Title: Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?

Rating: T

Disclaimer: If I owned One Tree Hill, they would be saving a lot of money by cutting James' wardrobe ;) Needless to say, I don't. *collective sigh*

Spoilers/Warnings: N/A

Pairings: N/A

Summary: A collection of scenes of where the core five of OTH might have been when "the world stopped turning." If the lyrics don't show you what it's about, it is about September 11, 2001. In my story, they are supposed to be in the seventh grade or thereabouts.

Song: "Where Were You When The World Stopped Turning?" –Alan Jackson

Author's Notes: This was just an idea that popped into my head. I would have saved it for the anniversary or something, but I was kind of excited about this one and really went through an emotional rollercoaster while writing it. Also, I try to use the best possible grammar and punctuation in my stories, so if I make a mistake, please don't freak out at me. Thanks and I hope you enjoy! (Oh yeah, and because I love shamelessly advertising, check out my other fics.) :) OH YEAH I ALMOST FORGOT. Review please ;)

September 11, 2001- 7:00 a.m.

It was any other morning. Lucas Scott was going through his daily morning routine. Bathroom, clothes, breakfast, school. It was always the same, never straying. His mother was reading the paper in the kitchen.

"Morning, Luke," she said over her morning coffee. "Don't forget, you are going home with Skills today because you have basketball practice at six."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Mom, I know, you tell me that every Tuesday."

"Well would you rather be stuck at home and have Coach Stein yell at you tomorrow afternoon?" she asked rhetorically. "Now get going, you'll be late."

Lucas laughed and grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter, heading out the door.

"Hey, dude, where's my hug and kiss?" she asked, walking over to him.

He rolled his eyes—a new Lucas signature look—and gave her a half-hearted hug and kiss on the cheek. When Karen tried to hold on longer, he groaned. "Mom, I'm almost thirteen," he whined.

Karen smiled and pulled away. "You'll still always be my baby," she reminded him before practically pushing him out the door. She watched as he walked down the driveway. It was any other morning.

~*~

It was any other morning—not that typical meant much in the Scott household. Nathan's mornings were always the same, so to speak. If you call sameness having the same chaos each morning.

"Nathan, get your ass down here!" his dad called up the stairs. "You get your ride now or never!"

Nathan Scott opened his eyes and rolled out of bed, pulling on a random T-shirt and basketball shorts, his "I don't really give a crap" look he had adopted for junior high. He plucked a baseball cap off of his rack and put it on, letting it sit askew atop his head as he jogged down the stairs.

"You're really going out in public like that?" Dan scoffed, straightening his tie and smoothing his perfectly coiffed hair, looking every bit of the car salesman he was trying to be.

"Come off it, Dad," Nathan said with a roll of his eyes. "You driving me or not?"

Dan sighed as he watched Nathan stroll casually out the door. It really was any other morning.

~*~

It was any other morning. . . ow! Peyton awoke to a throbbing headache and a stirring in her stomach that would be quite unfortunate to either her sheets or carpet if she couldn't make it to her bathroom in time. After a few rounds of a nice "cleansing," as her mother would have said, she hobbled back into her bedroom and picked up the phone.

"Brooke?" she said hoarsely. "I'm sick. Don't bother coming by to pick me up for school. Okay. See you later." She hung up the phone and crawled back into her bed. She could have called Genevieve, the au pair her father had hired to stay nights with Peyton while he was away, but she wouldn't have been much help. She did have a day job, as she was always quick to remind Peyton when she needed something extra from her.

As she only did when she was sick, Peyton reached for the remote for her rarely used television. She flipped it on to whatever channel was playing already, not caring what was on. She closed her eyes and drifted off back to sleep. It was any other morning, give or take a few Advil.

~*~

It was any other morning until her cell phone ringing awakened Brooke. "Who is calling at this ungodly hour?" she muttered to herself, fumbling for her phone. "Hullo?" she grumbled. "Oh, hey P. Sawyer. Yeah, yeah, okay. Bye," she said, barely listening. She closed her phone and went back to sleep until her maid, Josephina, came in to wake her.

"Miz Davis, it is almost time for school," she said gently.

"Okay, okay!" she exclaimed, throwing back her covers. "Tell my mother I need Jeffery to take me to the mall after school," she ordered, pulling on an orange spaghetti-strapped empire-waist top and a pair of hip-hugging satin shorts that were definitely not dress code appropriate. Her phone beeped, signifying a text message.

1 New Message From: P. Sawyer: I figured u weren't really listening b4. I am sick, don't pick me up. C u l8r.

"Forget it!" she said to herself, running down the stairs. "Mom, I'm leaving!" she yelled. Brooke slipped on her sunglasses and walked out to the driveway, where her driver Jeffery was waiting in her car. "Jeff, to Peyton's," she said, sliding into the passenger seat. It was any other Brooke Davis morning.

~*~

It was any other morning. Haley walked down the hall to Lucas' locker. She was there before him, not much of a surprise. Haley tried to be out of the house each day before six a.m., when the rest of her extremely dysfunctional family would start the day. Most days she would walk downtown and stop for coffee before heading to school for an early start. Some would call her a nerd, but she preferred the term "ambitious."

She loved the acoustics of an empty hallway. She would hum and sing as she walked down the hall, making a squeaking sound with her sneakers on the waxed floor.

"I ain't missin' you at all. . . since you've been gone. . ." She sang one of her favorite songs, "Missing You" by John Waites, an octave or so higher than it was recorded. She saw a movement down the hall and shut up immediately, a blush creeping up her neck.

"Hey, Hales," she heard. It was Lucas. "Having a nice concert today?"

"Oh, shut up," she called to him, walking toward him. "Funny, I didn't catch you on SportsCenter this morning."

Lucas rolled his eyes and greeted his friend with a hug. It was any other morning.