I Will

I remember that Tuesday, September 11, 2001. I remember my family had returned to our German flat from school. My dad was still at work. My younger brother and I wanted to watch cartoons. My mother turned on CNN instead.

The image that appeared was a burning tower and a second tower to its right unharmed. Roughly ten seconds later, a plane crashed into the second tower. Screaming people could be heard as the plane crashed into the tower. I looked at my mother and her face told my ten-year-old mind this was certainly bad. I remember the towers crumbling to the ground.

I remember that evening dinner was a gloomy one. I fell into a scared sleep that night. The following morning was much of the same. I arrived at school and went to my homeroom. One of the sixth grade teachers came in and explained yesterday's events to the class. Much of the day went by gloomily with my fellow schoolmates and teachers still in shock.

In the days and weeks that followed, I went on numerous rants, thinking of what to do to the terrorists. Under all that ranting and rage was a scared ten-year-old. I was half a world away from a dear friend of mine. I was scared for her safety; but I couldn't do anything in Germany.

September 11, 2001: The day that my peace of mind was taken away.

My family returned to Texas on November 16, 2002. I re-entered school two weeks later. It was a crude welcome home deal. I trudged through the remainder of the school, thankful when it ended.

I went to my church camp in the summer and found people that I could fall back on; people that helped me through the lows of every school year. I always felt bad when I had to go home, away from my safe haven.

Before long, my senior year of high school had arrived. I had built a nice little reputation in my school's sports department as the student trainer. Football season came and went, ending on a sour note. Basketball season wasn't much better.

I go to a Shattered Dreams workshop on March 8, 2009. An anti-drink and drive program to play out before Prom. I met a few new friends at the workshop. I got to know one a bit better over the following week.

Then on March 25, 2009, I was introduced to a freshman. She was very happy and playful. Not too long after that, I started having lunch with my freshman friend, seeing as I had freshman lunch off. For some odd reason, she told me her life story over many lunch periods. I in turn, told her mine.

Graduation came and went. College started sooner than I would have liked. Again, in my second semester we had a little get together. Though this get-together was different I was more anxious than usual. I kept looking around, expecting a gunman to show up and start shooting the place up. I had made it my priority to keep the girls I was hanging out with safe. Because in my mind, I didn't care if I died that day, so long as my female friends were alive.

Thankfully my scenario didn't become a reality. And now ten years after the attacks, I have made a promise to myself that I will not let anyone harm my dear friend or my high school friend I met senior year.

I had enough college hours to transfer to a four-year college, but I didn't transfer. Why? Because I had a feeling that something bad would happen to one of them and I would be hours away from helping them. So I decided to stick around one more year to ensure nothing bad would come to pass.

Can I stop bad from ever happening to them? Sadly, no I can't. But I can make sure that they have a shoulder to use, a friend to talk to. I will help them through any and every difficulty even if it means that I must put my life on hold.

I WILL NOT LET THEM FALL!