Okay, this one isn't about columbine, but I felt that I had to write it…

CHS

September 11, 2001

My alarm clock rang and the early-morning sunlight flooded the crowed apartment. My weak eyes tiredly eased open and focused in on the small, red, numbers on the clock. I suddenly jolted upwards, frantically pulling off my bed sheets. I twisted my body, and before taking a single step, nose-dived onto the cold, hard floor. My ankle had gotten wrapped up in the sheets! I leaned up against my World Trade Center treasure box and untwisted the fabric from my ankle.

After a rushed shower, I got dressed and made my way into my cramp, kitchen-for-one. I grabbed a half-eaten granola bar from yesterday's breakfast and hurried out the door. When I stepped outside, an eerie feeling crept over me. As I looked up into the sky, I noticed a large plane circling low around the Trade Center area.

As I rushed through the busy New York streets, avoiding the passerby salesmen, I ran up to a pulled over taxi cab and tapped on the tinted window. It rolled down about a quarter of the way, revealing a middle-aged woman, with short, curly, maroon colored hair.

"Can I help you sugar?" she coughed.

"I need to get to Tower one."

"Hop in the back," she said rolling up the window. I took hold of the little black handle and pulled open the yellow door and stepping inside the cab. As she took off, I looked down at my watch and back up to find the city blurring past me. When she pulled up to the building she called out, "$3.50, sweetheart."

I pulled out my wallet and searched for some spare change.

She blew a loose curl away from her eyes and said, "Don't worry, miss, it's on me."

"Oh, thank you so much, ma'am!" I called as I hopped out of the cab and into the building.

"Brittany! It's about time you showed up!" laughed my close friend and co-worker, Michelle.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I laughed. We walked up to the elevator and she pressed the 'up' button. About half way up she asked me, "Britt, by any chance did you see a plane circling the complex this morning?"

"Yes, I did; but I figured they were landing."

"I suppose that's reasonable, but let me tell you that I'm worried sick!"

"Why?" I asked her, holding back my own worries on the situation.

"You know my father was killed in a plane crash!"

I sighed, "I know, Michelle… But nothing's going to happen."

As the elevator "dinged" and the doors opened, we stepped out and walked over to our side-by-side offices. The second I sat down I looked out the giant windows.

"Oh…My…God…" I said stretching out each word into a sentence.

"Oh my God! I choked out again.