The Day I Will Never Forget

With today being September 11th, I thought I would write down everything I remember from this day, just 13 years ago. 

I was in the first grade. My teacher was Mrs. Case. She was tall with short dark hair and glasses.

Just like every other morning, my siblings, my mom and I gathered around the television in the basement to watch TVLand while she did our hair. I was sitting at my Mom's feet while she braided my long white-blonde hair when our phone rang. The caller id popped up on the screen, and it was my Grandma. 

My mom answered, gasped and asked what channel it was on. She picked up the remote and changed the channel to a news station before she had even hung up the phone. 

The first image I saw was two tall buildings. One had lots of black smoke coming out of it. Of course, me being just 7 years old, I asked a bunch of questions. 

My mom explained that these were the two of the tallest buildings called the Twin Towers. She said that someone had flown a plane into the building. I couldn't even fathom why anyone would willingly fly a plane into a building knowing they were going to die. 

My mind raced back and forth between the poor people on the plane and the poor people in the building that couldn't get out. 

Pretty soon, it was time to go to school. 

When I arrived, I asked my teacher if she knew about it, and she didn't. She took all of us to the library where we watched the news with our librarian, Mrs. Evans. By this time, the second building had been hit. 

I sat in the library for most of the day watching, trying to figure out what was going on. 

Then, the first building fell. 

And the second. 

I went home and continued watching the news. My brother and I even drew a photo of the twin towers and the planes that hit them. I still have it in the journal that I kept between my mattresses until the day I moved out last year. Now, it sits at home packed away somewhere. I will find it and post it, though! Most of the page is super black because that was our idea of the smoke.

My mom told me that we were going to war. 

I remember those words haunting me. I was 7. The only thing I had ever been told or seen about war was in history or the movies, where everyone is involved and everyone dies. 

I climbed underneath our table and pulled all the chairs in as far as they could go. This way, I was completely enclosed. I did this all the time when I was little and I wanted to get away. 

Then, I cried. I was only 7, and I was convinced I was going to die.

For the next months, which seemed like years, that was all that was ever on the news. 

Now, as I look back 13 years ago, I understand more of what happened. I understand that I am not going to die in this war.

I got to go to the Pentagon Memorial last year for my We The People class. That was my favorite memorial. It just breaks my heart. 

It is weird to me that this is something they will teach my kids in school, and I will be able to say that I lived to see it. Not only that, but that I remember that day is if it were only two years ago.