The day was September 11th, of course. I remember my father keeping me from school that day, so we could go get some medication. I don’t remember what the medication was for nor where we got it. I remember that morning writing down on the papers “9/11/01” and I took notice of that date simply because “911”, the national emergency phone number. After we got the medicine from some pharmacy or clinic, my father took me to this office building I’d never heard of. I still can’t remember the name, but it started with a B. It was literally around the corner from the “Twin Towers” While we waited in a rather long line, my father sent me to his car to get something. Since I couldn’t find it, he eventually came out to help me find it and probably lost his place in line. We heard the sound of a plane (it was about 8:40 or a bit later), and it was clearly flying low. My father exclaimed “That’s not in regulations, that’s not safe at all” I brushed it off, he acted like he knew everything about aviation. Roughly five minutes later, that same plane he was complaining about struck the North Tower. EVERYBODY that was in line could hear it, such a significant sound. We all ran outside and shielded our eyes from the sun as we watched smoke billowing from the tower. I remember people saying swears I had never thought humane before. “Jackass of a pilot” was the last thing I remember hearing my father say. My father and I walked from the financial office to the plaza in between the towers. We heard many sirens and lots of commotion, the sirens were a common thing. People were rushing from building to building, street to street. It was a panic. I watched silently for a long time, not realizing that my father walked away while I stared at the inferno. Another plane was heard, I thought nothing of it. I thought maybe it was a helicopter or a rescue jet, I had no clue. While I heard many more people screaming, my eyes were so fixated on the North Tower, and the voices around me sounding so surreal, I hadn’t noticed another plane hit.. this time, the South Tower. “TERRORISTS! IT HAS TO BE TERRORISTS! IT’S TERRORISTS AND I KNOW IT IS!” I heard people screaming, quickly I snapped into reality. Terrorists? No way, not in America. Not in the United States of America. In my mind, it wasn’t possible that someone could invade our airspace and attack our buildings. But they did. Before I realized my father was no longer at my side, I was grabbed by a firefighter. He probably saved my life as a huge metal beam of some sort landed right in the place I was standing. While sitting on the back end of a firetruck, I then realized I was no longer with my father, and I was no longer in that financial office. My attention snapped back to the still crowd of people. They were completely frozen in place, the first responders were running by, seemingly in slow motion. It’d been a very long time, hours I’m told, but I was in shock. We all were. People were frozen in place and terrified as the South Tower collapsed. It was impossible to me. There was no way this was happening, and where the hell was my father? For some reason, I found myself running towards the collapsing building, I was grabbed by another person and turned around. I needed my father, where was my father? I ran to a NYPD auxiliary officer asking the whereabouts of my father, I was barely speaking English. I was sat in the front passenger seat of a police cruiser, I don’t remember what happened while I was in that car. I was in complete shock. Besides the North Tower collapsing almost 30 minutes later, I remember nothing from speaking to the officer to being home, finding out my father was killed by debris while standing too near one of the towers. I’ll never forget 9/11.