11th grade. I walked in to my US History class as my teacher was watching the tv with his mouth gaping open. I joined him and several other classmates. All of us watching, not a sound was made. The first building was burning. Then BAM a jet plan flew into the 2nd building and it, too, caught on fire. We continued to watch as we gasped but still not a word spoken. Then the first building fell, followed by the second. We watched as people at ground zero ran for their lives, screaming, crying. The gigantic dust cloud covering everything in its path. Then my teacher turned off the tv and told us to go buy the newspaper when we get home, it's going to be "historic."
School was relatively normal for me that day. I was at a new school and didn't know anybody so I didn't talk to anyone about it. All after school events are canceled. I was hoping they'd cancel next school day, too. I was fortunate enough to not be effected by this event. I didn't know anyone who perished in the towers, nor know anyone who knows any victim or relatives of the victims even. So to this day I remain as I was that day...uneffected.
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Him: Ok, I have to ask, what do you believe?
Me: Shit happens.
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