September's Not The Same Place Now

Note: I’m not totally sure about 9/11 and everything that happened, but I tried. This is all fiction by the way. Enjoy!

CW: Death, grief

James - 9-11-1

“Hey, Lana! It's good to see you!” I say, pulling my sister into a tight hug. She smiles slightly, her eyes empty. 

Her husband died a few weeks earlier, and she was still grieving. I wouldn’t blame her. It's a normal process that we had been through two times before. Even then, it still hurts.

I'm honestly glad that I didn't know her husband that well. They had got married when she graduated high school, and so she was very close to him. I, on the other hand, didn't have to deal with the grief of his death, because I didn't know him. It's selfish, I know, but I don’t think I could have dealt with another death, no matter who it was.

“It’s good to see you too James. As always.” she says blandly. 

I notice things I haven't noticed about her until now. She has more wrinkles, her hair is thinner and she has eye bags, probably from crying.

I can’t take this. She used to be so happy, so full of light, and now she’s like a light bulb that died out and than fell on the floor and broke.

Nothing like she was before.

People walk around us, probably wondering why we are just standing in the middle of a New York sidewalk, but right now, I could care less.

“James,” she says. We walk over to a bench and sit down. “If I die, I need you to take care of the kids.”

I have no words. I have no words and I might never have any words again. I can't believe that she would say something like that! That’s very serious….

“Don’t say that,” I say. “You can’t do that to me. I care about you too, you know.”

“James.”

“No.”

Tears fill her empty blue eyes. “You can’t stop me James. Maybe I don’t want to deal with this. Maybe, I don't care about myself.”

Comfort her. Put her in a mental hospital. Anything to keep her from harming herself, just anything! I yell at myself, but all I can do is shake my head.

“I don’t care if you hate yourself. I still love you. You're my sister Lana. You cannot do this to me.”

“Does it matter-”

“OH! OH MY GOD!” someone screams.

I turn around to see a plane crash into the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

Emerson - 9-11-1

I can’t believe my eyes when the World Trade Center gets hit by the plane. People are running around, screaming. I ran out of the restaurant, untying my apron. 

“As you can see, the North Tower had just been hit by an unidentified airplane!” a news lady says, pointing to the tower. My head hurts. Is this possible? Am I dreaming?

Time passes, and people just keep coming, keep talking and screaming and I just stand there. 

“Emerson. Ms. Emerson!” my boss runs out of the restaurant, a panicked look on his face. “It’s too dangerous out here! You should come back in-”

The South Tower is suddenly hit, and then everything explodes, and it is clear that America is under attack.

---

I run, seeming to pass everyone. The cloud of debris follows, but far behind. I've never run so fast in my life. 

“Help!” The clamor of everyone running almost covers up the shout, but it comes out loud and clear among the crowd. 

I don’t know if anyone helped that person. Maybe they got away, or maybe they were swallowed by the massive death cloud. Either way, they were still scared.

I mean, who wouldn’t be scared for their life? America is under attack.

A group of people pull me into a building, saving me from the death cloud. I take a minute to breathe, silently thanking these people for saving my life.

“Are you okay?” a man asks, helping me up off the ground.

“I'm fine.”

He sadly smiles. “I would say nice to meet you, but under these circumstances, that’s not the case.” he tells me. “I’m James.”

“I'm Emerson.”

A woman lays on the floor behind him. She seems to be unconscious or something. James sees me looking at her, and tears flood his eyes. 

“That’s my sister Lana.” James says. “She’s dead.”