Ags

We sit down at my dad’s work desk, my dad working on his computer while I start doing my homework. Suddenly, my dad’s phone starts ringing. He looks down at it, and then quickly looks over at his watch. He turns to me, and asks, “Sophie, would you mind getting me a sandwich and a cup of coffee from downstairs? I need to take this call.” I notice he used my full name, and I nod, understanding that it’s important.

I take the elevator down to the ground floor that contains the cafeteria. As I’m about to start making the coffee, I hear a big explosion, and I can feel the ground shake. For a second everything is frozen, and then everyone runs outside to figure out what’s happening. I’m starting to get really scared. I try to get back to the elevators, but it is impossible to move around all the running people. After what feels like an eternity, someone starts talking over the speakers. I can’t make out everything, but I think I hear the words explosion, tower one, and under control.

I don’t understand what’s happening and decide to follow the stream of people heading outside. As I enter the street, I see all the people around me looking up towards the sky. When I look up, my whole body freezes, and my mind goes blank. There is a big hole in the side of the World Trade Center one tower, and black smoke is coming out of it. I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing. It feels unreal, like I’m in a dream – a nightmare, seeing myself from the outside. Then I notice all the horrified faces around me and know with a sudden certainty that this is real.

Abruptly, I get a bad feeling in my stomach, and I look back up at the towers. I just know that something terrible is about to happen, and I know that the only thing I can do is stand here and watch. As I keep looking up, I notice something in the corner of my eye. I turn to the second tower, and what I see then will be stuck with me until the day I die. A plane is flying straight towards the tower. I don’t think it will hit the building. That would make no sense, it has to be some kind of trick, maybe the plane will suddenly change direction. But it doesn’t. I stand there, frozen in my spot as the plane soars straight into the tower. There is a huge explosion, and black smoke is now coming from both of the towers. I don’t hear the gasps and cries from people beside me, or the panicked screams from inside the building. The only thing I hear is my heart thumping in my ears as one word runs through my head: DAD!

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m running the opposite way of everybody else. I fight my way through people, trying to make my way back inside. Memories of my dad flows through my mind as tears stream down my face. I can’t bear the thought of losing him; he’s my best friend! He’s always been there for me, and I don’t know what I would do without him.

I get inside the tower, and the chaos is even worse here. There are people everywhere, rushing out of stairs, running into and out of doors, and I get pushed over more times than I’m able to count. But I refuse to give up. I make my way to the elevators, only to discover that they are broken. I’ve almost lost all hope, when I see an unused staircase. I make my way over, but before I can reach it, my arm is yanked back. I’m being dragged outside. Then someone is carrying me. I’m screaming and kicking, waving my arms and yelling for my dad. Then I’m crying into the person who is carrying me. The last thing I notice before I pass out is the sunflower, still placed behind my ear.

10 years later

“Soph, are you okay?” For half a second I think he has returned, that he’s visiting me through my memories. Then I’m brought back and realize it’s my mom who must have noticed me zoning out. “I’m okay, just thinking about everything”, I answer her. “You still miss him, don’t you?” she asks me, even though she already knows the answer. I can feel tears threatening to escape as I turn to her and ask, “Don’t you?” “Oh, honey”, she says in a soft voice, “of course I do, and I don’t think that I’ll ever stop.” She takes a break, allowing me into her arms as tears stream down my face. “But” she continues, “I don’t think he would have wanted us to spend our time crying over him. He would have wanted us to remember him in all the good things in life and move forwards.” She takes my face in her hands and looks at me. “You know he loved you very much, right?” she asks. All I can do is nod, and I hug her again.