September 11, 2001

Some things are beyond words. Beyond comprehension. Beyond forgiveness.

Why? Why? Dear Lord in heaven… why?

I don't understand it. I can't understand it.

This morning while I was job-searching, I heard the loudest, most terrible sound I've ever heard in my entire life. It started with a low rumble, like thunder or an earthquake. And then… sirens. Hundreds of sirens coming from every direction. I was in an interview, but I didn't even stop to think. I just ran out the door. The man who had been interviewing me didn't even try to stop me. He was running too. We all were. All of New York was heading in the same direction. Until we neared the financial district of Manhattan and met thousands of people running the opposite direction. There was smoke everywhere… I couldn't even see. The police were pushing us back, keeping us away from whatever it was. Then we saw a plane flying overhead, low to the ground, and the screaming that was everywhere got louder and louder. There was another crash, more smoke, more sirens. Fire trucks, ambulances, police vehicles of every kind, more than I thought was in the state of New York were surrounding the area. The crowd kept getting pushed back and I moved along with it. I was so scared… everyone was freaking out… no one knew what was going on. I saw for just one moment a red and blue figure, just a blur barely visible in the smoke, flying over the crowds, towards the disaster scene as fast as he could.

People around me were crying out that it was a terrorist attack… Armageddon… the end of the world… that we were all going to die. I was rooted to the spot. I stood there on the street with hundreds… thousands of others for what felt like hours, just watching that terrible smoke in the distance and listening to the explosions, the sirens, the screaming and the crying.

Watched the news tonight, trying to figure out what's going on. There were four attacks today. Passenger planes, taken over by terrorists. Two hit both of the twin towers at the World Trade Center in New York City, one more hit the Pentagon in Washington D.C., and another hit the ground somewhere in Pennsylvania. It was believed to be heading toward the Capitol building in D.C. where our entire Congress was in session.

Dear God, have mercy on our country tonight! So many are dead and dying, so many hurt and in terrible pain, so many breaking their hearts over the loss of loved ones!

September 12, 2001

Harry called me early this morning. Said that Peter never came home last night. He's afraid that he somehow was caught in the action and could have gotten hurt or maybe even killed! Neither of us have any idea how to find him. It's evening now and still no word from him! I'm terribly afraid… If anything happened to him… I'd just die. Dear Lord, wherever he is, protect him!

We went out to see how close we could get to the disaster area, to see if we could find out more of what is going on. The entire area is on lockdown by emergency workers. Most of the people were moved out last night and the hospitals are overflowing. The newspapers are full to bursting with the stories of heroes… just ordinary men and women who risked everything to help, to save lives. And Spider-Man has been there too, ever since it happened and all through the night. He was there still today when we tried, along with thousands of others, to approach the area. Moving among the thousands of firefighters, policemen, EMS, and any other kind of first responder you can imagine. For a few minutes, Harry and I were able to get close enough to see the rescue work going on. We could see Spider-Man lifting huge steel beams and webbing huge masses of rubble out of the way as the emergency workers rushed in. He kept disappearing into the dust and rubble and then reappearing again, his suit torn and blood-stained. Just let J. Jonah see him now.

They were pulling dead bodies from the rubble and, dear God! It was awful. I could hardly watch. And yet I wanted to help so bad. We found a soup kitchen close to the disaster area that had been set up for the workers and survivors. For the rest of the day, Harry and I worked there, passing out thousands of boxed meals and water bottles and filling coffee cups. Spider-Man himself came in at one point, just to ask for water. I wanted to say something… but I didn't. What can be said?

September 13, 2001

Thank God, Peter's alright! He found Harry and me at the soup kitchen. I've never seen anyone look so completely exhausted. He was practically falling over, so covered in soot and ash that we could barely recognize him. His face was all black and blue, and there was even a terrible gash in his forehead. He said he had been close to the site when it happened and went to see what he could do to help. He's been helping ever since. Just wanted to let us know he was okay. He stopped only long enough to eat and then left again. We tried to convince him to go home and get some sleep. I don't know if he did or not.

September 18, 2001

I've been too busy in the past week to write anything. And too much has happened to even attempt writing. The final death count for that awful nightmare is 2,996. I've been working at the soup kitchen all week long. Harry has joined me most days. We've barely seen Peter at all, all week long. He's a hero too, just like the countless others who've been giving their all to help in this horrible crisis.

Wish I could do more. I'm so tired that I'm not even tired anymore. It's the weirdest feeling. It's not just the serving of meals, but trying to comfort those who come in weeping, or to get help for those who come in bleeding. It's letting the workers know, when they come in so exhausted they can barely move, that you're here for them, that you're praying for them, and that you're thankful for them. We… all of us… New Yorkers… Americans… human beings… need to stand together to weather through this storm. More now than ever before. It's a time of putting differences aside and reaching out to our fellow sufferers.

It's going to take months to recover from this disaster. And forever to heal. Our country has been wounded in a way I can't begin to understand. But I'm so terribly thankful that all those I love are safe. God has blessed me. And my heart aches terribly for those who have lost so much. God be with them. God be with us all.

September 20, 2001

I probably sound like a crazy fangirl when I say this, but there's something pretty amazing about seeing Spider-Man up close every day, at least one or two times a day. He comes in for meals and always sits in the darkest corner he can find, like he's trying to keep away from everyone. When he eats, he just pulls his mask up halfway and no one's ever yet had a single clue as to who he is. Sometimes people try to bother him, but someone else always makes them leave. He looks so incredibly tired, I'm surprised he's holding up. He hasn't told me so, but I can tell he's hurting over the fact that so many lives were lost… and there wasn't really anything he could have done about it. I feel… sorry for him. Whoever he is, he's still just human. Albeit an incredible human. The other day he was sitting there by himself with his head down and I just went over to him and gave him a hug. He looked like he could use it. For one moment, he held on tight to me, like he didn't want me to let go. Something about him is so… familiar…

September 25, 2001

Harry took me out for dinner tonight. We really, really needed a break after everything that's happened in the past several days. It felt so good to get cleaned up. I've been covered in soot and ash nonstop since I've started work at the soup kitchen. We tried to get Peter toWe didn't go to a fancy place this time, just a regular restaurant filled with regular people, all with sad and hollow eyes. It's been a terrible time. I'm just thankful that horrid goblin hasn't shown up at all. Wouldn't be surprised to hear he had a hand in this disaster, somehow.

November 5, 2001

Things have started to calm down again, slowly but surely. There is still daily clean up at the site of Ground Zero. That's what they're calling it now… the site where the twin towers fell. It's mostly work that regular people can't do now, just the moving of huge piles of rubble.

I wanted to keep helping, but I need money or I can't pay my rent. I got a job just yesterday, at a little coffee shop just a few blocks from my apartment. It's not much, but it's a better atmosphere than the last place I worked. I hope and pray that life will start returning to normal. But a new sort of normal, I guess. I'm afraid we will never completely recover from this.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a writer in possession of a writing project must be in want of reviews. Please let me know what you think! I'd love reviews/thoughts/critique... they help me write! Also, thank you so much to those who followed/favorited this story, hope you're enjoying!

This chapter was kind of hard to write, hope it turned out. I just realized that 9/11 happened during the making of the original Spider-Man film and decided that Spidey deserved a 9/11 fic. This story won't all be diary, btw. I plan to bring Peter into it soon. And one of the most famous Spider-Man villains... one that didn't make it into the original Raimi trilogy.

Also, disclaimer, the first line of this chapter was taken from Marvel comics' tribute to 9/11.