Not your Typical Day

| December 9, 2014 | 0 Comments

I slowly flip my pillow to the cooler side and try to fall back asleep. The sun peaked through the blinds of my small, over filled, apartment, I need to get up… ugh. I am a 17 year old girl. It is September 11, 2001, I currently have a internship at the twin towers.

I am pumped for this weekend because my little sister is flying in from Florida for the weekend for her birthday, she is turning 13. Although it has been many months since I’ve seen her, we keep in touch by texting everyday so I won’t be awkward.

It is 7:17 and I am pulling up to work in my Volvo, I currently have a pumpkin spice latte for my boss and a frozen green tea for me from Starbucks. I really like my job, it is mostly peaceful and relaxing but it can get kind of heatec during lunch hours. Finally getting to my boss’ office, I hear a ear shattering scream. Suddenly the whole building shakes and I drop both of our drinks.

What is happening? The floor above me fell onto my head sending me to the floor when I realize what was actually happening. A plane has crashed into the building. Screams fill my ears as I notice a small flame start in the cockpit of the plane. I rush back up to my feet and wipe of my khakis, I’ve got to get out of here. “RUNRUNRUN!” a man screams while shoving everyone down the stairs and out of his way.

The flames have now spread and the whole building in on fire. I could either burn to death, get crushed by the falling building, or I could jump to my death. At the moment jumping seems less painful than the other options.  Is it worth it? Is there any chance of surviving if I do not jump?

Rushing to the top of the building it seems I am not the only one with the idea of jumping. Now standing at the edge, I pray for everyone involved in this tragedy. Hurling myself from the building time seems to freeze, just before it ends.

 

Tags:

Category: News

About the Author ()

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

banner ad banner ad