9/11 True Narrative

The morning of 9/11 I wasn’t going to go to work because I had an allergy appointment,

It was a sunny day here in New Jersey, I was getting ready to go see the Twin towers memorial the next day."Julie! Come down here please we need to talk!"said my mother.

Her voice was telling me to stay calm, this is normal,everyone goes through this. But I knew that something was wrong, it stung and I was not supposed to feel anything. Every kid gets a contact in their eye when they turned 11, today was my 11th birthday. I felt them touch my eye, she told me that the contact was in, and my world went dark……

“Don’t look down” the wind whispers tenderly as it blows through my golden trusses. Trifling detailed fragments of snow fall from the skies above, meeting the horizon. They are the calmness in this storm. My storm. The jagged icy glaciers, sharp as a knife, smooth as silk, tower overhead. Every breath I take is a battle, every thought is a war and every step is one closer to the end.

September 11, 2001 began as any ordinary day for Elvia Hogan as she left her home and headed for work. She recalled the sun shining and the sky a bright blue as she entered the counseling office at Hunter High School. As she approached her desk, she opened her computer to find the unbelievable image of an airplane in the top of one of the World Trade Center buildings. Phones were ringing, as the counselors began watching the news to follow what was happening when suddenly, a second plane flew into the neighboring tower.

The catastrophic day of 9/11 will always be remembered as a day of loss, and a day that made America stronger. I interviewed my mother, Iryna Getman on this horrific day. My mother immigrated here in July of 2001 from Berdyansk, Ukraine. Here is her story.

All I wanted was moments with my mom when I was nine; I did not get it. What about age ten, eleven, and twelve? My whole childhood was snatched out from under me, and I had to grow up way to fast. Don’t worry, I did not blame you. I blamed myself until I was fifteen. It was my fault my mother tried to drown my sisters and me. I saw signs and clues. I could tell she was not acting herself, but I said nothing. I didn’t go and ask another grownup for help. I put my sisters’ lives in danger, because I didn’t protect them.

"This is 911, what is your emergency?" A desperate eleven year old girl tried to answer the operator's question, but all I could manage were sobs.

Claire Alistar shifts in her seat to cross her right ankle primly over her left and readjusts her large, black sunglasses so that they sit farther down on her nose so that she looks even more unimpressed. "Beck got caught during a job in cicily? Really? Cicily?"

She had given this up. All of it. The path of the witches, she had decided, was not hers to take. Wielders of the gift were meant to maintain balance in a world of evil. But those same protectors had fallen prey to greed, pride and an overbearing lust for power. Bethany was raised on the stories of covens going to war and even siding with the monsters they had sworn to destroy. Beth had promised never to choose a side. And to fulfill her promise, she rid herself of her powers. So why was she here, staring at the tattered notebook that contained not only her history of witchcraft but also her magic? Pale, slender fingers flipped through the makeshift grimoire. The nightmares hadn’t stopped. They wouldn’t. Bethany was normally conscious enough to dream lucidly, but the dreams were spiraling out of control. She was aware of the old phrase, “if you die in your dreams you die for real”. That’s what frightened her. Every night she died. Her lack of magic made her vulnerable to attack. The identity of the attacker was unknown. But not

September 11, 2001, changed me, I remember it was a Tuesday morning I put my sons Frank and Brandon on the school bus. I remember looking up at the sky thinking what a perfectly gorgeous weather day it was. The large fluffy white clouds made the shade of the blue sky even more deep and brilliant.

It was a day like any other, until Surai hears a piercing screech that slowly fades away. “Hey, did you guys hear that?” says Surai. “Yeah it sounded like a scream” replies Tooler. “I wonder who it was?” questions Mickey. All of them rush to the edge and discover nothing. They all say their goodnights and return to our rooms. They all go to sleep wondering who made that noise. The next day we wake up and find a load of people crowded on the deck. “It’s chaos” Surai says. Tooler goes up and asks Schmedrick what’s wrong. “Schmandon has gone missing, and a bunch of people thought they heard a scream last night” replies Schmedrick. Surai, Mickey, and Tooler then realize that it was Schmandon who made the scream last night. “I think that Schmandon

Suena was walking home and she felt like she was being followed, but she thought it was because of the horror movie she watched the night before. It was about a twenty minute walk for Surena to get home and she often enjoyed but that day she didn’t enjoy it. When she got home there was a note on her fridge from her mother saying she’ll be back in a couple of hours and that there was leftovers in the fridge. She still had that icky feeling that someone was watching her, she kept saying in her head that it was just the horror movie scaring her. Her dog Belle was eating the couch again, when her mom got home she’d be mad. Surena went up stairs to her bedroom and forgot to lock the door that day, when her mother warned her many times before to

As usual she was lying on her bed watching time tick by, hour by hour, minute by minute, second by second. She did not like changes in her routine; she needed things to be just as they were. The ball of wool on the table had to be exactly 5cm away from the lamp, the bed linen needed to be colour co-ordinated and symmetrical and the books on the shelf had to be arranged in alphabetical order. A sudden screeching howl from outside threw off her concentration. “Oh my, what mongrel could that be at this hour of the day?” she screams out. She begrudgingly shuffles towards the window to determine what wretched being had disturbed her. As the sun rises from the horizon she shivers and pulls her coat closer to her body as the warmth of the sun

Skye opened her eyes after what she had thought would just be a little cat nap. But nope, she found herself in a rather small room. "This must be the servants quarters," She mumbled to herself, with the following yawn. "They could have awoken me," She added with a sigh. "But then again, maybe they were afraid after that lecture I had given," She concluded, stepping out of bed. Her head then glancing over towards the door, where she had heard a gentle knock. "I apologize to disturb you; however, are you awake, Skye?" Sebastian asked gently. "I am, you may enter," She responded, grabbing a hairbrush that was conveniently placed on the small nightstand next to her. Sebastian entered the room, carrying a black & white maid uniform. "This will be your attire while working here at the estate. Also, a tailor will be by later this afternoon to take measurements for your off-duty tasks." He announced, gently lying down the uniform onto the bed.