Fallen Hero Sajedeh Karimi Pirmousaei; Rain on the Grave of Seventeen Years
Death Sajedeh Karimi Pirmousaei 17 years old in Iran Astaneh-ye Ashrafiyeh
Written by: Mikhak Sepid
Don't pull your hand from mine, Mom.Is it still as cold?Is it still shaking that much? If you ask me, I'd say everything stopped on Thursday, January 9, 2025.At the same time, 6:30 PM, around Haft Square in Astaneh-ye Ashrafieh.Gilan's fine rain was falling, and the air tasted of anxiety.The city was lost in the clamor of shouts, smoke, and the pungent smell of tear gas, and I, Sajedeh, a girl who had just turned seventeen a few days prior, was holding your hand tightly.I, an eleventh-grader, a computer science student whose entire world until that night had been confined to unfinished code, the small school monitors, and my girlish dreams.But that night, everything changed in a hundredth of a second.The deafening sound of a shot, a sudden, deep burning in my side, and my legs growing heavy on the wet asphalt of the street.Do you remember how the world spun around my head?Do you remember how all my strength was concentrated in my fingers that didn't want to let go of yours? We didn't go to the hospital, Mom.In your rain-soaked, frightened eyes, I read how scared you were; you were afraid they would separate me from you, afraid that instead of your embrace, I would end up in the off…
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