Hossein Rahsepar was a fourth-grade student.
He and his sister both studied at the same school. His sister says that on the day of the crime, when they realized at school that war had begun, she went toward the boys’ section to get her brother. But the door was locked.
Then the missile struck, and her brother was martyred.
Addressing the Americans, she says: “May God never forgive you.”
Videos of Hossein’s martial arts training have remained on social media as memories of him.
His mother says:
“Every year, we used to go together to visit Imam Reza’s shrine. Last year, when we went, I saw that he had caught one of the shrine’s pigeons. I told him, ‘Hossein, let it go.’ He said, ‘All right.’ Then he said, ‘But I wish I too were a pigeon of the shrine.’”
Hossein’s story remains with that wish: a child who trained, played, studied, and dreamed in the language of innocence. He once wished to be like a pigeon in the shrine of Imam Reza. Now, from the ruins of a school, his name has flown into memory.