School's been going awesome. Everything is really going right sophomore year. My head is in the right spot, and I know more or less who I am. I'm really glad to be here. We got a new drama teach: his name is Mr. Morehead. He's pretty good. I just wish the class was as fun as it was last year to work with. I've also received a part in a local play: A Tale of Cinderella. I got in the chorus!
But what I'm really here to talk about is 9/11. I was 9 years old, in the third grade. I, surprisingly, remember several large points of that fateful day with perfect clarity, while the rest of the day falls unknown. I remember walking into the kitchen, and the TV was on. Now, we weren't allowed to watch TV during breakfast, cuz my brother and I would zone out and not eat. So it was strange. I do believe my mother was standing, watching the TV. I think she wore her bathrobe. She hadn't even changed.
Everything else is a fuzz. My mother explained it to me, and I, like many other kids in my grade, thought it was an accident to begin with. My mom changed that idea quickly. I got to school knowing that it was awful, what happened. All I can recall specifically from school is that this kid, Brad, said that it was, and I quote, "SO AWESOME!" That's how unreal it felt. That we could say it was awesome, like it was a movie or something.
As a side note, this Brad does not remember this moment. So clearly it meant more to me than him.
So, here's my point, let me know what you remember of this day. Did you go to school? Did your mom force you to stay home? Were you scared? Did you think it was an accident? Or, if you don't live in the United States, please let me know whether you heard at all, and what you thought.
I look forward to hearing all of your stories...