This was something I wrote yesterday in Creative Writing class because 9/11 is coming up soon. I started to cry.
September 11, 2001
I was in Kindergarten. I was five. My memory isn't that great, but I remember this:
I came home from school thinking today was a normal early dismissal. My sister, Erin followed me as the usual. We entered the living room. Grandma was watching the news. I knew something was wrong. She would watch the game show network.
On the TV, I witnessed two buildings caught on fire and plummitting to the streets of New York. I was awestruck. At the same time, I was dumbfounded. I thought this was all fake...until Grandma said, "Girls, your mother is in those buildings."
September 11, 2011:
I am in 10th grade. I am 15. I am very thankful for god sparing my mother's life. Because I now know of what actually happened that day almost ten years ago, I am scared to know what would've happened if the person who cared for me for almost sixteen years...didn't come home.
September 11, 2001
I was in Kindergarten. I was five. My memory isn't that great, but I remember this:
I came home from school thinking today was a normal early dismissal. My sister, Erin followed me as the usual. We entered the living room. Grandma was watching the news. I knew something was wrong. She would watch the game show network.
On the TV, I witnessed two buildings caught on fire and plummitting to the streets of New York. I was awestruck. At the same time, I was dumbfounded. I thought this was all fake...until Grandma said, "Girls, your mother is in those buildings."
September 11, 2011:
I am in 10th grade. I am 15. I am very thankful for god sparing my mother's life. Because I now know of what actually happened that day almost ten years ago, I am scared to know what would've happened if the person who cared for me for almost sixteen years...didn't come home.