The Towers

On the morning of September 10, 2001, Sarah Wong wakes up to the sound of her alarm clock. She gets out of bed and cleans her room, then walks into the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. As she places two slices of bread into the toaster, her french bulldog, Muffin, comes in and paws Sarah’s ankle, barking. 

“Good morning to you, too,” Sarah says, smiling. “You want some breakfast?” 

The dog barks twice.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She pets the top of Muffin’s head. She turns away and opens the cabinet over the counter, grabbing the bag of dog food. She closes the cabinet and walks over to where Muffin’s food and water bowls are, then pours some kibble into the food bowl. Almost immediately, the dog runs over to the bowl, devouring the food. 

Sarah goes back to the counter to check the toast. Seeing that it’s not yet done, she goes to the fridge to get two eggs, a pack of raw bacon, a container of butter, and a slice of cheese. She cracks the eggs into a bowl and whisks them with a fork. Opening the oven, she grabs a small frying pan and heats it up, then adds a little bit of butter to melt. She then fries four slices of bacon until crispy then puts it on a plate and sets it aside. Afterward, she scrambles the egg in the bacon fat, then turns off the heat. 

She spreads butter on the two slices of toast, then puts on two slices of bacon, the eggs, cheese, the rest of the bacon, and the other slice of toast. She eats her sandwich in a hurry, then goes back to her room to get dressed. She puts on a crimson red slim-fitted skirt, a white dress shirt, and a crimson tie. She also puts on a pair of red pumps and dangly rose earrings with gold chains. She brushes her long, wavy, dark-chestnut-colored hair into a ballerina bun, leaving her bangs out. 

She applies minimal makeup: a little blush here, some highlighter there, Opening her jewelry drawer again, she grabs a gold and ruby ring and puts it on her middle finger. She looks at herself in the full-length mirror, studying her reflection. She finds everything just right, her olive skin complimented by the color scheme, and are her brown, almond-shaped eyes. She grabs her purse, a small red leather backpack, and goes back to the kitchen. 

As soon as she enters, she gets smothered by Muffin. Sarah does a low squat and pets her. 

“I have to go to my interview now,” Sarah explains. “I’ll be back by lunch, okay? Mrs. Willison will be right next door to take care of you.” 

Sarah stands up and heads for the door, picking up her keys on the counter. She opens the door and Muffin whimpers. “Goodbye. See you at lunch!”Sarah exits the apartment and closes the door, locking it with her key.

She walks down five flights of stairs to get to the main floor, then goes outside to the parking lot. She unlocks her black Jeep, gets in, and starts the engine. She pulls out of the lot and onto the traffic-filled street. 

I hate  New York,  she tells herself.  Can’t wait to move out of here.

Despite how early it is, there is still a decent amount of cars on the road. After about fifteen minutes, she finally arrives at the Starbucks’ drive-thru. She orders her usual: a large, frozen french vanilla chai frappe with whipped cream and caramel drizzle. After that, she goes back to the taxi cab filled the street. 

It takes her another fifteen minutes to get to the World Trade Center, also known as the Twin Towers. She parks in the lot and heads to the South tower. The security guard opens the door for her, and she walks into the tower. She passes through the metal detector and bag check, walks through the lobby, and gets inside the elevator. She presses the button for the hundredth floor and the elevator shoots up. The people in there with her get off at various floors, and Sarah gets off when it’s her turn. 

Standing in the hall, she checks her phone to see what room she has to go to. She opens her memo app and it says Room 108 in bold, red letters. She walks around, looking for the room, and eventually finds it. She knocks on the door.

“Come in!” a friendly male voice replies.

She opens the door and steps inside the secretary’s office. “Are you Mr. Kraler?” she asks consciously. 

“The one and only,” he says merrily. “Come, sit down.”

She walks over and sits on the chair in front of the desk, facing him. She crosses her ankles and puts her purse on her lap. “Is this your office?”

“Yea, until I get a secretary.” He smiles. “I’m guessing that’s why you’re here?”

Sarah nods her head. 

He hands her a packet and pen. “I’m going to have you fill this out, then we’ll have a chat. Sound good?”

He leaves the office while Sarah fills out the form. It asks a bunch of basic information: her full name, her address, hobbies, skills. She finishes it in about five minutes, it being a six-page packet. Mr. Kraler comes back into the room and sits down on his chair. She hands him the packet. 

“May we begin?” he asks, looking at the first page.

“Sure,” Sarah replies quietly. 

“Okay...Ms. Wong? Is it alright that I call you that?”

“It’s fine.” She blushes.

He smiles. “Okay. So I’m going to ask you a few questions. Try to answer them as best as you can.”

He asks her a bunch of questions, one by one, and she answers them to the best of her ability. Time flies so fast that it’s almost a blur. 

* * *

“Guys, you didn’t have to,” Sarah says to her friends at dinner that evening.

“Girl, of course, we do!” Carrie says, flipping her black, natural hair over her shoulder. “You’re our friend, no, our sister. We need to celebrate one another!”

“Si, mi amigo,” Elena agrees.”I mean, come on, you just got a new job!”

“I know, but...”

“No,” Carrie interrupts, raising her glass of champagne. “To Sarah, and the best of wishes for her new job at the World Trade Center!”

“Cheers!” Elena toasts, raising her glass.

“Cheers,” Sarah says after hesitating. She lifts her glass, then they all take a sip. 

They finish their dinner of ribeye steak, white rice, and potato au gratin, chatting about the latest gossip and the new play that’s showing on Broadway. Two minutes after the waiters take their empty plates, another waiter comes with some more. 

“Dessert’s here!” Carrie exclaims, clapping her hands. The waiter sets a dish in front of each of them, then pulls out a blow torch. He turns it on and caramelizes the sugar on top of the custard.

“It’s creme brulee, your favorite,” Elena explains. The waiter walks away.

“Thanks, you guys,” Sarah says, tears in her eyes. 

“It’s nothing,” Carrie and Elena say at the same time.

Everyone breaks the sugar crust in unison. They eat their desserts, continuing to talk and chat.

* * * 

The next morning, September 11, Sarah wakes up at five in the morning to get ready for her new job as a secretary at the South Tower of the World Trade Center.

After taking a shower, she goes to her room to get dressed. She puts on a bluish-gray, slim-fitted dress with quarter sleeves, matching heels, and a white scarf with a blue and gray floral pattern. She also gets a small handbag with the same pattern as the scarf. She wears blue rose earrings and parts her hair down the middle, leaving it loose. She puts on some blush, mascara, a bit of highlighter, and a light pink lipstick that’s only a shade or two darker than her natural lip color. 

Checking her watch, she walks into the kitchen and looks out the window. It’s an overlook of the city, with the sun rising on the dark blue silhouette. 

I love New York, she tells herself, then pauses. I love it and hate it at the same time. There are so many things to love, and yet so many things to hate.

Muffin wakes up and rubs her head on Sarah’s ankle. Sarah pates Muffin’s head, smiling. 

Eventually, the clock turns 6:20 and she has to leave. She pulls out of the parking lot and drives to Starbucks’. She orders her usual coffee but goes to Dunkin’ Donuts to get her breakfast. She orders a bagel sandwich with sausage, egg, and cheese and a blueberry muffin.

Soon enough, Sarah arrives at the South Tower of the World Trade Center and walks into the building, showing her new ID card to the security guards. She uses the elevator to get to the hundredth floor and makes her way to room 108. She sets her coffee and breakfast on her desk, where she had her interview just yesterday. Just as the clock turns seven, she settles down in her chair, eating her breakfast.

For the next hour or so, things are pretty uneventful. But then, at precisely 8:46 AM, a loud crash comes from outside. Everyone on the floor, including Sarah, rushes over to the windows near the noise. Upon looking outside, they realize that a plane has crashed into the North Tower. They continue to watch as the first responders try to save the citizens in the building from the debris and ruins and evacuate them from the now burning building. 

And not that long after, at 9:03 AM, the South Tower was struck.