An inch from death
Date Submitted: 1/30/2018
I started working for an accounting firm in Stockholm, Sweden in 1999, when I was 23 years old. Two years later, we signed a joint-venture contract with a large company in New York. My sister had moved to the states a few years earlier, and was at the time a stewardess for United. As I wasnâ€™t living in the states at the time, I never asked her where she was flying, but I wanted to see her while I was in New York. Tuesday the 11th of September, I had scheduled a preliminary meeting at 9am on the 80th something floor in the North Tower. I was only going to be in New York during that day, and my sister was supposed to be leaving for Los Angeles on flight 175. She called in sick and took a flight down to New York on the night of the 10th to see me. I postponed my meeting in the morning so I could see her, and we went to have breakfast at a restaurant a few blocks away from the WTC. The towers were both visible from where we were sitting, but I had my back turned against the window, with my sister could see out the window. I had just gotten my pancakes, and just looked at the pancakes while eating them before I noticed my sister had gone quiet. I looked up, and she was staring out the window with her mouth open. I didnâ€™t think much of it, I thought someone had fallen on the street, or maybe a car crash or something. I heard screaming coming from outside, so I turned around, and I saw nothing but debris and dust further down on the street. I asked my sister what was going on, and she just said â€śthe tower...â€ť. I looked up, and it looked like half the tower was gone. My sister later found out she was supposed to be on the second plane, and she lost one of her friends on flight 175.
Those who die innocent deaths never really die. They are everywhere; we just don't see them in quite the same way. And the culmination of what they were and what their death meant is as prevalent and tangible as the warmth in your soul and the sorrow in your heart.
Imran (story excerpt)