Ok, hey guys. I know I'm more known for happy stories, but not to day. This will be a sad short story about 9/11. For those of you who have never heard of 9/11, just in case, was the largest attack on the USA. Thousands died, after the terrorist group al-Qaeda hijacked four planes, ran two into the World Trade Center also called the Twin Towers, one into the Pentangon, the last one people retook the plane after the terrorists killed the pilots, with no one to fly it it crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. This was a huge shock to the whole world, but to know one more than the citizens of the USA, this encouraged the War on Terror to really begin.
It was a beautiful sunny September day, the sky was clear, it was warm. It was 67 degrees, America thought it was going to be a great day, they would never be so wrong. America was busy that Tuesday morning, it was a week day after all, but perhaps no city was as busy New York City that day. As people hurried to get to work no one new that a secret operation was going on in four different planes. Men, very evil men had killed the pilots of four planes. No one new it yet, but disaster was just around the corner. 8:46 am a loud boom is heard all over the city. One of the citizens, a firefighter, was Alfred F. Jones. After the noise Alfred turned his head to see the World Trade Center burning. He ran to his get his gear on. He hopped on a truck and got their as soon as he could. A few minutes later, just as they arrived another plane hit the other tower. Alfred was shocked, it was clear now it wasn't an accident. He immediately ran in and help who ever he could. After a while it became clear that the people on the higher floors weren't going to make it, but still he tried his best. After bringing another woman to an ambulance he was hit by a piece of falling metal. He cried out in pain, it had ripped right though his fire suit and left a long gash all across his arm. He ran up to a makeshift station set up about a block away from the towers. As the medic check out his arm a loud rumbling noise came from the towers. Fearing the worst Alfred turn to see what it was. To his horror the first building has just collapsed. He couldn't stop watching. A few seconds later the second tower went with it. A cloud of dust flew though the city. Alfred ran up to check for survivors. He found several dead bodies under the rubble. He dropped to his knees, America was a heroic country, this doesn't happen to heroes. He sat there, weeping for the lost, for the dead, for the country. He gradually stood up, as he did he saw a group of other firefighters trying to put up the American flag. He walked up and joined them. After they set the flag up Alfred looked around. He saw complete stranger being more friendly to one another than some friends are. Although it was a terrible event, Alfred couldn't but help think it brought out the best in people.