Fallen.

Chapter 1




 

september 11, 2001


I was sitting in my classroom when it happened.
My school's principal burst into my first grade classroom.  Her black mascara was leaking down her face in long streaks that almost reached her chin.  She fiantly whispered something into my teachers ear.  
The two of them just stood there, sobbing silently in eachothers company.
Before I knew it, us children were being rushed from the building and into our homes.
My mother was watching the news alone in the living room.  She wouldn't let me in, she wouldn't tell me what was going on. I was afraid.  Afraid of the un-known, afraid of the mourning, afraid of the confusion. 
All I knew was the fear.
The fear, and the tears.
My father never came home that night.  He didn't came home the next night, or the next one, or the one after that. 
My mother fell asleep on the couch that night, leaving the television on.  My scrawny, seven year old body, leapt gracefuly yet silently down the stairs, and took a peak at the television screen.
What i saw was devastating.  Two large airplanes came flying towards the ground at a remarkable speed.  The pilots seemed to have no reign over thier machiens as they spun and tipped out of controll.  They were about to crash on the ground when another object came into veiw. 
Two resolute twins stood firmly, side by side, grazing the bright morning sky.  I recognized those buildings, one of which held my fathers place of work.  The two skyscrapers, known as the twin towers, were hit, and knocked down, by the planes. 
I watched the video of chaos breaking through.
Fires broke out along with panic amungst the innocent bystanders.
I watched in terror, suddenly realizing why my father never returned home form work today.
I walked over from my hiding spot on the stairs and silently turned off the television. Not caring if my mother saw me or not, i sat on the ground at her feet and wept.  I wept for the towers and my father.