He could still feel the pain, eating at him from inside as he looked around at everyone sitting there, and laughing, and talking over the morning announcements so not one word could get through. The students surrounding him, bickering lightly over their weekend plans even as the day came to a slow, excruciating end and inched closer to the one day a year he could never do anything. The teacher, trying to speak over their loud voices and get their attention so he could speak to them on American History, their last class of the day.
It was Friday, September 10, 2010. The announcements came on, and weren't heard, and the Pledge was announced but no one stood at first.
He felt his stomach eating at him, trying to make him sicker than he already felt. These were his people, kids in his schools, ignoring his Pledge. He didn't know why it hurt so much – half of the classrooms in the country probably did this. The Pledge, which had once stood for something magnificent, and still did to him, was dulled with time. It didn't have that same sharp glory it had once before.
No one stood as the loudspeaker rang through the talking, no one stopped talking, "And now for the Pledge of Allegiance."
There was a slight pause, where one girl stood up and turned to the flag, and everyone slowly stopped talking. He watched her and the soft glint in her eyes as she placed her right hand over her heart, mouth curving down ever so slightly, left hand curling into a fist and migrating to rest in the small of her back. In that pause, she bowed her head slightly to the flag, "I pledge allegiance to the flag… of the United States of America…"
A few others hesitantly stood up and joined in her soft, powerful voice, "…and to the republic, for which it stands…"
Even more joined, their voices swelling into one unified voice, "…one nation, under God…"
"Individual…" almost all of the class was pledging now. The teacher had joined and all of their heads were bowed toward the flag. Alfred raised his hand to his heart, feeling some of the eating pain ebb, and a weak smile lighted his face.
"With Liberty and Justice for all." He finished, his voice carrying around the room as everyone turned to him, and the first girl who pledged nodding with a sad smile. She carefully tore something out of her notebook, moving toward the trash can that sat next to where he lingered, waiting to be introduced. When she stood beside him, she slipped the folded piece of paper into his hand, eyes meeting his briefly before she quickly returned to her seat.
He walked forward, slipping the paper into his jacket, and nodded to the teacher as he was introduced. When he finally sat down again, after talking for forty minutes and answering respectful questions about what happened that day, he pulled out the paper and unfolded it, reading over the lightly curving letters.
This was a place of pain, of pain and a sense of a still-healing wound. Outreaching fingers came, and paused, and stopped short; burning tongues licked at the encroaching hands and a furry ash-gray snow showered everyone. The deep growling of a feral animal came from the straining beams, and people screamed. These were the things they found here.
A wounded animal; but the solidarity of the pack. Bloodshed, terror, devastation; but the determination to push through. A freshly opened wound; but the healing of time.
It may have happened a moment ago, or it may have been an eternity. The wound may have healed over, or it may still sting with salty tears falling on it. The memory may have already disappeared from everyone's mind, but it will never be gone from our history.
Pain.
Betrayal.
Forever leaving a scar.
A reminder of the strength we've shown.
Remember 9/11/01
His voice caught in his throat and he read the small note at the bottom, Some of us haven't forgotten.
AN: Here's a salute to this great country I live in. We haven't forgotton our past.