Nicole wrote this after 9/11 when she was eight. It is an unfinished fictional short story. I was, and still am, deeply moved by her thoughts and how that day affected her.
Nine Eleven
BOOM!!! All the stories had gone down! I remember crying that night. It was in New York City, my hometown. My Dad had been working in the World Trade Center, which we called the “The Twin Towers.” That morning I was awaking from home. Dad had taken me to school, when I when I said bye to him. I gave him our secret love sign like I always did (which was like one of our handshakes). I remember having a great day with all my friends. I can still feel the pain, and what I had felt like when the day ended, even though I was only eight-years-old at the time.
Life was hard, we had been homeless before, and we had been rich. That did not matter, because my Dad and I are were very glad to have each other. The loving and caring that he gave me, and how he made me feel proud of how I did in school made us tight. That is why I love him so much. You will never want to feel the pain I did. However, writing this story seems to be the only way to express my feelings for him, and at the same time express what happened to others, and what happened to my Father and me.
It was September 11, 2001; I had no way to know anything would even happen to my Dad or me. No warning: Nothing. In school, we were learning about how to add and subtract. Then we saw smoke. Some freaked out and others just thought it was a car wreck right by our school. Police had been gathering in large formations, heading down road where the smoke was coming from. I watched through the window and saw suffering people, but I was not sure what was going on and why more and more people were panicking. Teachers were screaming in horror. Some of my friends had even started to walk out of the building. No one was supervising us. I could not believe what was happening. It frightened me and gave me the chills. I had decided to see what was going on, so I too got up and went outside. By the time I got outside, there were people screaming and pushing. I realized that the Twin Towers were collapsing, piece by piece. I knew I could have been dead any second.
All of a sudden, I heard a voice calling my name, it was my Dad! We were so happy to see each other. Others were running past us in the crowd, trying their best to not to lose their lives. Surprisingly, we ran too and made it out in time. I was in the middle of the largest crowd ever, and then I realized my dad was no longer next to me! I prayed, as others shoved and pushed me out of the way. If only there was a way out of this mess, I thought to myself. I ran around looking for my Dad, when in the corner of my eye I saw someone. It was my Dad gasping for breath under the heavy smoke, surrounding the whole city. I helped him as much as possible, but I could not pick him up. Therefore, I lay there on the street with him praying in the alley crying and trying to give my Dad confidence that we will get though this together. I am not going to give up; I said to myself. We laid there for a while until someone saw us. But no one had really cared about others; they just went along without even helping my Dad or me. I got up and told my.... [This is Nicole’s unfinished piece.]
