Looking out the window that looked down upon the world, I felt as if my body was being dissolved piece by piece. I was not only drained physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. Still, I didn't want to go home. Part of me would always long for New York City, wanting to meld with it and become one with such a great splendor; another section of me would be eternally terrified of New York City, and I knew I would forever have nightmares of being chased down dark alleys, while blood dripped off Dad's face. Either way, I was forever connected.

Next to me in the double seats on the airplane, Case slept, head tipped back and a light snoring coming from his opened mouth. He had to be exhausted. After all, I hadn't let him sleep all night and continued to pound him with numerous questions until Syl came into the room at an hour that shouldn't be legalized on modern clocks, announcing that we would be leaving within two hours so we had better start packing. Surprisingly, she had made no mention of the shared bed between Case and I; I hoped it stayed that way. I couldn't even begin to imagine the horrid embarrassment of confronting Mom with the fact that Case and I had accompanied the same bed.

A couple rows in front of us on the plane, Krit and Syl talked quietly, unnoticed by the typical passengers. They appeared to be just a mere engaged couple, who might have been planning a trip back to the "in-laws" when returning in Seattle. How blind the innocent were. Once you smash someone's life, they will be forever suspicious and doubting of the truth. It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter whom, you can only kill innocence once before it dies completely.

From my window seat view, I could no longer see the earth, but white clouds swooshed around the plane, separating and dividing so that we could pass through them. With nothing interesting to look at, I moved my attention elsewhere.

Case had offered me his collection of CDs earlier, and only now did I accept them. Shifting through the numerous titles of modern day rock, pop, and even some mixed classical, I could only find one that I recognized. Although I remembered the picture on the cover of the case, I couldn't pinpoint which song I was looking for. Annoyed slightly that my memory was deserting me so easily, I plugged the CD into the player and listened.

Slowly, the CD whirled, flashing its colors inside the radical player, and music began. The minute I heard the sound, I knew what I was listening to. "And I don't want the world to see me/'Cause I don't think that they'd understand/When everything's made to be broken/I just want you to know who I am." God, it was Max's music from the camping experience that seemed like eons ago.

I remembered Case's haunting words when he had told me that when everything broke, the world would know who I was. Unconsciously, I shivered as a trickle moved down my spine. I swear he and Max had a fortune ball that they were just looking in, predicting my future. Briefly, with amused sarcasm, I wondered how much I could pay them to let me have that looking globe.

I continued to listen to some more songs, and, just as I was taking off the headphones, Case yawned and stretched, cracking his knuckles as he did so.

"Morning," I smiled, setting the player back in Case's bag.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"'Bout a half an hour."

"Not too bad," he chuckled, "although, more sleep would be especially nice."

"Perhaps I could just sleep my way through this trip. Not like there's anything else to do."

Case paused as he watched me attempt to roll over and curl up into a ball, ready for some snoozin'. "I'll tell you a story."

"You? Clammy Case? C'mon…"

He arched his eyebrow at the name, perplexed, but figured it would be better not to push it. "Yeah, I can."

"Sure, then, start talking."

"My dad told me this story, and that's why I really jumped to go to NYC. He was about five or six, I don't remember the exact age he said, but that's not all that relevant anyhow. This is a true story, mind you.

"It started out as a normal day, one that would be forgotten as quickly as it had come. Just a typical Tuesday, no more, no less. Suddenly, in one instant, that Tuesday was put into the history books.

"Out of the sky they came with their passenger jets, full of innocent victims, the terrorists ready to kill and ruin the United States. The first jet of the two, slammed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center in a violent explosion of smoke and fire. By the time the next jet had hit, only minutes later, the entire world stood in rapture.

"Only about three hundred miles away, another airplane crushed the Pentagon, obliterating one partial side of the five-sided building. Later, yet another plane hit in Pennsylvania, which reportedly was rumored to be heading for the White House."

"I had heard something about this in history class, but…this…" I mumbled, amazed with Case's story.

"For days, the people of America were in blind panic, worrying about everything and anything while newspaper blared and televisions screamed, with no way of stopping what inevitable: War. That Tuesday became known as September 11, 2001, a day that would live forever in infamy."

"What happened after the attacks? Did they go to war? Who won? You can't leave it there," I whispered. "The history books never explained…"

He turned to me, his expression placid, but not sad or angry. "People died for a country. People are still dying and will forever continue to do so. But, the important truth of the matter, the only truth I can tell you is that history happened after that day, Alanza. History, and that's all that is important."