Chapter 1: Aaron Keener

7:14 AM

The alarm goes off by his bed. He still has a bit of a hangover, but how else was he to celebrate landing an internship at Cantor Fitzgerald, on top of one of the most beautiful skyscrapers in the world? He was an excellent worker, and they knew it too. However, being late on the first day on the job was not what 21-year-old Aaron Keener had in mind. He had to get up and in a hurry. His office opened at 9:00 AM, but Aaron had always been an early bird.

And thus the morning routine began; shower, shave, and a big bottle of water to help nurture the still lingering hangover. By 7:38 AM, he was ready to head out the door, a smile on his face and an optimistic attitude. Sure, it sucked that he hadn't gotten a place in New York, and yes, it was hell in the morning to drive from Ridgewood, NJ all the way to New York City, NY; but having just landed the job yesterday, he'd have to embrace the suck for the time being.

Driving along, he switched the radio on to the station based out of the Big Apple.

"Good morning! It's a beautiful Tuesday morning here in Manhattan, and the weather is just perfect. A high of 68 today with a low of 53 tonight. That cold front brought in the bluest sky I've seen in years. Isn't it just perfect Alex?"

"That's right Bridgette. It doesn't get any better than this. The weather makes for a fine early start to fall this year, and it's also the perfect way to kick off the primaries! Don't forget to go out and vote today peop-."

Aaron switched the station to the one tuned on the Today show. Apparently Michael Jordan has decided to return to basketball. Well go figure. Aaron scoffed; athletes were just as bad at making up their minds as his ex-girlfriend was at deciding where she wanted to eat at for dinner. He switched the station again until he found one with just music playing on it.

Aaron knew that Cantor Fitzgerald was going to be a tough job, but he also knew that if being a futures trader was going to be a career opportunity, then it'd just have to be dealt with in the best way possible. Going a little above the speed limit (Who really drives 55 when it seems that everyone else is going 65?), Aaron was able to get to Manhattan by 8:34 AM. He was just 10 blocks or so away from the World Trade Center complex when a taxi pulled out in front of him and slammed into a nearby fire hydrant; it immediately began spewing water. Hitting the brakes, Aaron barely managed to avoid hitting the car.

He put his vehicle in park and got out to check on the other driver. "Excuse me sir, are you alright?" he asked the taxi driver, who had a pained expression on his face. "No, I think I'm having a heart attack," came the winded reply. Pulling out his cellphone, he called 911 and spoke calmly into the phone. "I'm in Tribeca, and this cab driver pulled out in front of me before he crashed into a hydrant. I think he's having a heart attack."

"Okay, we'll be there momentarily. Is he being responsive?"

"Yes, he's still conscious. Just hurry, please."

"We'll be there ASAP sir, just stay with him and make sure he's alright. If he's having a heart attack, the best thing to do for his sake is to stay calm."

"I'll do my best to. Thank you."

After hanging up, Aaron silently cursed under his breath. He was going to be late for his first day of work! This would not set the precedent he had hoped to set! Sighing irritably, he took out his phone again and dialed his boss at Cantor Fitzgerald. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was 8:41 AM. Well, it's not like he planned this today.

"Hey Mr. Jones, it's Aaron Keener, that intern you just hired yesterday. Listen, I'm in Tribeca at the moment and this guy in front of me ran into a fire hydrant, said he was having a heart attack. The street is held up and I'm going to be running a little bit late, but I assure you, I'll be there!"

"That's quite alright Aaron, this is New York after all. These sorts of nuisances occur. Just try to be here before 10:00 AM. Think you can manage that?"

"I'll do one better for you sir, I'll be in before 9:30 AM." Mr. Jones laughed on the other end of the phone.

"That's what I like to hear. You're gonna do great here kid!" And then he hung up.

The ambulance had just pulled up whenever Aaron heard a jet soaring overhead. It sounded way too low that. Oh well, with the clear skies being as they are, the sound just travels a lot better, he reckoned. He turned towards the World Trade Center just in time to see what looked to be a Boeing 747 fly directly into the North Tower, around the top floors area. Not even one second after witnessing it, he heard the boom that followed the massive explosion.

"Oh my God," he said, stunned. Then, chaos and confusion broke out all around him.

Hopping back into his vehicle, he drove as fast as he could to the World Trade Center. What would normally take 5 minutes took 10 instead. Aaron finally parked 2 blocks back, and jogged part of the way there until he got to the base of the complex. Looking up, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Papers, large objects that had to be desks or other office appliances, and burning debris were falling from the North Tower.

Then the fire truck pulled up behind where he was standing, and a strong hand gripped his shoulder from behind, spinning him around. "What are you doing man? You need to get further back from here, it's not safe!" said the firefighter. He then stepped back until he heard a woman scream, followed by a loud and resounding explosion nearby.

No. No that wasn't an explosion. It sounded like God himself throwing an egg as hard as he could onto concrete. Curiosity and horror took over his mind, and he turned just in time to see another object- no, a person who must have fallen from above in the damaged tower- hit the pavement and practically explode, making the same sickening splattering sound he had just heard moments before.

"My God in Heaven," he stated softly, his voice breaking on Heaven. "What the fuck is going on here?" Another firefighter came along and turned him away from the sight, but not before a loud, roaring noise came from directly overhead again- wait, was that another jet?

The loud noise suddenly came to a stop as another jet, this one definitely a passenger jet, crashed into the opposite tower of the World Trade Center, creating a deafening explosion that sent everyone who wasn't already panicking into a wild frenzy. And all the while, over the screams, that sickening noise of people falling could still be heard.

Aaron ran over to the side of the street where a trashcan was and vomited into it. Hangover or not, he felt that he would have thrown up regardless. Debris was once again raining from above, as both towers of the World Trade Center were ablaze, although what was a horizontal impact on his tower was an angled impact on the other tower.

Oh Jesus. His tower. His bosses and coworkers at Cantor Fitzgerald. Hurrying, he took his phone out of his pocket and called his boss, Mr. Jones. After a few rings, it finally picked up on the other end.

"Hello? Can anyone hear me? Who's there?"

"Mr. Jones, it's Aaron Keener, are you alright?"

"What the fuck do you think son? I'm trapped up here and the smoke is really beginning to pour in. I'm having difficulty breathing in here. God it's hot.

"Have you tried the stairs or elevators?"

"They're all out. Whatever it was that hit the building took out the stairs and elevators, a few floors below me. I can't get down, and it seems pointless to head up top. Look kid, I don't know you all that well, but you impressed me enough with the interview yesterday that I trust you to do one last thing for me."

"What is it sir?"

"Tell me wife, Eileen Arnette-Jones, that I love her with all my heart. And that I decided to die on my own terms."

The line then went dead. A few seconds later, Aaron saw a man throw himself out of the 103rd floor, followed by that God-awful sound again. Aaron didn't bother trying to find a garbage can this time around.

Aaron Keener was trying to find someone, anyone, from Cantor Fitzgerald that had made it down alive or had been like him in arriving late before the planes hit the buildings. He hadn't found a single damned one. And then he saw Erica, a beautiful and incredibly attractive brunette. She was the other new intern, who had gotten hired on along with him.

"Erica!" he all but shouted. She turned her head and immediately began to run towards him, almost tackling him with a hug. "Oh God," she started sobbing. "Aaron, I was there. I just had just gotten off at the elevator downstairs to grab coffee for Mr. Jones whenever the first one hit."

"Erica, have you seen anyone else at all from Cantor Fitzgerald?" She shook her head no.

"I haven't seen anyone else. It's just you so far," she spoke through stifled sobs. "I thought it was an accident at first, but then I saw- the people that-"she cut herself off through more sobs; Aaron didn't need her to finish, as he had seen it happen numerous times already that morning. How does one ever unsee such a thing?

"Come on, let's get away from here. There isn't much we can do anyway," he said gently. Pulling her along with him, they left from the World Trade Center, heading back towards Aaron's car. Right as they were about to go around the corner, a noise that could only be that of a building collapsing emanated from the South Tower, which was indeed collapsing. Tightening his grip on Erica's hand, he pulled her with him as they ran towards his car. "RUN!" he tried to shout over the noise.

They got into the car and sped off just as the last part of the South Tower collapsed, causing a massive cloud of dust and asbestos to darken the visibility. He had to stop as he couldn't see anything in front of him. Aside from the sirens, screaming, and Erica's continued sobbing, all that Aaron could hear was his pulse beating in his throat and chest.

If he had not stopped to help the taxi driver with a heart attack, he could've gotten killed this morning. How many people had just died before his very eyes? Hundreds? Thousands? And on top of that, how many of his fellow coworkers, his fellow Americans, had just died? He didn't even want to know. It was too much to bear. All he wanted to do was go back home to Ridgewood, NJ.

So that is what he did. Erica tagged along with him because she said that she did not want to be anywhere near New York City, which is where her apartment was. By the time they were crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, the North Tower had just collapsed, and with it, any sense at all that Aaron Keener was going to try to live a normal life.

Oddly enough, fate would have it that Aaron and Erica would begin dating a few weeks after that; although up until that point, neither of them had even considered interest in the other. All that was there was a strong friendship.

Erica had stayed with Aaron until that Saturday after the attacks. She just didn't want to go back to New York City, and honest to God, he couldn't blame her. She was traumatized by what she had seen. It wasn't just the deaths that Erica had witnessed, like those who jumped to their deaths', it was the unseen deaths. It was those who were still inside the buildings whenever the massive structures came down. She may not have personally seen them die, but she could feel their deaths.

And so could Aaron.

He felt completely and utterly helpless as he saw people die before his very eyes. Had that man not had a heart attack and pull out in front of him when he did, he could have been on the upper floors when the plane hit the first tower. Even now, a few weeks after the attacks, the shock and realization of this still imposed itself upon him. He could have died. He could have died!

It was in this time of sorrow and determination that the two former workers of Cantor-Fitzgerald began to spend more time together. They had both gotten new jobs on Wall Street; it seemed that Aaron would get an earlier chance at becoming a futures trader. As for Erica, she would become a telemarketer for Verizon, just a couple buildings down from Aaron. The two would often spend time together throughout their workdays. He would bring her coffee; she would bring him lunch. It went back and forth like this for awhile before Aaron finally asked Erica the question that had been on his mind for the last few days.

"Hey, I know this is out of the blue, but do you have anything going on this weekend?" he asked.

"No, not really," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

He smiled warmly and said, "I was wanting to take you out on a date."

Her response was exactly as he had predicted; momentary shock transforming into genuine happiness. "Yeah," she said with a smile, "I'd very much like that. Where to, kind sir?"

"I was thinking something classical. Ever been to Carmine's?" he supplied.

So perhaps he had a bit too much wine, and perhaps she had too, but that didn't stop them now. Maybe it was the way she had looked in that perfect red dress, or maybe it was the way that he would genuinely listen to what it was she was telling him when she spoke. After both had finished their meals, followed by dessert, then another bottle of wine, the two had become very infatuated with each other; more than they had been throughout the days leading up to the date.

Him being the gentleman that he was, Aaron waved down a taxi for them both so that he could escort Erica to her apartment in Stuyvesant. They continued to laugh and humor each other in the car ride there, and yes, the wine was taking its hold on the two of them. Arriving at their destination, Aaron got out, opened the door for Erica, and she took his outstretched hand to climb out of the taxi.

Before walking into her apartment, Erica turned around and wrapped Aaron into a big hug; he normally wasn't much for physical contact, and he had neglected to mention that this was his first date since his senior year of high school, but the wine had taken the edge off of both of them, so he gladly returned the hug. Pulling back, Erica said, "I really needed tonight Aaron. Thank you so much for everything. It was perfect."

"The pleasure was mine Erica. I think I needed it just as much as you," was his response. The two of them looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds, and before either knew what was going on, they were kissing each other. It was a soft kiss, a chaste one at that. They both pulled back around the same time, looking back into each other's eyes once again. Aaron had to admit, he had not seen that coming. Nor did he see Erica's hand grab ahold of his head and bring his lips towards hers' after the look they shared.

Aaron awoke with a strange feeling. One, he did not recognize his surroundings. Two, he felt an unfamiliar weight on his chest and further along his body. And three, and perhaps the most unnerving?

He was naked. And apparently, so was Erica.

His memory from the night before had been hazy, but he began to piece everything back together. They went to Carmine's and had dinner together, they drank a little too much, he took her home, they kissed, and oh goodness.

Now he remembered everything.

He looked down to see that it was Erica who was resting her head on his chest, completely pressed up against him. She looked different without all her makeup on; a good different, that is. She was naturally beautiful, and he was not so bad looking himself. People always said that relationships after a disaster were terrible ideas; no one could have imagined the disaster that struck just over a month before, however.

Aaron moved to get out of bed whenever Erica's hold on him gripped slightly tighter than what it had been. "You mind telling me where you're going stranger?" she asked groggily. He chuckled softly, saying, "I was going to use the bathroom and get a shower. You don't mind if I use your shower, do you?" Propping herself up to look at him, she said, "Only if I get to join you." Her tone, though still half-asleep, had a hint of mischief in it.

"Deal," he grinned.

That concludes Chapter 1! I'm still struggling to find out how to do the other parts of this story. I've never tried a story that actually centers around a historical event, and one as horrific and somber as the September 11th attacks are very sensitive to write about. I do apologize for the graphic violence depicted in this chapter, but I felt it necessary; those who witnessed the events that awful day in New York didn't have the sights before them censored, and I felt it to be an injustice to those who had died that day to not tell the story in all of its raw nature, both the good and the bad. Please leave some reviews, I don't mind constructive criticism! Enjoy!