My 9/11

Chapter 1

Nine Eleven took everything away from me. It took my family down into the smoke, and sent me to L.A. It sent my friends to other homes too, it took away my boyfriend and anything I'd ever cared about.

Nine Eleven sent me here, to L.A, to my aunt and uncle, to live as though nothing happened. I hide the real reason I now live her, I hide the fact that my aunt and uncle are terrified I'm crazy, I hide who I really like buy covering it up by pretending I love Jackson.

I'm not good; I'm terrible. I let them die. I should've gone with them that morning, gone with them to the Twin Towers, and maybe I wouldn't be suffering like I am right now.

I sit in my room, in the middle of the floor, sobbing like I've done so long before. They're gone, and they ain't coming back. I wish the others knew this is my life, not the happy one people see at school. My parents are dead, my brothers too, the only people who know are myself and my aunt and uncle. Even Nathan doesn't know.

Six months since we got back. Today is Nine Eleven. Eight years since the tragedy. Why isn't it getting easier to forget? Why can't I make the pain lessen?

I remember their bodies, bloodied and broken, being wheeled into the hospital, words unspoken. I hade tried to rush to them, terrified they were gone, but no, its too late. They were dead.

The images have never left my mind. I can't make them. They're implanted there forever. No one can erase them. I never want anyone to. It reminds me of humanity, how cruel it can be, and that that's why I'm here. It keeps me from going completely insane.

I rock on my heels. I wish someone knew. I wish someone would tell me what to do. I can't tell Nathan, he's just to protective and would take it personally that I haven't told him for so long. Daley would freak out. Taylor has no brain. Lex would think rationally, but he's an eleven year old kid now! He doesn't need my burdens. I don't know Jory and Ian well. Abbey would go crazy trying to help me. Jackson would worry every second if I told him.

That leaves the one person I think can help me. I pull out a paper and pen, writing down my troubles, seal the letter in an envelope, and rush out of the house, down the block, tyring to be quick, two streets voer, and seven houses down, and stop.

I drop the letter in Eric's mailbox and rush home.

________________________________________________________________________

Later that night I receive a phone call.

"Mel?"

"Eric?"

"I'm so sorry."

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HMM? Should it be a one-shot or should it go on? R&R please.