Date Submitted: 9/11/2017
I was 13 years old and had just started my 8th grade year in Kansas City. As the bell rang at the end of algebra class, my teacher just broke down crying at the board. Most students headed out in normal fashion, but a few of us stayed behind to ask her what was going on.
She mentioned that some planes had flown into buildings, but I didn't find out until a little later that those acts were intentional.
I remember walking to lunch hearing reports of a bomb exploding at the pentagon, but that nobody knew for sure.
We spent the rest of the afternoon glued to the television screens until our parents came to pick us up...most of whom just looked shocked and unsure of what to say.
Like so many others, I won't ever forget seeing those events play out on television, or forget those feelings of confusion, sadness, and fear.
I stood there feeling bad about whoever was in the plane or helicopter, but not feeling anything ominous... THEN... I see it... It was almost like slow motion but it was moving so fast... So low... You didnít have time to gasp... It hit the second tower and disappeared, and suddenly the biggest fireball I have ever seen in my life just shoots wide and high into an ocean blue sky... Whoever wasnít stunned on the train suddenly screamed as everyone ran to the windows...
Brian (story excerpt)