1Many thanks to hellacullen (PTB) for her help when I started this chapter. And many thanks to Mel & Dani (PTB) for their help at the end.

I don't own Twilight.

Flight 175 slammed into the South Tower at 9:03 a.m.

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Chapter 6

Part I

9:00 a.m.

Bella

For some reason, I held my breath on the ride up to my office. I didn't know what to expect when the elevator doors opened. Instead of little butterflies fluttering, I had huge boulders rolling around in my stomach. The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival at my floor. I peeked through the doors as they slowly opened; there were small clusters of people at their desks. Different radios could be heard throughout the floor, the DJ's nervously trying to get any information out. Even the controversial Howard Stern was somber.

I could see Mike and Victoria still huddled in his office, lost in conversation.

Slowly, I made my way out of the elevator, followed by Angela. Her eyes were wide with fear.

"What do we do now?" Angela frowned.

Good question. What do we do?

"I don't know." I paused, trying to get my thoughts straight. I had always been told that knowledge was power, so I decided to first find out everything I could about the situation.

"I think I want to go check CNN to see what's going on."

"Okay. I'll go check in with Mike and Victoria," Angela said with a shaky voice. She seemed relieved to see me taking charge of the situation and was just grateful to do her part.

Even though I was doing my best to project a calm exterior, I felt as if I was falling apart inside. I was in the middle of a living nightmare, the depths of which remained unseen.I hurried to my desk, almost desperate to see what was happening outside.

As I sat down in my chair, the first thing I noticed was my family photo. It sat exactly how I had left it, the difference being that it had melted into the edges of its frame. My hand trembled as I reached over and took it. The photo was a scene of a happy couple holding their newborn daughter. God, they looked so young! Despite the situation, I smiled at the sight of my mom with her 80's hair and flawless skin. My dad had the biggest grin across his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He almost looked like he was sticking out his chest with pride.

My heart skipped a beat as I thought about Charlie. I decided to give him a call as I turned on my computer.

After several attempts to get a line, I became anxious. I dialed his number over and over, again. I kept getting a busy signal.

What if I can't get through? I can only imagine how worried Charlie is now.

After the millionth time, it finally began to ring.

Thank god!

"Hello?" he answered nervously.

"Dad? It's Bella," I whispered into the phone. There really wasn't any reason to be whispering, but it was all I could muster without completely breaking down over the phone.

"Bells!" He shouted. "Did you make it home all right? Your mom said you had left her a voicemail…" His voice trailed off, but not in time to hide his obvious worry.

"Umm…no…I'm still at the office," I admitted, instantly regretting my admission. I knew it would only add to his panic.

"What?" His voice cracked. "But you said…"

"I know, but security made several announcements saying we should stay. I didn't know what else to do," I started crying, no longer able to hold it in. For the first time ever, I wanted to be "daddy's little girl" and have him protect me from the world.

"Calm down, sweetheart," he murmured softly.

Sweetheart? He hadn't called me that in years.

Guilt suddenly washed over me. I had never really gotten to know my dad. I had concentrated more on taking care of Renee while growing up, rather than having a relationship with him. How many times had he asked me to come to Forks and I would make an excuse not to? As a teen, I may have thought of myself as "mature for my age" but in reality, I was just as selfish as the next teen. Hell, the last time I went to Forks was Spring Break of my senior year and that didn't turn out so well. But here we were, a few years later, and I hadn't even thought of him first when everything started this morning.

I was the world's worst daughter, and now it might be too late to do anything about it.

"Bells, I think you should leave. From what I've seen on TV, it doesn't look good. What if something exploded in the other building, causing something to happen to your building?" He said in typical 'dad' fashion.

I didn't reply. I couldn't bring myself to think about it.

"Bells, I d…don't...," He stuttered, "know what I would do if something happens to you."

I decided then that I would take his advice. I knew that, at this point, if anything else were to happen, he would never be able to forgive himself. "Dad, don't worry. I'll leave right now," I assured him as I grabbed the family photo and shoved it in my purse.

I heard him sigh in relief through the phone. "Good. Please be careful and call me as soon as you get home. And I…love you, Isabella."

I started to choke up for I knew saying those words was hard for Charlie.

"I love you too, Dad. Bye."

I placed the phone on the receiver and sighed as I felt my heart rip to pieces.

As soon as I get home, I'm going to make reservations to fly out to see my dad.

I scanned my desk to see if there was anything else I needed to take home when I heard a deafening noise from behind as though there was a missile coming.

My heart stopped.

In a split second, I knew what was about to happen.

Oh, God! Please...

9:02 a.m.

Edward

Do you ever have nightmares where you are running as fast as you can, but you feel like you are going in slow motion?

I raced up the aisle, clambering over the debris of trash and carry-on bags that choked it. The air was filled with the screams and panicked cries of the passengers. The shouted prayers, terror-stricken crying of men and women and the wails of children created a chaos of sound.

The plane was rolling back and forth, and we were low, really low, still going extremely fast. Outside and nearly level with the plane's windows, the skyscrapers of New York went flashing by. I saw the plane's shadow against the tall buildings. It seemed our wings almost clipped the Verizon building as we sped by. How surreal it seemed to see the buildings this close and from this angle.

Fear was in the air, as thick and as tangible as smoke from a bonfire. Even the humans could smell at it this concentration and it added to the general atmosphere of horror and dread.

I passed through the doorway to the first class section. Two dark swarthy men were guarding the cockpit door, having driven all the first class passengers back to the coach section. The plane lurched wildly to the left and they were tossed like discarded dolls against the seats and bulkhead wall. I rushed up to the cockpit door and pulled at the knob. The door started to bow towards me. With my free hand I wedged my fingers into the opening edge and yanked the door from its hinges.

Inside the cockpit, the four remaining hijackers seemed frozen. They all sat motionless except for the pilot as he made corrections to the plane's course. I heard two voices whispering "Allah Akbar" (God is great) again and again.

Outside the front windows of the cockpit, I saw what transfixed them. Directly ahead of us and rushing towards us at incredible speed was the north tower of the World Trade Center. In horror, I watched as the plane's reflection in those windows grew impossibly larger and larger. My last thought before we made impact was that I was too late to save the three year old girl back in Seat 7B.

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