Nine years ago today I woke up, rode the bus to school, and noticed that things weren't quite right. I walked into my sixth grade class and instead of finding the teacher doing roll call, everyone was staring at the television, which was on a news program.
Never having been one for watching the news, it took me a few minutes to realize what was on the screen. That's really my main memory of 9/11. I remember not knowing what was going on. I remember the teachers abject horror, the students talking, the confusion of not quite understanding what had happened.
It wasn't at all like the movies, where when something evil happened you knew it was going to because the music turned ominous, and how in a book you knew because of foreshadowing. It was an ordinary day, and then it wasn't. There were two tall buildings, and then there weren't. People were alive, and then gone; families were together, then forever ripped apart. And suddenly there were a lot of words that everyone was familiar with: Terrorism. Osama bin Laden. Death. War.
Nine years later, and it still confuses me.
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