A/N: Eighteen-year-old Lucy lives in New York City with her Uncle Thomas and her older sister Jaime. As she tries to write a book report on the novel To Kill a Mockingbird for her English class, she recalls a time when she was 12-years-old. Lucy's memories soon bring us back to post-9/11, a time of great misery for America, prejudice against certain racial groups, and the hectic world. As Lucy's uncle prepares to defend a young boy who is accused of blowing up a man's diner, she comes to realize the world she lives in, the one she finds so perfect, is far from it. In this story, you'll be taken on journey of prejudice, injustice, love, trust vs. betrayal, and the madness of man, all through the eyes of an innocent child.
Here is her story . . .
*Disclaimer: I don't own anything.*
Stupid Book Project
My own personal experience that compares to that of To Kill a Mockingbird
To Kill a Mockingbird has taught me many things in life, one of them being
The book To Kill a Mockingbird shows that life can bring about many changes
I banged my fist against the table in frustration as I stared at the blank computer screen. A million times I've tried to create an awesome literature paper that I'm sure Ms. Cogan will accept. So far the only thing I've created was two bowls of popcorn, a cup of coffee, and a splitting headache.
Taking another sip of the coffee, I tried typing again, but stopped as I heard a small taping on my window. Leaning over the right, a small bird was just outside my window. Its small beak tapped against the glass as it shook its feathers.
I walked up to it, just looking at it. I didn't want to tap the glass, scared I might scare it away.
It small beady eyes looked up at me. I waved to it, I honestly don't know why. I guess it's the Pocahontas in me. The small bird took one more look at me, and quickly fell away.
I waved good-bye to it. Again, I don't know why. It was so small and cute. What kind of bird was it? It was small, and slivery-gray, with long tail feathers. Oh my God. A mockingbird! It was a mockingbird! A mockingbird at my window, right as I trying to write a stupid report for the book To Kill a Mockingbird. Huh. What are the odds?
Muffled footsteps entered my room. My uncle Thomas joined in me staring out the window.
"I can only imagine what you do at sleepovers," he said.
I playfully slapped his arm. "Ha ha. You're so funny." After another sip of coffee I explained to him the whole mockingbird at my window and book project thing.
He nodded in head in interest. "Perhaps it's a sign."
I gasped sarcastically. "You're right dear uncle!" I fell down to my knees and lifted my arms up. "Oh great ones above, I thank you for bestowing this sign upon me to help me pass English for the semester."
Uncle Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Pass?"
Damn!
I jumped up quickly to my feet and ran to my computer, which was still blank. Groaning, I put my head on the desk.
Uncle Thomas walked over. He put his hand on my chair and leaned toward the screen. "I'd give it an A minus."
I rolled my eyes. "Not really in the mood. It's due in two days and I don't have jack done."
"Well what do you have to do?" Uncle Thomas asked.
Fishing through my backpack, I found the assignment paper with the requirements on it. "According to this," I said. "I have to write a two to three paper about the novel To Kill a Mockingbird and compare about some elements could compare to that of my own life, whether it be the main elements, like prejudice, or just simple things, like growing up like the main characters."
Uncle Thomas took the paper. He read it over a few times. Then he put the paper down and drummed his fingers on the desk.
Finally he snapped his fingers as an idea finally came to him. "I got it! Write about what you went through when you were twelve. You remember it don't you?"
I gave him a look. "Yeah, but I don't really see how that has anything to do with this book. I mean, that was the year a bunch of no good, bastard terrorists smashes into the Twin Towers."
"Languages."
"Hey let's both admit, when talking about a delicate situation like that, foul language is allowed."
Uncle Thomas just sighed and continued. "Well that year I had that big case with the Saleb boy."
Memories, floods, and floods of memories came back to me as I began to recall the madness that occurred with the trail for Admir Saleb.
I nodded. "Yes I remember it all, but again, what's it got to do with me-"
I didn't even have time to finish talking as Uncle Thomas's watch beeped. Showtime.
"I'm sorry Lucy, I have to go down to the office." He kissed me good-bye on the forehead.
"I'll try to help you when I come back, until then, just remember, remember everything you went through that year." And he was out the door.
I slummed in my chair. Hmmm. Remember everything. I closed my eyes trying to see if I could remember precisely. Where to start? I guess I'll start at the beginning, of that day. That day that changes everything . . .
6 years ago . . .
9 Frickin 11, Why Would Someone Do Such a Thing?
I clutched Jaime tight as CBS replayed the footage of a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. We both covered out ears as the screams poured from the building.
Kakali's face was full of horror at the event, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes teary. She clutched at her hijab as bodies fell out of the building. Her mouth was moving, and I heard low mumbling in a language I didn't understand. She was probably saying an Islamic prayer for all the lost souls.
Jaime turned away from the TV as they cut to a clip of hundreds of dead bodies being lined up one after another. I watched as the endless row of the dead traveled down the streets, on and on and on and on and on, until finally I jumped up and squeeze Kakali.
Kakali squeezed me back. She ran my fingers through my shoulder length brown hair.
I looked into her teary eyes with my teary eyes. "Are those people with Allah?" I asked her. I was trying to be like an adult, but the child in me came out instead.
Looking down at me, Kakali nodded. "Yes, Lucy. Allah will welcome them with open arms, with Muhammad at his side." She was trying to be an adult too, but that scared girl in her, the same one that came to this country so fragile and lost five years, was coming out.
Jaime finally grabbed the remote with trembling hands and shut off the TV. Sitting in silence, we all looked at the black TV screen. What we just saw, will never forgotten. Some heartless men hijacked two planes and crashed it into the Twin Towers! Monsters! Soulless creatures! I never witness someone with such a black soul. There were innocent people on those planes. Children! Babies even!
So much anger was getting fueled in me I didn't know what to do with myself. I just buried my face in Kakali's shoulder.
"Where's Uncle Thomas?" Jaime asked.
Kakali sat up straight. "He . . . he went to his office." She didn't say anything after that. None of us did. We all just sat there and waited. For what? For him to come? For him to not? We waited for something. We just weren't sure if it would be good or bad.
Five hours later, Uncle Thomas stepped through the door covered in ash and grey as a phantom. I ran to him so quickly I almost knocked him down when I hugged him. Jaime came to hug him too. He squeezed us both tight.
"Thank God you're both okay," he said as he squeezed us tighter.
Finally we couldn't breathe and so we all let go. I looked into Uncle Thomas's emerald eyes. They tired. And sad. And horrified. Yet, they weren't angry. How?
"You were there?" Jaime asked.
Uncle Thomas took a seat on the couch. As he sunk into the cushions, Kakali brought him a glass of water. He drank the entire glass in just a few gulps. He must've been really thirsty.
After thanking Kakali, Uncle Thomas turned back to us. "Yes I was there. When the first plane crash I rushed out of my office to the towers."
"Why would you go there?" I asked. "Didn't you know it was dangerous?"
He nodded. "Yes I completely knew the danger. But how could I just sit in my luxurious office while thousands where injured and dying?"
"But how could you go when you had two nieces waiting for you at home?" Jaime's eyes started to cloud up with tears. "How could you just leave like that? And now even call to tell us you were okay? Didn't you think about what would happen to us? Didn't you even care!"
She buried her face in her hands as she sobbed right there in front of us. It was quite a show for me, to see her like this. I hadn't seen her cry like this since she was dumped by her first boyfriend.
Uncle Thomas went to Jaime, putting a comforting arm around her. She hugged him and cried into his shoulder. He patted her back softly.
"I know I should've called," he said in a smooth, gentle voice. "And you're right I wasn;t thinking about you guys when I left. I was thinking about the other nieces that were out there. The daughters, the granddaughters, the sisters, the cousins. I was thinking about the other people that were going to be affect, and how I could help them in this great time of need. I sprinted out of my office. The roads were packed so I didn't drive and again I sprinted towards the site. There were thousands, thousands of people there, covered in grey ash. That was actually all you could really see: Grey and scarlet red. I ran, grabbing as many as I could. Then, something hit me on the head. It was an arm. Then something else it me. A shoe. The sky was raining body parts.
'As I looked up at the sky for more body parts, that's when I noticed the other plane coming in. I was completely unprepared for it. It all happened so fast. The plane hit, there was a boom, screams, then more flying body parts. I was moving at an extremely fast pace, helping the people get out of the streets, but there was too many. It seemed less people were leaving than coming away from the building. That's when it hit me that this is what they wanted. Less than there was. They wanted our fear, our dead, and our weakness. Well I sure as hell wasn't just about to give it to them.
'I stayed there another four hours before I left. Even with my help, the help of hundreds, we weren't even halfway done. On my way back, all I could think of was whether you two were alright."
He hugged us again. "And I'm glad you both are."
That night, Jaime and I fell asleep together in her bed. We shared a rosary together and said a Hail Mary for each soul that was lost, all two thousand-seven hundred fifty-two of them. We didn't mind saying all those prayers. Those people deserved it. They all lost or sacrificed their lives because of the evilness of others. In my opinion, they all deserve one hundred Hail Mary's each.
Once I slipped into sleep, I dreamed of the terrorists who caused all this. I saw them, burning slowly and painfully, like the victims. They were screaming as their flesh melting off them and they just wouldn't die quick enough. Then I heard laughing. It wasn't from them. I turned to see if there was anyone behind me. No one was there. Then I realized, the laughing was coming from me. I laughing a cruel, cold laugh as they slowly died.
I awoke sweating and trembling so much it felt like I was on a vibrating bed. Uncle Thomas came to comfort me right away. Jaime hugged and rocked me in her arms as Uncle Thomas sat beside my bed.
"Am I evil for dreaming this Uncle Thomas?" I was deadly scared of what the answer would be, but I asked it anyway.
Uncle Thomas looked at me for a minute. He took my hand and looked deep into my eyes. "We all have evil in us Lucy. But not all of let it consume our souls. It's the weak, only the weak, that need the power of evil to gain strength. But evil is like a drug Lucy. Once you start using it, you cant stop."
