A close friend of a victim of the Hamas massacre at the Nova music festival on October 7, 2023, died by suicide next to her grave on Saturday, further highlighting the ongoing struggles of survivors and friends and families of the onslaught’s victims.
Bar Bechor Asraf, 30, from the Shaarei Tikva settlement, had been a close childhood friend of Liron Barda, 26, who worked as the bartending manager at the rave and refused to leave the site after the terrorists invaded, instead staying behind to care for the wounded.
“They were inseparable. Twin souls,” the family tells the Ynet news site.
On Wednesday last week, Asraf danced and celebrated at his brother Maor’s wedding. His family said there were no signs then of what would follow just three days later.
A day later, his sister Lihi tells Ynet, “He told me how proud he was of me… I didn’t understand why he was saying all that to me.”
On Saturday afternoon, during a family celebration of their brother’s wedding, Lihi says, “Bar asked to go to the pool. We told him we don’t have a subscription, and he said ‘okay.'”
She adds, “When we couldn’t find him, we started to search on foot. We thought, ‘Where could he be?’ and we said we would go to Liron’s grave.”
She continues, “At first I didn’t see him. And then I saw him lying there. I shouted, ‘Bar, get up!’ but only then did I realize what had happened. At first I thought someone had killed him. I didn’t understand what I was seeing.”
Lihi says Barda’s death had severely affected Bar.
“At first he didn’t sleep for a week, didn’t speak, didn’t eat and didn’t laugh. Later he started to slowly become rehabilitated. He went back to laughing, talking to people, and spreading Liron’s love. He would organize meals for soldiers in her memory. He was a person who always helped others,” she says.
Bar’s mother Bracha says: “Liron had been everything to him. She was his best friend and his therapist. It was important to him to tell her about anything he did. After she was murdered, he would go almost every day to the cemetery.”
While he seemed to heal and was outwardly cheerful most of the time, Bracha says his pain had not abated more than two and a half years after the massacre.
“Two months ago he sat in the living room and cried. I asked him, ‘What happened?’ and he told me: ‘Mom, it’s hard for me without Liron. Nobody can replace her. I miss her.’ He hugged me and cried loudly, in a way I won’t forget.”
She tells Walla, “He died in the place he most wanted to be.”