9/11 Means Hope in American
America stood in the center of the large New York street that was usually filled with commotion and noise. Not today, though.
This day was spent at home with your families, close to the people you care for and for those who care for you.
This same day, Alfred F. Jones stood in the spot where the twin towers used to stand tall.
He felt it that day. He could feel every hit of the tower, the crashing to the ground, each life gone brought him pain. Each and every person killed was fighting and dying for their country. And their country was dying a little bit too.
America shed no tears. Those tears were shed for him, by his hurting citizens as they looked at their husband's or mother's or sister's or brother's or wife's or daughter's grave. Families shed tears together, for their loved one. As one nation.
An their tears and sadness gave America power. The tragedy that one day brought them was unsurmountable; that day gave America the strength to move forward.
It was because he knew that their nation had grown stronger because of it. They lost many good and innocent people that day, but gained a unity as a whole that could not be broken. Those people who died on September 11, 2001, did not die in vain. They helped shape a nation and brought people back together, reconnecting friendships and mending wounds of years past.
America felt the presence of people around him. Looking up he saw his 2 brothers, Peter and Mattie, on either side of him, blue and purple eyes sparkling with fresh tears and lips pulled into small smiles that matched each other's faces. Francis stood behind him, clasping his shoulders with a wistful look in his eyes.
Arthur knelt in front of him and asked him, "Are you ok, Alfred?"
And he nodded. Because America was alright, and so was Alfred F. Jones.
A/N: I needed to do this.
R.I.P: To all killed on 9/11, 2001
You are remembered and honored.
With Love, Manga60123