How I died on 9/11

~~~Mabel Greyson.

“Ten Years. I can’t believe it’s been ten years.” Mabel sighs as I begin my interview. I had to write a story for school. Something about 9/11, and I wanted it to be as real as possible. Mabel let out a small chuckle as I take out my clipboard, “I’ve told this story so many times, and every time I don’t know how to start.”

“Well start simply. How old were you? Where were you? What were you doing?” I smile gently. What she had said was true. I’ve herad her tell this story many times over the years I had known her, but it never seems to get any easier. She takes a long breath collecting her thoughts and slowly begins to speak.

“I was six that year, just starting first grade. We had school that day. It was quiet. Quieter than usual. We were told we were leaving school early. I didn’t question it. Sometimes it happened.

“My small class was herded to the library to await our parents. The TV was one, playing old episodes of SpongeBob. You know, the one where Sandy gets homesick. I sat in the back flipping through books watching as one after another my classmates were called out the door. I didn’t mind much. Daddy was always late.

“I was half asleep when I was finally called to go home. I gathered my stuff quickly, knowing that Daddy would have to get back to work. A teacher escorted me outside. I was confused. My father didn’t come to pick me up. Instead there stood my half-brother, whom I had rarely seen since he had gotten his license.

“I hurry, sure that he would not want to be kept waiting. He opens my door, and takes my bag as I climb into the backseat, carefully setting it down at my feet. He shuts, the door and take his own seat behind the wheel.

“‘This isn’t the way home.’ I say, noticing that he had taken the wrong turn. I look up at him through the rear view mirror. His eyes were blood shot as if he’d been crying, or had gotten high, but as he speaks I notice that his voice sounds stuffy.

“‘We’re not going up. We’re going to that diner Dad used to take us to when we were little. Remember that? I owe a float anyway.’” The way he said it, added that last sentence, it was as if it were an excuse, as if he were guilty of something. I smile regardless. I smile brighter than I should have.

“We stop a few blocks down, and I take Marquelo’s hand as we walk the rest of the way. I still remember what it looked like. The place I’ve spent so many childhood weekends. The Old vintage seats, the red door mat at the door, the bar lined with red stools, and the checkered floor. I walk to the bar counter, careful to step only on the red tiles, then climb up onto my seat. I shift and swivel, kicking my feet as I await my float. The waitress arrives, placing down a mug of sweet soda and ice cream, and a plate of fresh fries. I notice her eyes, like my brother’s, were red and puffy, her make up staing her cheeks.

“‘I didn’t order these.’ I whisper to Marquelo, but he placed the plate in front of me and ruffles my hair with a weak smile.

“‘I ordered for you. You always have fries with your float.’ He sounded nostalgic, his voice choked. I was full, but glad he remembered.

“The room went silent. The TV voice droned. I glanced up. There was a building all smoke and fire. The speaker went on. My brother tried to divert my attention. The ground was covered in debris. Someone calls my name. Bodies were being pulled from the rubble. A weak attempt at a joke. There’s a face. Words I can no longer make out. A voice I faintly remember. The face. All bloodied and charred. That face.

“I knew that face. I lost what little grip I had on reality. I ran out the door not knowing, no caring, where I was going. I collapsed in the middle of the street, the world gone from me. Locked inside my own world.

“I was dragged away. Strong arms holding me a soft voice hushing me, rocking me back and forth like my mother had before she died. My breathing was uneven. My body shaking so violently it made me sick. I was glad I hadn’t eaten for my stomach turned, threatening to empty.

“Slowly I came to. Slowly the world came back to me. I could hear Marquelo whispering to me. I could smell the car exhaust that made the city air so distinct.

“But all I could see was that face. All bloodied and charred. All I could see was the face of my father.”

~~~Zachary Morgan

“I skipped that day.” Zack started the second he took his seat. “I’m not afraid to admit it. It was a beautiful day and we never do anything in the mornings anyway. It was me, my friend Danny, and my adopted sister Jane. I knew we shouldn’t have. I almost told Jane to stay in class, but I didn’t, and I guess in a sense I payed for it.”

“How old were you then?” I cut in trying to catch up on my notes. He turns to me, but it seems he’s locked in his memories.

“Danny and I were fifteen, sixteen maybe. About your age I think. Jane was about fourteen. I don’t know. I’d much rather put that world behind me in all honesty.’ He looks up at me expectantly and I nod for him to go on.

“LIke I said we were skipping school. Danny had gotten high while we were waiting for the subway. I guess that explains how he was acting that day. I never touched the stuff. Not in front of Jane. I don’t remember how long we’re been walking when the first plane hit. I didn’t see it, but the smoke was unmistakable.

“We ran to bet a better look. You could see the fire, even from where we stood so far away. I didn’t know what to think at first, but after about ten minutes, it was old news, no longer important. I didn’t even take the time to think about all the people up there caught in the flames, choking from the smoke.

“The second tower was hit. That’s when things clicked. This wasn’t an accident. Someone was after our country. We had to check the news. That was my first instinct, to find out what was going on.

“But Danny had a different idea. He kept on towards the towers as if nothing happened. We needed to get back. Get back to school. Get away from there. He kept going. No matter what I said he never turned.

“I should’ve gone back right then, and left him alone. I should’ve saved Jane and gone back to school. Instead, there I was walking stupidly to the site of a terrorist attack.

“Another plane came. It flew right over out heads. I remember thinking, ‘Not another one. Oh God not another one. Hadn’t they done enough?’ I a=watched it circle the building as if deciding where to crashing, choosing who to kill. All I could think about when I saw that plane crash was how those people felt, knowing they would die.

“That’s when I finally gave up on Danny. That’s when I took Jane’s hand and began to head back. And that’s when some annoying eavesdropper decided to tell me that all transport was down.”

“I cursed loudly, immediately remembering that Jane was with me and turned saying that we might as well make sure Danny stayed out of trouble.

“I kept watching the towers, sure that something horrible was immanent. Crowds began forming. People with cameras, phones, camcorders. What was wrong with them? Don’t they have lives? We were obviously being attacked by terrorists, and they come outside just so that they could record it? I guess I shouldn’t be judging. I was skipping after all. Still It gets to me that these idiot people would just-

“We were about one or two blocks away when I noticed it.

“‘Is? Is? It leaning?” I asked aloud causing heads to turn. Jane followed my finger, and we all stood there frozen. ‘Oh God, it is. We have to get out of here Jane. Come on.’ I started pulling her away, calling for Danny to follow.

“But Danny wasn’t listening.He just stood there pulling another drag. I smacked the burning joint out of his mouth and slapped him across the face, hoping to sober him up some.

“‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ I yelled. Our lives were a risk, and here he is getting high. I grabbed his arm and pulled him away harshly as police ordered us away. I glanced up. I don’t know why. I just felt the need to. I glanced up, and in that second I saw the South Tower implode.

“It fell to the ground sending up clouds of dust. I guess reality finally hit Danny, because he started to run. I take off after him, Jane close on my heels as the entire crowd stampedes like a herd of cattle.

“The dust comes at use, flooding the streets. It was like a monster, a disgusting beast rampaging through the city, eating everything in its way. I ran. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, wanting to go faster yet. The beast was on us, only feet away.

“I hear a yelp, and turn just in time to Jane tripping, falling to the ground. The beast comes closer. I run back, trying to cover the short distance before the monster swallowed her whole.

“Too late. When I get there, all I see is her hand breaking from the wall of dirt. I take it, falling to my feet from the force of the cloud. Debris flies around us, as we sit huddled together there in the middle of the street. We cover our noses with our shirts, and get to our feet. As much as we wanted to, we didn’t run. There was no where to go.

“That beautiful day was gone. Dead. It was as if God had blown out the sun. It was like the night of a new moon, but all the stars refused to shine. It was like being locked in the trunk of a car, of a basement closet. You could bang the door and scream for help, but no one would here you.

“We were trapped, coughing, gasping for what little air we could find. I felt alone. My only company was the warmth of Jane’s hand in mine as we made our way on. I had to get her out. I needed to get her safe. But there was no where to go. On all sides there was darkness. Not even the sun shone through. I wrapped my arm around Jane, and in weak voices we prayed together, stumbling on with no direction.

“I was feeling light headed and sick. My feet no longer wanted to carry me, but I kept on. I kept praying, until my feet stumbled over each other and I fell to my knees. Jane fell next to me, unable to support herself.

“‘You’re going to be okay Jane.’ I whispered, gathering her limp body into my arms, ‘You’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it out of here. Stay awake Janey. Please. Stay awake. Janey no. Janey don’t close your eyes.’

“I looked up my tears caking dirt to my face. I was able to see a few feet in front of me as the dirt began to thin, then a pigeon, no a dove, landed only a few feet in front of me. It’s feather were dirty, its wings covered in dust, but beneath it all I knew was pure white. I struggle to get to my feet, picking up Jane and stumble forward.

“The dove looks at me for a second then flew off, into a light so bright and beautiful it was the essence of hope itself.”

~~~ Maria Insuela

“How many people have you interviewed so far?” Maria asks, not even bothering to sit down.

“You’re the third.” I answer simply, unsure why she wan’t to know.

“It never gets easier you know. Even after so many years of therapy, I’m still not past it.” She speaks like I’m offending her, but I ignore it, sure that she has her reasons.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No. I want to. I have to.” She takes a slow breath and begins to pace.

“I was working at the world trade center for about a year when it happened. Bridget, My colleague, had been in my office the second it happened. We were talking, partially business, partially rumors. Suddenly, the whole place starts shaking. My first reaction was to scream and dive under my desk, covering my head with both arms screaming that we were being bombed, that the terrorists were after us.

“Oh, sure it sounds funny, ridiculous even, but really, was I so wrong? You weren’t there. You can’t even begin to understand. I hate to sound rude, accusing even, but it’s true. You have no Idea how it felt. All that terror. I was still shaking when Bridget had finally coaxed me out.

“‘What happened? What’s going on?’ Those were the first things out of my mouth when I had finally calmed down. I was able to see the smoke outside my window. I was so caught up in my hysteria that I don’t even remember how we found out it was a plane crash, or when they told us to stay.

“The fire was spreading. I could feel it. The heat was burning me alive. I had stripped down to my under shirt, which was soaked in sweat. I paced my office frantically as bridget watched from me chair.

“‘We have to get out of here!’ I yelled ripping at my hair. ‘We’re going to die.’

“‘We were told to stay Maria, we’re going to stay. They know what they’re doing.’ Bridget said calmly, but it only agitated me. How could she be so calm in a situation that called for so much hysteria.

“I don’t care! It’s getting hotter by the second, and we’re going to burn to death! We need to get out of here!” I ran at the window, pounding it until it broke ‘I’m gonna jump!’ I screamed at the top of my lungs when my fists broke through. I was hanging out, feeling to cool air against my burning flesh.

“Bridget pulled me back in kicking and screaming, eventually getting me to calm down, saying everything was alright. Everything was fine. The firemen would be up here any second to save us. I steadied slowly, but then something caught my eye.

“I broke free from Bridget’s grip and ran back to the window looking down. Looking down into a familiar face. I saw his curly black hair, his brilliant green eyes, that seemed to hold all my memories of summer. Jonathan. Jonathan my fiance. I watched the wind tear at his suit as he fell further and further away from me, until he was just a speck. And I swear, I swear, as he fell, he was smiling at me.

“I was pulled back inside again. My throat hoarse. Had I been yelling? Had I been screaming for him? Bridget took me away from the window, telling me to pray with her. I was too stunned to. I just knelt there and thought about how we were supposed to get married that next week. How we were going raise a family, with beautiful little girl. I was lost in my day dreams when the second tower was hit. We heard it.

“I screamed, clutching Bridget, clinging to her arm. I cried. I cried for what seemed like hours. The last plane struck, and I cried even more I wasn’t brave. How could I be? I was trapped in a burning tower waiting to die.

“I had lost all sense of time when the tower fell. I wasn’t even aware that the other had already collapsed.

“My eyes were shut tight. The floor beneath me fell away. I clung to Bridget’s arms, refusing to let go. I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t see. All I could hear was the whistling of wind around me as I fell, then eventually, my own screaming.

“It seems we fell forever. I didn’t realize it when we hit the ground. I thought we were dead. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness my dreams mixing with my reality. For a time, I believe, I went insane. I kept talking to Bridget. I never let go of her hand.

“They grabbed me. They were pulling me away from her. This time I was dead, ann the demons had come to drag me to hell for not praying with her. I held on to her hand, screaming her name, but they clawed me off. I was put by and ambulance, given oxygen. I breathed it in deeply, felling I couldn’t get enough.

“I made it out with only a broken leg and a few bruised ribs. I saw when they pulled out Bridget. Shrapnel pierced nearly ever inch over he body, her skin was cake in blood and dirt. Her face barely recognizable. She had already gone stiff.”