone.
They took me to the police station to give my statement. Locals warned me that the driver who killed Néstor had a relative in the police force, and they had previously covered up his traffic violations. He was known for driving recklessly, just as he had on that tragic afternoon.
Officer took my statement but attempted to twist my words, locals warned me of corruption
A female officer took my statement but attempted to twist my words, suggesting the car accident occurred at night when, in reality, the sun was still shining. I resisted her alterations two or three times until they assigned a different officer to record my testimony. It felt like they were trying to exploit my vulnerability.
My family, who arrived at the scene, urged me not to testify, fearing the shock might cloud my judgment. Yet, I felt fully coherent. I faced many challenges throughout my life and I learned to navigate them. I understand some people will always try to oppress you, but I learned to stand my ground. As a person, I always strive to do the right thing and pick myself up after each fall. Yet, I never anticipated a blow like this; a sudden, brutal impact I still struggle to comprehend.
Every day since has been a struggle. I shared my life with Néstor, spending almost every hour with him. His sudden absence left a void. Returning to our room to collect my belongings felt heart-wrenching. Everywhere I looked, I saw remnants of our life together: our bed, our cat. Tears blurred my vision as I gathered what I could and left.
In our small town, where everyone knows everyone, the thought of encountering people who might ask about Néstor felt like too much to bear in the first two weeks. I sought refuge at a relative’s house to escape the unbearable questions.
My boyfriend’s killer is still free and driving
Today, I attempt to confront this reality head-on. I struggle to accept condolences; people’s well-intentioned words only deepen my sadness, but I understand they want to be there for me. I need to find a way to move forward.
The knowledge that Néstor’s killer remains free and driving fills me with outrage. Néstor was only 24 years old, with the potential to build a family, a career, and a home. Someone’s reckless decision to speed cut his life short.
Despite my anger, the thought of taking justice into my own hands never crossed my mind, not even when I faced the man who did this. However, I refuse to stoop to his level. I trust that justice will prevail. Often, I feel Néstor’s presence with me. I look up at the sky and tell him I love him. To me, the brightest star is him. This journey feels endless and challenging, but I have no choice but to be strong.
