On that fateful day in September, I remember I had woken up and gotten myself ready for another day in 1st grade. Usually, my mom would help, but she was absent for some reason. I went down stairs to eat my breakfast and I found my mother glued to the television, distraught. Not exactly sure what was going on, I watched the panic ensue on TV. Neither me or my mom could look away. I began to wait for the bus, and right as it pulled up to my house, the second plane hit. I remember getting on the bus, replaying my mom’s gasps in my head over and over and in a state of utter confusion. That day, I rode the route to school in silence. The rest of the day was a blur, with teachers trying to avoid frightening us with the tragedy unfolding in our own country. Although I was young, I will never forget that one beautiful September day waiting for the bus.