September 11, 2001

5:30am

Mrs. Mallory Dawn Smith hit her blaring alarm clock with her fist, shutting it off the same way she had for her entire life. With a groan, the blond-haired brown-eyed women got out of bed and, having to be at work in an hour, started her day. She walked into her black and white tiled bathroom and splashed cold water onto her face to wake her up. She took the black towel off the hook and wiped the water from her face then hed to the kitchen to make herself a bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats for breakfast. She drained the milk from the bowl set it in the sink before going back to her room where the 27-year-old got ready for work. Before she walked out the door her husband of 3 and a half years, who got up slightly later then her, kissed her and went to go check on Jake, their newborn baby boy. Mrs. Smith then went to her car. The well dressed women headed to work for what she thought was another normal day. She would later find out she was horribly wrong.

6:43am

John Thomas Summers woke up to the small alarm clock on the table by his bed blaring. After about a minuet it stopped and he rolled out of bed onto the cold hard wood floors of his small apartment. He stood with a sigh and changed for the day. The black-haired blue-eyed man went to the kitchen/dining room and take 3 bowls of cereal before running out to his piece-of-crap car and heading to his job. The 24-year-old parked in the grass outside of the building and jogged into the firehouse. The male firefighter was greeted by being pelted with wads of paper as he entered.
"What was that for?" John laughed.
"Your early doof." Tim Fields, the chiefs right hand man said.
"And we're preparing you for when you get pelted with rice at the weading." Dan Cummings added. John laughed along with his brothers. Summers was indeed going to propose to his long-term-even-longer-friendship-girlfriend tonight. The firefighter was certan she was 'the one.'

Mallory Smith had been hard at work in the huge Twin Towers in New York City for half-an-hour when the red-haired hazed-eyed Mandy Taylor, her friend in the working world, walked in. Smith smiled and stopped her work momentarily. Mandy worked many floors above her so Mallory didn't get to see her friend too often. The redhead carried two cups that undoubtedly contained coffee. She handed one to her friend who took it happily. The two talked and laughed for a while. Once left Mallory Smith was back to work. Like any other day.

But it wasn't

8:43am

herd screams form the upper floors and knew something was wrong. There was an ear-spiting boom and the entire building shook like crazy. The glass window she sat by exploded, slicing through her skin. The brown eyed women screamed along with ever one else. Smoke filled the building as she stood up, feeling woozy from blood lost and tried to make her way out. People pushed and shoved past her. She noticed some one fell and tried to help them up. Everyone was screaming. Her ears where still numb from the boom ans she was in increasing pain but as she helped the person up she herd parts of screaming convolution. "...Plane..." "...Top floors..gone..." "...crashed into..." mostly people where sobbing or screaming for help. Tears welled in the bottom of her eyes.
Mallory Dawn Smith was scared she wouldn't make it home tonight.

The firehouse was pretty quiet except for the guys talking. The men laughed and joked. Sunndly the sirens blared and the firefighters ran into the engines. John, along with all the other men, put on their equipment as the red metal fire engines blared down the normally busy streets of New York City towards a place they all knew-the Twin Towers. Men rushed in upon arrival. John, who isn't originally part of this team, stained back for the time and helped work the hose. At about 9:03am another plane comes into view. John watches in horror as it turns digitally and slams into the second tower. It was the most depressing thing he had seen in his 24-years of life. The firefighter could hear the heart shattering screams of fear from the people in the building and the plane. At that moment he ran and got the rest of his equipment on. More firefighters roll in and charge into the second tower so Summers runs into the first. The black smoke makes it hard to see as the fighter ran but he was use to it. John ran to where the 99 elevators of this tower started. After trying a few and finding none that worked, Summers changes to the stairs. The further he went up, the thicker the smoke got, the harder it was to see and soon it became harder to breath, even with the gas mask. Soon he found people and started his job.

found it harder to walk with the blood lost. she found a place less people where going and broke off that way. Slowly as the business men and women walked downward the smoke thinned. Still everyone coughed like they'd smoked for years. As Mallory walked she always herd screams, mostly from the people trapped in the upper floors. But sunddly the screams multiplied. It took the beat-up women a minuet to realize the screams where coming from the second tower. She turned just in time to watch a plane crash brutally into the tower. The women felt tears gather in her eyes as the ground shook. desperately hoped that some of the people in the second tower had left after hearing, and seeing this crash. After a while the 27-year-old realized she was alone. Sunddly it felt like the smoke got thicker and filled her lungs, she got weaker. She fell to her knees on the steps, coughing and crying. She knew she wasn't making it out.

John was charging up the stairs when he herd brutal coughing that was close. He followed the horrible sound to a women who was on her knees in a small new-formed puddle of crimson blood, hers no doubt.
"You need to get up!" He yelled. When she didn't the blue-eyed firefighter picked her up and carried her on his shoulders. Knowing she didn't have much time left, he charged down the stairs.
Upon making it outside he sat the women down as close as he could to the groups of doctors and charged back in. As he made it back in he felt the tower shake, throwing him to the ground. The screams got worse and that was the last thing the 24-year-old, blue-eyed black-haired firefighter John Thomas Summers herd as the world crashed in around him.

Mallory was carried out of the building by a firefighter and would hopefully live. She watched as that firefighter ran back into the first tower. And she watched, with her darkened brown eyes, the tower she had been in only moments ago crash down, ending millions of lives in the prosses. Dawn Smith was about to cry out when everything went black.

September 13, 2001

8:44am

woke from a two day coma with a start. She looked around and it took the women a minuet to remember what had happened. When she did the blond-haired brown-eyed 27-year-old broke down into tears. A hand was rested on her back and she looked up to see her husband and Jake. He gave Jake to her and the tiny newborn child make the shocked and partly scared adult smile.

September 16, 2001

9:04am

Mallory and her husband drove up to a firehouse. Mallory, who's whole left side was wrapped in gauze, got out of the car and walked to the door slowly, using her husband for support. had to wait three days until she was released from the hospital and then had wanted to pay her respects to the firefighter who had saved her.
A man answered the door, confused. After explaining her reason to be here Mallory watched the confused look on the mans face turn to one of sorrow. He led the two of them to the firefighters picture after she had described him as best she could. His, along with many others, where placed on a wall. They where all the firefighter that had died on the 11th.
In Loving Memory of John T. Summers. It read on the frame of a young mans picture. Tears gathered in the bottom of her brown eyes. She talked to the picture, crying most of the time. The last thing Mallory Dawn Smith said was "..Thank you for what you did. I will never forget you. Never forget anything. Thank you. Because of you I can take care of my child and continue living. Because of you I will always Remember."

A/N:This was a fictionally short story about a very sad very true event. 9.11. We should always remember what happened that day. Millions died and others risked their lives to try and save them. We should always remember and honor those people, even if you weren't effected personally.

9-11-01
Never Forget