Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi. This fic takes place September 11, 2001. It is Au, and written in Eli's p.o.v, I will try to remain as IC as possible.
I do not own Degrassi, and unfortunately I do not own Eli Goldsworthy =(
I also don't own any real world quotes or references made in this story.
Dedicated to: Caitlynnn124, because she is awesome, and has given me so much encouragement on this story, Go read her stuff because it's awesome. The brilliant theory on villains belong to her..Credit for the title also goes to her, all her brilliance goes into this:)
"Today, we've had A National Tragedy"
- George W. Bush – Remarks at Emma Booker Elementary School. Sarasota, Florida – delivered 11 September 2001, 9:30 A.M. EDT
XxxX.
It happened. And because of it life will never be the same. But time goes on and, people forget. It's not easy, but it will soon be another tragedy in our countries history.
It's tales of destruction, whispers of pain, surrounding us, and our memories; barely touching some lives, taking others wholly, and tracing our days with the insufferable loss.
That day will stay with us forever.
If I pause for a moment, and lose myself in my memories, I can still hear the sound. I can hear the break of the building; hear it fall to pieces, the scorch of busted metal, and the burst of fire... But then it's gone, almost like it didn't happen.
My God how I wish it didn't happen.
Have you ever heard a noise so loud that for once in your life you heard utter silence?
Do you know how loud silence can be? How it screams of fear and uncertainty, how it yells out in pain, and leaves you standing there, your ears throbbing from its volume? I do.
I can still smell the smoke; I could practically feel it, like I was swallowing it whole. It was thick like coarse cotton candy pushing its way down my lungs, suffocating me, and giving me life at the same time.
Did I taste destruction? Was that smoke or was that death on my tongue?
Now, you would think, that when I close my eyes, I can still see the building falling. You would think that I would still see the dead bodies scattered around me, lives lost.
But when I stop and think when I let my eyes rest for a second I see the destruction, the loss. Don't think that I don't because I do, I really do. But, right as I'm opening my eyes, the second before I see the world around me, the one thing that stays in my mind is her.
The split second before I see, suddenly she is all I know. Suddenly the world is gone and all I see are her blue eyes staring back at me.
XxxX.
"Time is passing. Yet, for the United States of America, there will be no forgetting September the 11th. We will remember every rescuer who died in honor. We will remember every family that lives in grief. We will remember the fire and ash, the last phone calls, the funerals of the children. "
- President George W. Bush, November 11, 2001
XxxX.
"Eli! Wake the freak up!"
"Well this is a pleasant way to begin the morning," I thought to myself as I fell of the couch, and onto the floor. Just freaking perfect. Fantastic, Splendid, any other perfectly lame adjective to describe my level of happiness at the moment. Insert sarcasm here.
"Dude what the hell? I was sleeping you know!" I exclaimed, wanting nothing more than to crawl back underneath the covers and let sleep consume me once again, although knowing Adam he would probably throw a cup of ice water on me- Again. Not that I'm still holding a grudge about that or anything. I'm totally over that. Yeah, no not really, still pissed.
"You're going to be late for work again man!" He said throwing a pop tart at me. "Keep this up and they'll fire your sorry self. Besides, don't you have an important meeting today or something?" he inquired.
"Yes, because the ABS needs me or else they will suffer, and collapse without my brilliance," I retorted, sitting up, and stretching slowly. Making my way towards the kitchen where he was sitting I saw he was eating toaster waffles. Why the freak didn't he make me one?
"Get me a glass of water please?" I asked jokingly knowing that I'd get a rise out of him.
"I'm not your slave or your mom," he admonished, taking a huge bite out of his waffle. "Now go get changed and go to work already!"
"You just want me out of here so you can have your sexy times with Katie," I teased, thinking how him and his new "lady friend" were getting quite serious lately; my thoughts only confirmed further when I noticed Adam blushing like a little schoolgirl.
"Oh so she is coming over!" I exclaimed mockingly, deciding to take the teasing even further, "Well in that case stay off my bed, or better yet out of my room period, and spray the place with Lysol when you're done okay?"
"Shut up and go to work you jerk" he said walking out of the room.
I merely rolled my eyes, glancing over at the clock I noticed it read 6:45, stuffing the rest of the pop tart in my mouth I walked towards my room to get ready.
XxxX .
"An attack on one is an attack on all." – NATO Secretary-General Lord Robertson.
XxxX .
Looking back now, it was just like any other day. Is that how it always happens? Or was it reserved for that day alone?
I didn't know what would happen. Hell even if someone would have attempted to tell me I still probably wouldn't have believed them.
I lived through it and I still can't bring myself to believe it sometimes.
Things like that just don't happen.
But it did.
XxxX.
"I may never be normal again. But this is my life now. I have to live it."-Mu Dhingra, Security Broker , suffered burns over a third of his body, and released from hospitalization October 2nd.
XxxX.
The world trade center is an amazing sight. No matter how many days I come to work here I still can't get used to the sight. Unlike many others who have grown accustomed to it, and barely give it a passing glance, I always stop and admire it when I get here in the morning, stop and take it all in. This morning however instead I find myself being run into by someone.
"Oh my wow, sorry! I am so so sorry!" a light voice exclaims as my briefcase and folders fall to the ground. Kneeling down we both begin to collect the scattered papers, and belongings that fell out of her purse. Grabbing my belongings and rising up, I extend my arm out to her, she takes it and stands up meeting my eyes. Wow. A small girl with short auburn hair and vivid blue eyes stands in front of me, and I have to keep myself from gaping.
"Thanks, and err so sorry about that. I didn't see you," she says softly, her eyes glance downwards as her face flushed in embarrassment.
"No worries," I say smirking slightly, before I can stop myself I continue, "You look a little familiar,"
"I'm starting as a secretary for ABS. Exciting isn't it?" she jokes as we start walking towards the entrance of the building.
"Well considering I work for the Marketing Communications Department, I'd have to say your job sounds like a lot more fun," I joke to which she laughs quietly. "She's cute," I think to myself, and I wonder why I haven't noticed her before.
She smiles at me as I open the door for her, and I smile thinking that today might not be so bad after all.
As we head off in separate directions she abruptly turns around. "I'll uh see you around?" she asks unsurely.
I smirk at her, "Guess you will."
XxxX.
"All of a sudden there were people screaming. I saw people jumping out of the building. Their arms were flailing. I stopped taking pictures and started crying."
-Michael Walters, a free-lance photo journalist in Manhattan .
XxxX .
I didn't even know her name. I didn't know anything about her or vice versa. But on the elevator ride all the way up to the 91st floor, as I was going up and, my ears were popping from the change in pressure she was on my mind.
Who knows why we ran into each other that morning?
Was it destiny or fate? Was it merely coincidence? If we hadn't quite literally (pun unintended) ran into each other would I still be here today? Do I even want to know the answer to that question?
Two people, two worlds apart, not knowing fate was working unbeknownst to them. A crash started and ended everything at the same time.
XxxX.
Her name is Clare Edwards. I know this because she's the first desk to the left once you walk about halfway through the floor, the desk right down the hall from my office. Not that I'm stalking her or anything. I just happened to notice her, and glanced over at the name tag, Clare. It's a nice name. She's nice and all but I can't figure out why I can't stop thinking about her.
Focus Goldsworthy! So you see a cute girl, and you're a little kinda sorta not really interested in her. Right. Come on! You see attractive girls all the time. This is New York freaking City. There are hot girls everywhere. So why am I still thinking about Clare Edwards? Clare Edwards get out of my mind, out of my thoughts. Get out of my head!
Oh hell... Isn't this one of the first signs of insanity? Great I'm going insane over here, next thing you know my head will go all 'The Exorcist' on me and I'll start chanting Latin. My boss will love me for that.
"Clare Edwards, and her bright blue eyes," I say bitterly, 'Why am I still-' a knock at the door pulls me out of my manic thoughts.
"Mr. Goldsworthy? There's an Adam Torres on line three waiting for you," she says.
It's her. Of course it's her.
"Thanks," I mumble, as she goes to leave I say, "Hey I remember you from this morning!" and she flushes slightly, "Ah yes, still sorry about that, I was barely awake caffeine deprivation gets the best of all of us I guess." she chuckles before smiling, and shutting the door softly behind her.
Shaking my head, I roll my chair over closer to the phone and press line three.
"French fry factory how may I help you?" I say smoothly.
"Wow!" Adam Exclaims. "Eli, I always knew your calling was the fast food industry!" he jokes.
Crap, I knew I never should have taken that job at Burger King when I was seventeen. It's given me nothing but misery since Adam can't seem to let it go. But then again he didn't' t mind so much when it paid for rides in Morty to the comic book store now did he?
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. So what's up?" I ask, still curious about the reason for the phone call.
"What I can't call just to say hi?" He mocks, as though he calls to say hello all the time. Now I know something is up. Adam Torres hates phone calls. He communicates by text and text only, do this is really out of the ordinary.
"Dude the last time you called to say 'Hi' was ... Never" I state plainly. It's true. Adam isn't the just stopping to chat kind of guy.
"True, anyhow Katie and I were wondering if we could all go get some coffee. She's never been to the towers, and I told here I would show her the sky lobby."
'Wow. I finally get to meet the Katie Matlin' I think to myself, happy that Adam's going to introduce me at last. I was almost to the point of believing he was making her up. Almost. I probably would believe it a hundred percent if I didn't find her bra thrown askew in the bathroom one morning.
"Yeah man, that'd be great. My meeting doesn't start until eleven so come around nine okay?" I say.
"We might come a little earlier than that just to sight see and all but nice. See you then."
"Bye Loser!" I exclaim jokingly as I hang up the phone. Leaning back in my chair I let out a sigh. Things were finally going good. They could only go uphill from here...Right?
XxxX .
I fear that all I have done is awakened a sleeping giant
and filled him with a terrible resolve.
-Admiral Yamamoto
XxxX.
Adam Torres. The nicest of guys on the face of the earth- no lie.
In my darkest moments I could always count on him to stand by me, be my best friend.
I owe him my life several times over. After the death of my girlfriend Julia when I was fifteen, he was my rock.
No matter what I did, what I said, or how I tried to push him away he would always come back.
He's a dork. He reads way too many comic books, and plays video games every weekend. But he's my best friend.
He always will be.
XxxX.
"Thousands of lives were suddenly ended by evil, despicable acts of terror. The pictures of airplanes flying into buildings, fires burning, huge structures collapsing, have filled us with disbelief, terrible sadness and a quiet, unyielding anger.
-George W. Bush
XxxX.
I don't believe in coincidence. I never have and I never will. But something about this feels strange. It's eight forty-something in the morning, and I'm in the south side elevator with Clare Edwards. If I didn't know any better I would say that someone had set this up. Either that or divine intervention, cue the twilight zone music.
I'm in the midst of deep thought when suddenly she speaks-"You again," her voice has a hint of humor in it as though she were thinking the same thing as me a few moments before.
"Me again," I chuckled, "So what brings you to the elevator this morning ?" I ask, completely forgetting that she's never told me her last name. Or her first name. Oh hell I sound like a stalker now, great, just perfect Eli. Girls love the creepy, overbearing stalker guys.
Much to my embarrassment she raises her eyebrows at my slip, but doesn't say anything.
"Well," she says loftily before continuing, "I'm pretty sure I could ask you the same thing," she laughs.
"Well I don't know about you but I'm going to get my caffeine fix for the hour" I say semi-joking. You'd be surprised at how much coffee a guy can drink in an hour. No wonder I'm losing it. It's probably a side effect of the caffeine. Or I'm really just crazy. Hopefully the latter.
"Well I'm on my way to star bucks so I guess we think alike," she grins.
"Well then I might as well, accompany you on this trip," I say cheekily, blushing slightly. Why am I blushing? What the freak Goldsworthy.
I look over and she's grinning at me. She doesn't say anything but she's smiling. I smile back at her, and for a split second as the elevator doors begin to open all seems right with the world.
It's the split second all hell breaks loose.
XxxX
As the representatives of the people we are here to declare that our resolve has not been weakened by these horrific and cowardly acts.
-Senate Majority Leader Tom Daschle
XxxX.
September the eleventh started out like any other day. It had the potential to be like any other day. It could have been normal, a day almost exactly like all the others before it.
Did anyone think that the day was unlike the day before it? No.
It was a day filled with promise, full of potential. The sky was blue, kids were at school, and people were hard at work providing for their families.
But that day wouldn't be like any other day.
No.
September the Eleventh held a much different fate than any other day in American history.
Unbeknownst to any of us, it would become a day of pure and utter horror, destruction, and tragedy.
XxxX.
"The planes were hijacked, the buildings fell, and thousands of lives were lost nearly a thousand miles from here. But the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon were an attack on the heart of America ..."-Tom Harkin
XxxX.
It's the split second all hell breaks loose.
The noise. It's force against wind blowing miles an hour way too fast. It's unbearable. It's a collision, its madness, its agony to your ears.
It's time standing still. It's an explosion, and the force pushes us against each other and into the wall of the elevator. Metal is screeching and the world is shaking around us.
It's happening at a rapid pace but my mind slows down to take in the confusion further.
The elevator is shaking, and I can see Clare gripping onto the walls as the tiny space shakes around us. The lights flicker, and the elevator door is barely ajar. We can hear people yelling and some screams.. Oh God the screams, we hear something collapse somewhere on top of us, and we're holding onto each other, trying to keep a grip on what's happening.
We can hear the shatter of glass, and it sounds like a train burst through the building, a sudden explosion almost sends us toppling over, the screams they grow louder as the building seems to sway to the side.
And then it's over.
I clutch my chest trying to slow down my breaths and I look at Clare. We're looking at each other and our eyes are mirroring everything we're feeling inside, the fear, and the confusion. I open my mouth to speak, but words are failing me. But she looks at me and no words are needed, because we know exactly what we're thinking.
"What just happened?"
XxxX.
A few months ago, and again this week, bin Laden publicly vowed to publicly wage a terrorist war against America , saying, and I quote, "We do not differentiate between those dressed in military uniforms and civilians. They're all targets." Their mission is murder, and their history is bloody.
-then President Bill Clinton
XxxX.
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting
different results…
Is that why I can't make myself forget? Because I try, and I try but I just can't forget what happened that day.
A part of me wants to forget, oh God, to get to sounds out of my head, to erase every image ingrained in my mind..
Would it really be better to forget everything that happened?
I won't ever forget.
I still have the nightmares, dreams where I relive every moment.
They tell me I should be grateful that my life was spared.
Are they forgetting about the thousands of others who died?
Because I can't.
I know I should be jolly and merry and full of fortune cookie insight and all that bull because I'm a 'survivor' and all, but I'm not.
I'm angry, and I'm scared. Because that day started out like any other morning, and then there were planes crashing, and buildings falling.
One minute I'm eating breakfast in the apartment I share with my best friend in the world, and the next there's smoke, and fire, and people jumping to their deaths.
And I'm pissed. Because we'll never be the same again.
XxxX.
The cause of the attack was not American foreign policy but an amoral disregard for human life. It is grotesque to suggest that a four-year-old girl, making her first and only flight in an airplane, should somehow bear responsibility for the actions of a government for whom she was never allowed the chance to grow up and vote either for or against.
-Menzies Campbell, British Liberal Democrat foreign affairs spokesman
XxxX.
Minutes have passed. Maybe even hours. Time isn't exactly a crucial factor in my head at the moment.
Throngs of people are descending down the staircases, and we're yelling and screaming but none of them seem to be able to hear us.
"Oh God," she says, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," She's pacing back in forth, making use of what little space we have in the elevator, and hell I have no clue what to do. There's no handbook for how to calm a girl down when you're stick in an elevator after an explosion.
The doors to the elevator are stuck. And I can't get them open. Hell I'm trying, I'm trying with all my might to hold them open but I can't.
I look over at her and she's praying. She's sitting there with her eyes closed praying. I don't even know what to do at this second.
I manage to hold the elevator doors open for longer and longer as their resistance weaken, but its still not long enough for both of us to get out. God I do not want to die like this. I haven't called my parents in weeks, haven't gotten of the couch to go visit my friends, haven't spent enough time with Adam..
Oh Christ. Adam was supposed to meet me,
I can only hope that him and Katie were late, and didn't make it up here. If they didn't- No. Don't think like that. This is all a misunderstanding, and Adam is fine. Him and Katie are fine, everything is fine. This is a dream, a huge misunderstanding and any second now you'll wake up. Wake up Now.. I pinch myself, but nothing changes. Oh God. No. No no no no no. No this isn't happening, this isn't real. Oh God, No.
"Hey," Clare says softly, and I stop panicking long enough to look over at her. Maybe this is her dream. Maybe if she pinches herself she'll wake up and everything will be okay.. Maybe. Most likely not.
"You can hold the door long enough for you to get out," she says.
To say I'm a tad bit befuddled is understatement of the century. "What?"
"I said," she pauses a second before continuing, "You can hold the doors open long enough for you to get out."
I'm losing my mind here. My world is spinning, and I think I'm going to die today so she really just needs to spit out whatever the hell it is that she's trying to tell me here.
"Yeah, I can hold the doors open," I say, "Your point is?" I ask, wanting to know what she's getting at.
"You can get out, and go get help," she states. As though me going is the most obvious solution she's ever heard. "Or at the very least you can make it out." She adds softly, not meeting my horrorstruck gaze.
What the hell?
Is this chick suicidal? A part of me wants to call her crazy, but the selfish part of my brain almost wants to admit she's right- Almost. Then again I don't listen to that part of my brain all that often.
Without even thinking about it I answer, "No. You're stuck with me. I don't know what's going on out there, or how we're making it out of here, but I'm not leaving you. I'm staying with you whether it kills me or not?"
It's silent for a moment as she takes my words in with wide eyes, but she sounds incredulous as she replies, "You'd risk your own life just to stay with me? Even though you might not make it? We don't even know each other!" she exclaims. "I don't even know your name, and you're telling me that I'm stuck with you?"
She seems completely baffled, and I don't know what to do so I do the only thing I think will help. I walk over and give her a hug, and thankfully she doesn't pull away but merely molds into my side, accepting my hug, and in the midst of everything I feel warm.
After standing there in each others embrace for a short while I smirk to myself.
"Eli."
She looks up at me, her eyebrows furred together, and her eyes squinted in confusion.
"You said you didn't even know my name, so… I'm telling you it. I'm Eli."
"She shakes her head, and extends her arm out towards me.
"Clare Edwards nice to meet you Eli," She whispers softly.
"Clare Edwards the pleasure is all mine."
XxxX.
"You don't ask people with knives in their stomachs what would make them happy; happiness is no longer the point. It's all about survival; it's all about whether you pull the knife out and bleed to death or keep it in..."
— Nick Hornby
XxxX.
If you were to ask me today, 'Why exactly did I stay with Clare Edwards?' I wouldn't be able to give you an answer. I don't know why I stayed. I don't know why I did what I did, or why I said what I said, I can't tell you how, or why I was thinking my own thoughts, or breathing the air, all I can tell you is that I stayed.
Did I know her? No.
Did I know anything about her? No.
Was she a friend of mine? A family member perhaps? Maybe a casual office acquaintance?
No, No, and No.
Now before that day I had never spoken to her, but she needed me, and I needed her. We needed to stay together, and take care of each other, or else we wouldn't ever make it out.
She was stuck with me, and I was stuck with her, and we were staying together… Whether we made it out of that building or not.
XxxX.
"Sometimes the greatest tests of our strength are situations that don't seem so obviously dangerous. Sometimes surviving is the hardest thing of all."
— Richelle Mead
XxxX.
The air is hard to breathe. It's thick, and it feels like wool shoving its way down your throat. It's seeping its way into the elevator, and we're sitting down on the ground trying to breathe as slowly as possible. Clare's head is resting on my shoulder, and while I might normally find this strange, I've been through so much today that I don't even care. She could fall asleep on me at this point and it wouldn't bother me.
It's a few minutes later when we hear another crash, though it's not quite as loud as the first one it's still enough to make Clare grab onto my arm, clutching it tightly in fear, and I look down and she looks terrified. I can't think of myself right now, I just have to take care of her, and everything will be fine.
"Hey , don't worry it's going to be okay, we're going to be fine," I say trying to comfort the clearly shaken girl in my arms.
"You don't know that," she chokes out, "For all we know we could die here." a tear manages to escape her eyes, and I know I have to distract her somehow.
"Don't think about that, just talk to me about something, anything," I say hurriedly.
"Like what?" she sniffles
"Tell me anything about you; since we're stuck here we might as well get to know each other,"
"Well," she hesitates, "Nothing too interesting, I'm from Canada, went to high school at a place called Degrassi, uh, I'm Christian, and I love Chuck Palahniuk?" she says sounding slightly unsure of herself.
"Well, it just so happens that I went to school at Bardell, so we're technically supposed to be sworn enemies, am I right?" I ask to which she lets out a giggle that makes me smile. "And as for the whole you loving Palahniuk thing- you just may be the most awesome girl I've met. Invisible Monsters was amazing, I actually went to a reading of his up in Toronto and it was amazing."
"Really?" she asks incredulously, "I had tickets to go too that reading, but my mom wouldn't let me go," she laughs softly, and I think of what she just said. Imagine if I had met Clare Edwards years before. Would things be different now?
We continue talking for a while, just sitting there talking about anything and everything.
We talk about her parents divorce, and how the affect it had on her faith, my eccentric parents, and how Julia's death affected my teenage years. We're sitting there talking about everything, as though we've known each others for years, her head is resting on my shoulders, as though we were close companions, even lovers, and I know that if I were to die, I would be okay with it.
XxxX.
"The weak die out and the strong will survive, and will live on forever"
— Anne Frank
XxxX.
Chuck Palahniuk asked, "When did the future switch from being a promise to being a threat?"
Where does evil come from? Is it something that's born in someone, is it their fate to be the bad guys? The ones that people look down upon in scorn? Weren't we all at once innocent children? At birth did we not all have the potential to be something good in the world?
Adam used to tell me how evil is something that is created in someone, anyone can become bad. Sometimes the decision is all up to them. And sometimes it's not. Some people have evil trained into their system. The evil is all they know. They still have a heart though."
"That's bull," I had responded. With all the unexplainable evil in the world, I couldn't understand how he thought the bad guys might still have good left in them.
"You just don't understand," he said. "Villains speak honestly, they know real weakness. They've lived it, and they're someone they never wanted to be, never though they could be." After a moment he added, "They're just misunderstood."
"And you're full of crap," I responded. "This is what you get when you have someone who prefers 'The Chinatown Saga' over 'The Goon' , it's madness."
He looked up at me with a weird expression in his eyes, "Maybe one day you'll understand."
"We'll be remembered more for what we destroy than what we create."
Maybe the destruction of good in people is what leads to evil. But why the evil acts happened, how someone was evil enough to plan that- I guess we'll just never know.
XxxX.
You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'
Eleanor Roosevelt
XxxX.
We're not talking anymore. The air is thick, and even though we're both lying down on the ground of the elevator, the air hurts. Breathing hurts, everything is dizzy, and spinning, and everything hurts, and Dear Lord, Dear God I'm pretty sure we're going to die here like this. These morbid thoughts are getting more and more redundant, but they're true. Me and Clare are going to die. We're going to die here, hand in hand, lying next to each other as though we were life long lovers. But we're not, and for some reason it pains me that we'll never have that opportunity.
Suddenly she sits up. "Did you hear that?" she asks.
"Hear what?"
"I thought I heard people.."
Oh boy. "Yeah uh, it's probably just the smoke getting to you." I say to which she merely rolls her eyes.
"I may be inhaling enough smoke to make me seem like a lung cancer candidate but I'm pretty sure I heard people. I'm not crazy yet Eli."
"I'm not saying that you're crazy I'm just saying-
"Is there anybody here?" a voice calls out.
We look at each other wide eyed before we stand up and start yelling.
"We're in here!"
She looks at me, and we're grinning from ear to ear, we're getting help. We're still getting out of here together.
XxxX.
Where there is no struggle, there is no strength.
Oprah Winfrey
XxxX.
They were firefighters.
They used a crowbar to break us out of the elevator.
They set us free.
"Terrorists have attacked the World Trade Center" one of them told us, apparently planes were hijacked.
And I just couldn't believe it. It couldn't be real. Even as they were explaining what was going on, my mind barely registered what they were saying, because it couldn't be true. None of it, any of it. Terrible things like that just can't happen in real life/ They told us that they didn't know how much longer it would still be standing and Clare started to cry, I couldn't do anything so I just held her, I held her in my arms , and I cried to. Because what they were saying couldn't be real. Because stuff like that just doesn't happen. 'Oh but it does' they told me. 'It's happening right now, get yourselves out of here' they said. And we went; we went down eighty nine flights of stairs to our freedom, to a new day, to opportunities and life.
And they continued on up, to their deaths.
And so we went.
We held on to each other down each flight of stairs.
Our hands intertwined as we ran.
A comforting hug, in areas where the smoke drifted through the doors, and made us remember what we were so desperately trying to ignore. Trying but failing desperately.
A comforting glance here.
A lingering kiss on the cheek there.
I believe it was in one of those many moments that I realized that I needed Clare Edwards. I needed to take care of her. I needed her to be safe and happy. I promised myself right there and then that once this was over, if it were ever over, that I would be her constant. I would stay with her.
XxxX.
Silence is a source of great strength.
Lao Tzu
XxxX.
Breathing hard she leaned against the wall of the stair case. "Let's just.. rest a second. okay"
"Sure thing," I reply sitting down on the steps leaning my head back, and uttering a deep sigh. I feel a pair of eyes on me and turn my head to see Clare gazing at me, a soft expression in her eyes.
"What?" I ask self consciously, it's not every day that a beautiful girl looks at you like that, actually I don't think I've ever seen anybody look at someone the way she's looking at me, and it's making me nervous as hell.
"Nothing," she says blushing softly, and though she looks exhausted from running down all those flights of stairs I can't help but admire just how beautiful she is. "I just don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough, for staying with me."
The sincerity in her voice catches me off guard, and I'm unsure how to respond. The warmth in her gaze is making me feel light, and I tell her the only thing I'm sure of, "Well I wasn't going to leave you alone, we're together in this." and I smile before getting up and extending my arm out to her, "Come on, let's keep going. We're going to make it out of here."
She sends me a heart felt smile before taking my hand in hers. "Yeah, we are. Together."