‘My Heart Fell’

Late to art class again, which wasn’t seemly considering it was only the fourth day of school at Fashion Industries HS. I took my seat by the window, ate my breakfast, exchanged the normal prattle with my friends and thought to myself, “This is going to be my new routine.”

But before I even finished my breakfast, it was clear that nothing would be routine anymore.

“How could a plane hit the World Trade Center? There isn’t a cloud in the sky,” said Mr. H, fixated on the skyline, aghast at the site like the rest of us. The damage to the towers was all too clear from our vantage point at W. 24th Street. We explained away the gaping eye near the top of the tower as a terrible mishap.

Not an Accident

It wasn’t until word of a second plane hitting the other twin that our faces went from worried to fearful. This was no longer an accident. This was something planned.

As what we witnessed started feeling more real, I became more scared. Some people reacted by making immature comments like, “I hope they don’t bomb TRL!” and “Oh no, now I can’t shop at Century 21.” Reality hadn’t set in for them yet.

I needed to talk to someone, so I tried to find solace in my cell phone, but none of my calls to my mother’s cell phone or my house went through.

The Twins Collapse

The principal soon announced, “Two planes have crashed into the World Trade Center,” which was only news to the classes whose windows don’t face downtown. Then, one of the twins collapsed! The remaining twin burned during the rest of class.

Some retreated from the window but I was fixated. I looked down at my phone as I tried pointlessly to make another call. As I glanced up, my heart fell just as the twin did, forcefully and wretchedly down.

I couldn’t stop the tears from welling in my eyes. Neither could many of my classmates. The bell rang and we all funneled into the hall. We’d just seen our world come to an end. What were we supposed to do now?

I wandered back into my art class and sat by the radio. Soon news of the Pentagon and Pennsylvania crashes came through. I became so scared of what was going to happen next.

I decided to use the pay phones on the first floor of my school, but others had the same idea. I walked past the lengthy line into the auditorium where many students had taken refuge.

There were kids in circles praying, crying on their friends’ shoulders, or weeping alone. Counselors ran back and forth armed with boxes of Kleenex, trying to console bewildered students. It felt unreal. My eyes had become a movie camera, focusing in and out on each lamentable set.

Family Reunions

Soon frantic parents started to show up in the auditorium, desperate to find their children. They greeted each other with a hug and a kiss and made their way out, relieved, with smiles on their faces.

Once we were released from school, my friends and I walked uptown. Some people sat by train stations impatiently waiting for service to be restored. The streets were crowded like Six Flags on a Saturday, except no one was laughing or being loud. Conversations were held quietly. There was a heavy hush on the city.

We decided to sit in a McDonald’s at Times Square for a while to rest. Everyone there was captivated by the TV, which replayed the attack over and over.

Feeling Withdrawn

“It’ll be a long time before September 11th can be far from anyone’s mind, particularly now that the U.S. has attacked Afghanistan.”

My friends and I simply murmured how we couldn’t believe what had happened, while keeping an unblinking eye on the TV. The day had taken a toll on me. I had a headache from the crying and worry. I felt withdrawn from people as I was trying to cope.

The trains had started to run again. But it took an hour for me to get to my aunt’s house, which was only two stops from Times Square on the 2. I stayed at her place for a while and watched the endless replay the news had become before going home to the Bronx, which was another hour and a half trip.

When I got home, my little sister opened the door with a bewildered look on her face. “Ma’s been crying,” she said, which was a very rare thing.

“I just can’t believe it. All those people,” my mother said, followed by a hefty sigh. “No school tomorrow. It’ll be a while before things get back to normal.”

Could We Ever Feel the Same?

I sat in the living room and tried to recall what normal was. Could the city ever feel the same without the World Trade Center and all the souls that made it alive? The more I thought about it, the sadder I became.

For a while it felt like the city was stuck like a bumper car in the corner of the track. It’s been hard to get things started again. It’ll be a long time before September 11th can be far from anyone’s mind, particularly now that the U.S. has attacked Afghanistan.

Military conflict is alarming for many young people. War is unreal for my generation, something we only see in the movies and hear about in history class.

“Could you imagine all the boys we know going off to war, the ones in the train, the ones who hang out on the corner?” asked my friend Jasmine three days after the attack, as we struggled over the possibilities of war and the draft.

The attacks have made things in my life like shopping, getting my hair done, working and even school seem insignificant. So I’ve started to re-prioritize my way of thinking, to cherish the time I have on earth. I’ve started to treasure the relationships with my family and friends more. I’ve tried to let go of petty arguments or grudges that I’ve had.

For example, before the attacks, when my mother asked me to do the dishes at 11 p.m. when she knows I have to get up at 6:30 in the morning, we’d argue back and forth till one of us gave in (usually her). Now, instead of arguing, I’ll just do the dishes.

Checking in More

And I call my mother in the middle of the day much more than I used to, just to check in and see if everything’s all right. I know she worries more now. I also call my house to check on my little brother and sister when I know my parents aren’t there.

I’ve found myself needing to know where everyone is more. I think what made the attack so dramatic for everyone is that anyone from any walk of life could’ve been in the World Trade Center or the planes.

I realize now more than ever that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed to anyone. What if I woke up tomorrow and there was no school or no Manhattan because of another elaborate attack? Or what if my father had to go to war?

Fear Looms

As farfetched as those thoughts once seemed, they’ve begun to seem more possible. But it’s hard to expect the unexpected when, for my whole life, I’ve never had much to fear.

It’s hard to get back to normal because of the dread hanging over everyone’s head. Now when the trains slow to a halt between stations, people no longer catch an attitude. They stay quiet and hope that it’s just a delay and not another attack.

Thankfully, though, my friends help keep me up and I no longer feel withdrawn from them. Although the attacks are never far out of our minds, they aren’t the number one topic of conversation. It helps to act silly.

Although things are getting back to normal in some ways, the country lost a lot of its innocence and security. I hope America will be able to bounce back.