*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2009595-Little-Red
Rated: E · Fiction · Community · #2009595
The story of 9/11 told through the eyes of an innocent doll named Little Red.
Little Red

It was another sunny day up high in our building. I sat by the window next to my friend, Susie May. We looked through the glass at the big city before our eyes. Though we could not move on our own, we were never bored. The city was alive with people, cars, buses, and taxis. Honking horns, yelling people, and the occasional siren filled my ears. A steady breeze blew across the city, swishing leaves around in the trees and stealing the hats of fine gentlemen strolling down the sidewalks. Giant signs with lit up advertisements hung on buildings. It was another sunny day up high in our building, but no one realized it would be our last.
After a few moments went by, I heard the creak of the door as it opened, followed by swift and light footsteps. Though I could not turn around to look, I naturally assumed it was Sarah. She was the best person I knew. With her gentle and caring fingers, she created me and gave me life. She topped me off with wild red hair and dressed me in a beautiful red plaid dress. I couldn’t have picked out anything better if I’d tried.
As the footsteps neared our window, a small voice filled the room. My previous assumption was correct. It was Sarah. She was talking to us, just like she did every morning. I felt so special whenever she did that. My biggest wish was that I could just find the voice to respond to hers.
“We made it past another Monday, guys! It’s Tuesday!” She said, half to herself and half to whoever was listening. “Let’s get some serious progress done today,” she mumbled to herself as I heard her mess with some papers on her desk.
Suddenly the footsteps became very close, and I felt Sarah’s soft, lotioned hands wrap themselves around me. “Good morning, Little Red,” she greeted, as my view shifted from the window to the bright room we all shared. She reached to my friend. “And good morning to you, Susie May. I trust you two had a nice night.” Sarah walked around the room, straightening things up and getting ready for the day’s work.
She sat down at her desk and wrote something down. After a moment, she looked up to the red and white flip calendar hanging on the wall in front of her. “Whoops, I’d better change that,” she smiled, walking over to it. She ripped off the paper that read, “Monday, September 10, 2001” and threw it in the trash, revealing a new sheet that read, “Tuesday, September 11, 2001”. “That’s better,” she stated as she proceeded to her desk once more.
I watched intently as Sarah, dressed in khakis, a white blouse, and a pretty blue scarf, worked at her desk. Her medium length red hair fell past her shoulders. Looking through papers, writing down notes, typing on her laptop, and answering phone calls kept her occupied. They kept me occupied, as well, as I contentedly sat on the ledge, observing.
I glanced up at the round clock hanging on the wall. It read 8:46 AM. The sun was shining into the room, giving it a fresh, cheerful feel.
Suddenly I heard a noise unlike anything I’d ever heard before. It started as a small buzz then grew quickly until it was deafening, growing louder and louder until it blared inside my head, blocking out any and all thoughts.
All at once the whole building was hit with a huge impact. The sound was indescribable. An explosion, greater than I’d ever felt, shook the entire room. It sounded like a million cars had crashed all at once. I fell off the window ledge, tumbling to a stop on my stomach. All I could see was the floor.
Sarah’s scream was muffled by the breaking of windows and cement. The building shook vigorously, as if we were in an earthquake. For all I knew, we were.
Filing cabinets screeched as they slid across the floor. Sarah’s bookshelf sitting in the corner fell forward, spilling its contents. Screams came from every direction. I was growing very warm, and the smell of smoke filled my nose. It was uncomfortable, but I could do nothing about it.
I lay there, completely unaware of the tragedy unfolding around me. Suddenly the floor made a terrible cracking noise, and it tilted severely. I tumbled once again, rolling closer to the broken windows. I was face up, and what I saw before me was more than I could take. A few minutes ago I was sitting in our cheerful little home, watching Sarah answer phone calls and write on sticky notes. Now I saw nothing but thick fog and smoke disguising broken tables, scrambled supplies, and misplaced chairs.
Sirens quickly came into the picture, blaring their high-pitched alarms. The scene before me never stopped moving. I knew this building could not stand much longer. Fire was quickly spreading, and giant chunks of flooring were coming through the ceiling. The building threatened to collapse at any moment. My heart was racing.
The loud booming of breaking cement erupted from all sides, and our room jolted sideways once more. This was much more severe. Completely helpless, I rolled and tumbled on the floor towards the broken picture windows. Sarah’s desk emptied its entire contents all over the room. I watched as the familiar clock that once hung nicely on the wall crashed to the floor. An office chair rolled straight at my body, hit me hard, and sent me rolling helplessly out the window.
I flew through the air. Being as light as I was, I fluttered around like a piece of paper. Smoke surrounded me, and fingers of flames reached out to grab me. Falling debris missed me by inches as it plummeted twice as fast to the ground. Wind blew through my red hair as I accelerated more and more every second.
Then I landed. I landed on a hot, smoky, black pile of rubbish. I lay face-up, watching everything tumble to the ground around me. My legs and arms were pinned to the ground, but my face was still untouched. I stayed there for what seemed like hours, waiting for some act of fate to occur. Then it happened again.
A faint buzz could be heard in the distance. I watched a figure appear high in the sky. It kind of looked like a plane. Within seconds the noise grew and grew until it was a deafening drone coming straight towards this location. Though it didn’t seem possible, the sound grew louder and louder until it ended in a giant crash. The plane smashed right into the side of the building. Smoke and debris immediately flew everywhere. Bright orange flames erupted in a giant cloud. The building tilted to one side as if it had lost its balance. Windows shattered, people cried out, and huge chunks of the building descended to the ground.
Surely this tragedy couldn’t have been on purpose. It sort of looked like it, though. How could a person be so mean? I thought everyone was nice, just like Sarah. I thought everyone always had a smile and a gentle touch, just like Sarah. I thought everyone tried to work out their problems out by compromising, rather than fighting, just like Sarah. I guess not. This was an unreasonable and terrible act of brutality. Maybe Sarah was the only nice person there was.
I lay there, pondering my thoughts, trying to make sense of things. I was still surrounded by sirens, shrieking people, and crying families, but I could not do anything. It was all a blur around me. Hours passed. I still stayed put. I could not believe that this much chaos came from the intentional actions of another human being.
Firemen and rescue teams ran through the debris and into the crowd, seeking people that needed saving. Citizens were quickly hustled away from the danger, leaning on shoulders or carried by strong men. People not wearing badges or protective suits didn’t hesitate one moment to assist a person in need. Instead of crumbling out of fear, these people took action, becoming stronger rather than weaker. I didn’t get it. I thought that an event like this would totally destroy the city. Instead it was doing the exact opposite.
Just as the thought entered my head, I felt the someone lift up the board that covered my legs. I was no longer pinned down. The relief was great. I saw a face. It was a man. His face was tan, covered in black streaks from all the smoke. He paused and stared down at me. Then he reached down and wrapped his strong hands around my dirty plaid dress. I was lifted from the black debris.
“What did you find, Brian?” a man’s voice called from several feet away.
“Uhh,” he responded, “It’s a doll. She’s hardly got a scratch.”
“That’s interesting,” the man said as he walked over. “Not the type of thing you’d expect to see out here.”
“That’s for sure,” Brian mused. He stuck me into the velcro pocket on his jacket. It was small and smelly, but I felt safe. It sure was cool to see that there were other people besides Sarah who really cared. Hours went by, and all I heard were muffled and unidentifiable sounds.

10 years later I’m sitting here on another shelf. However, it’s not my normal shelf next to Susie May. I’m here on a shelf behind a wall of glass. People come by all the time to look at me. They come to remember that day. The day that I saw the cruelty and heartlessness of people in this world. I saw buildings destroyed and people killed. I saw the heart of a city demolished in minutes. But even more than that I saw strength. I saw courage and bravery. I saw people give up their lives for one another. I saw love. I saw a nation stand together in time of need, and I’m so proud to be a part of it. That was the biggest day of my life, and I’ll never forget it.
© Copyright 2014 JeanieBean (dizzyfingers00 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2009595-Little-Red