September 11, 2001: A Short Story

I anxiously wait for my teacher Mrs. Lane to pass back our spelling tests from Monday. It was now Tuesday so that meant that whoever did exceptionally well got to pick a sparkly pencil out of the jar that twinkled with glitter. I peeked over my Power Puff Girl glasses to try to sneak a peek just as I noticed Mrs. Burns run into the classroom frantically. She was the other second grade teacher, and she always seemed to be excited over the smallest of things. Except, this time she is frightened and her face has panic written all over it. The intercom suddenly boomed dramatically over us with the principal’s bewildered order that asked us to get underneath our desks and cover our heads. Mrs. Lane spoke with her voice wavering, she said that airplanes were crashing into buildings because there were bad people who wanted to hurt us. Salty tears hit my chapped lips as I worried about my big brother who was down the hall in his fifth grade classroom. I wanted to crawl and hide with him but as I took a hesitant step we were told to form a line by the door. We are now in the school’s basement which
I remember September 11, 2001 like it happened two days ago. This was the day terrorists decided to attack our nation. I remember the panic and the feeling of the world crumbling around you. Each year I turn on the tv to watch the memorial ceremony for the nearly 3,000 lives that were tragically lost. I see the endless tears of parents, friends, and loved ones grieving their heroes 14 years later. Each year the facts never change, what happened on that Tuesday will never change or make anyone feel any better. For one day a year the entire nation is reminded of a time when something precious was stolen from us, and for families who had something irreplaceable stolen from them. I was seven years old on that day, and it has forever changed me. I’ll never forget watching those two giant Legos burn and feeling so unbelievably sad without yet understanding