Traffic screamed along the surrounding labyrinth of roads in the morning rush to work as I walked along the sidewalk. It was a bright fall day, sunlight streaming through the sparse patches of sky not already occupied by skyscrapers. Many friends of mine hate the city, hate working here, but I live for it. You know that old saying, ‘we are the sum of our experiences’? Well, the city is my experience, and I would swap it for no other.
Pushing through the glass doors at the entry to the building, I felt a tap on my left shoulder. Having long since wised up to this trick, I turned to my right, to be met by Sarah’s grinning face.
‘Good morning honey!’
‘Well it is actually. But that can’t be what you’re smiling about, surely.’ Her bright hazel eyes spurred me on as I tried to guess.
‘Abby! I’m shocked at you! Shocked!’
‘It’s Richard, isn’t it? You finally managed to coerce him into going out on a date with you, right?’
She gasped, indignant. ‘Not only was I completely lacking in the coercion department, I wasn’t even the one to make the first move! He sent me a text last night, asking me out to dinner with him at the Windows on the World tomorrow night!’
Realising this conversation was suddenly going to become an extremely in depth, detailed discussion as to the choice of Sarah’s outfit and other important minutiae, I switched off my walkman. Dream a Little Dream of Me died in my ears – it was my favourite song.
‘So what will you wear then my love struck friend?’
She ignored the jibe. ‘Well I was considering my black cocktail dress, you know, the one with the halter neck, but do you think that might be too glam? I also considered those brown dressy pants I bought the other week, you know, the ones I bought in Calvin Klein when…’
Folded paper gently brushed against the palm of my hand and I closed my fingers around it instinctively. Everything in my immediate vicinity faded into obscurity, as I looked into Jack’s magnificent green eyes. He winked cheekily and moved away.
‘You two! So when are you meeting up with him again, hmmm?’
Snatched from my thoughts, I slipped the note into my pocket. I’ll have to make an excuse to visit the bathroom soon.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sarah. What was it you were saying?’ Our stilettos clicked on the tiles as we made our way across the lobby to the elevator.
‘Now who’s the one blushing like a lovesick dork? You know exactly what I’m talking about!’
I waved my hand at her regally, knowing that if I could resume the conversation of clothing choice, Sarah would forget about Jack, his note, and the fact I didn’t want to talk about it.
She sighed, exasperated. ‘I was talking about wearing those brown dress pants on Friday, because then I can wear those naughty panties I bought on the weekend.’
‘Oh yes.’ Then as the clutch slid into place, my brain changed gears. ‘Did I just hear correctly?’
She smiled mischievously. ‘I knew you weren’t listening. Wipe that drool off of your face too.’
I rolled my eyes at her as I pressed the ‘Up’ button for the elevator and settled myself for a long wait. Working on the 103rd floor was nauseating for some, but I loved the view. However the elevator ride was a totally different story.
‘We should walk one day, you know, climb the stairs.’
Sarah laughed. ‘So how has it been since your last visit to the head doctor Abby? That’s nuts and you know it. Remember that time we had the conference on 79, the one where Peter wouldn’t stop staring down your top?’
I sighed. ‘How could I forget?’
She grinned and went on. ‘Well you had this brainwave that we would take the stairs up there. And you dragged me along too, made a special effort to come down to 66 to meet me? My legs didn’t stop shaking for three hours, dear, and that was only 13 floors.’
‘Okay, okay, point taken. Although I have to say, if you went to the gym as often as you say you do, I don’t think there would have been a problem.’ The elevator finally pinged open and we all filed in.
She poked her tongue out at me childishly. ‘Yes Miss Know-It-All. And its funny, I don’t particularly remember you holding up any better than me, actually.’ She groaned as the elevator began its studious ascent. ‘This elevator will be my demise one day you know. Why do I even work here, I hate having to use this thing every day. Twice a day! And if I want to get something decent for lunch, four times a day!’
‘So go to the gym. And bring lunch from home, like I do.’ She rolled her eyes at me and I grinned at her. ‘Face it Sassy, you love me and can’t bear to be without me for even a nanosecond of your life.’
‘Yeh, Quail that must be it. My life is so pointless and unfulfilled I follow you into crappy elevators like this one.’
I hated it when she called me Quail. To me it implied fatness, short legs, and an extreme lack of ability to do anything for myself.
‘I am not an edible flightless bird.’
‘And I am not a prostitute who couldn’t name herself Candy because that was already taken.’
I struggled not to laugh, and tried to resume the conversation of clothing detail.
‘Don’t wear those brown pants, you’ll look square.’
‘Okay, well what about those…’
I lost Sarah on the Skylobby on 48 as I went up to 103. Leaving my bags at my desk, and having put my lunch in the fridge (it was fettuccine cabonara today – yum), I made my long awaited beeline to the bathroom. Sitting on the seat of the toilet, I read Jack’s note.
Faultless performance, not that I expected any less, although I think the consumption of the ravioli could have been a little smoother – perhaps more sharing is in order. Meet me for a training session tonight?
I smiled to myself. Jack was certainly one for feeding me most of his food, and tonight! We would be able to make the dinner together this time, and relax in front of the TV…
Suddenly the toilet was shuddering beneath me, the cubicle doors rattling on their hinges. I heard distant screams, and an awful metallic scraping, roaring…I huddled down beside the toilet, Jack’s note crumpled in my hand as the noise went on and on.
And then all was silent.
Gradually I began to unfold. Aside from being bruised and a little shaken, I was miraculously okay. Slowly, I stood. Despite being a self-confessed agnostic, I murmured a quick prayer. There are some times in your life where your beliefs transcend your gut instincts, and my instincts were making it very clear that something had gone horribly wrong. Leaving the cubicle, I made my way out of the bathroom. One of the sinks had cracked and water was seeping onto the floor. All the mirrors were broken.
I made my way into the corridor, which was completely empty and seemingly undamaged. Wondering whether I was going crazy, I rounded the corner and stopped in my tracks.
The offices were a mess. Computer monitors had fallen off desks and littered the floor along with desk lights, phones and what looked like mountains of paper. People were milling around, some sitting on the floor, others leaning up against walls for support. Some were crying. Some of the windows had smashed in, or were cracked. Nobody seemed to have a clue what was going on.
Beyond the ominous creaking that could still be heard, cell phones were ringing crazily, muffled in their buried state. As I stood and listened to the near overwhelming cacophony, I suddenly picked out my ring tone – Dream a Little Dream of Me. I realised I was standing right near my desk and dived into the mountain of office equipment.
‘Hello?’ My voice was strained and high-pitched – I didn’t sound like me at all.
‘Oh my god, Abby, are you okay?’
It was Sarah. ‘Oh sweetie I don’t know…I don’t know what happened! Are you okay? What’s going on?’
‘Honey, honey, calm down. I’m okay, we’re all fine, we just heard this terrible racket and the room moved, no-one knows what’s going on down here either.’
Picking my way through the mess, I went to stand by the window. Usually the view of the rest of the city calms me, but today it only made me feel uncomfortable.
‘Sweetie stop crying, it’ll be okay, I promise.’
Tears were streaming down my cheeks and onto my blouse – I hadn’t even noticed. I sunk to the floor. What was going on? There was still this god-awful noise going on in the background, I thought I could feel the building sway beneath me but I couldn’t be sure. I felt sick.
‘I’m scared Sarah.’
‘Aw honey, I am too. But you’ve got to be strong okay? Because it will all be okay, you’ll see.’
Listening to Sarah’s weak reassurances, I suddenly realised there was a plane flying over the city.
‘That plane’s flying really low.’
‘Abby, sweetie….oh my god! It’s going to hit….’
The plane collided with the opposite Tower in the midst of a luminous red fireball. What was left of the intact windows was blown in by an unseen force, as I threw my arms over my face in an effort to protect myself. The low metallic rumble suddenly got louder, before decreasing down to the low, ever-present murmur I had heard before.
‘Did you see that?’ Oh god, I’m going to be sick.
‘Yes.’ Sarah’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘Honey, you need to….’
Suddenly the connection was cut – all I could hear was static. It made me all the more aware of the current state of room.
It was completely silent. Standing or sitting, people were staring blankly out the windows at the burning South Tower, cries muted by arms, hands, elbows, shoulders. A slight breeze through the windows turned papers, and brought us the smell of fire and things burning, and the smoke! There was so much smoke…
‘There’s too much smoke.’ The guy crouched a few feet away from me – Peter – turned to look at me, his eyes vacant.
‘There’s too much smoke. There’s too much smoke!’
I pulled myself off the floor, shards of glass falling from my hair and clothing as I walked towards the window to turn to discern the origin of all the smoke.
The city looked relatively normal – as normal as it could from this height, but I couldn’t see any other signs of fire besides the other Tower. Then I looked down.
‘Oh my god.’ There was smoke pouring out of the building, bits of debris falling to the ground below.
Somebody – Peter – grabbed my arm. ‘Be careful, you don’t want to….’
‘Look down.’
‘Abby, I…’
‘Look down!’ It was almost a shriek.
‘Oh god.’ He let go off my arm, face white. I lurched away. I have to get out.
Kicking off my heels, I was suddenly running full speed towards the fire exit, cell still in hand. My sweaty palms slipped over the handle before I got a grip and pushed through.
The stairwell was unbelievably hot, and as I continued downwards, near tripping on every step, the heat increased, and the air grew thick with smoke. It felt like the walls were closing in, panic was rising inside me like a tidal wave…
Then the stairs ended abruptly, disappearing into a pile of rubble. I screamed, sinking to the floor.
‘Abby? Are you okay?’
It was Peter; I didn’t need to look around.
‘Abby…oh god.’
‘We can’t get out.’ Tears streamed down my face as I stared dumbly into the rubble,
vainly hoping that the power of my gaze would cause it to disappear….or something.
Strong hands gripped my shoulders, urging me upright.
‘Come on, let’s go back upstairs, come on…’ How can he be so calm about all this?
Back in the office, Peter sat me down on a rescued chair before turning back to the rest of the room, which was in the same state as before.
‘We’re stuck’. It was only a whisper, but clearly audible to everybody present.
The room was thrown into chaos – people screaming, crying – I saw Jenny Harrison faint and hit her head on a computer monitor. Rachel Jacobs threw up right where she stood. My head was spinning, trying to comprehend the situation. We – I – can’t get out. The buildings on fire, the stairs blocked off, and the elevator won’t work…am I going to die here? How could we possibly be rescued? We couldn’t, its far too high…the low metallic hum echoed in my ears, reverberating around my head, threatening to overwhelm me…
I’m stuck here, how will I die? Will I die from hunger, from thirst…what if the building collapses? What if the fire spreads – will I be burnt to death? What if…my cell sliced through my thoughts.
‘Hello?’
‘Abby!’ It was Sarah. ‘I’ve been so worried…’
‘We’re stuck Sarah, I can’t get out. The line was silent for so long I thought I’d lost it again. ‘Sarah?’
‘Oh Abby.’ I could hear her crying.
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m still in my office Abby…what will you do? How will you get out? Will I ever…’ Static suddenly reclaimed the line, and the cell fell from my hand.
Disarray still dominated the room. Blood was oozing sluggishly from Jenny’s head and she wasn’t moving. Rachel was staring at her blankly, lifeless, while Tom Southgate tried to talk to her. He’s been in love with her for years, but I don’t think she’s ever realised.
Peter was pacing up and down, oblivious to the mess underfoot. Joseph Hoffs was crying, rocking back and forth, cradling himself….I knew how that felt. Ben Roberts – he had always been the quiet office loner – was desperately trying to make a call on his cell. ‘Mum?’ The relief in his voice was clear.
My mother had died after a long battle against cancer was I was nine. My dad never remarried, and after my brother Travis moved away to Quebec when I was 12, Dad and I had clung together for support. My cell’s dial tone rang through my ear.
‘Hello, you’ve reached John Watkins, please leave a message, I’ll call you later.’
‘Dad? Its Abigail…I love you. I’m so sorry…’ I didn’t know what else to say. Dad was a different person after Mum passed, and I couldn’t bear to think of him alone…I hung up the phone.
Wind teased at my hair, drawing me over to the window. In a trance I walked, glass crunching beneath me.
I can’t wait here to die, wait to be burnt, to be crushed, to starve…Bracing myself against the window frame, I looked down, but the smoke was now so think in the air I couldn’t see the ground. Suddenly I knew what I had to do. I needed some control, needed to take control. My hand left the security of the window frame. I was dimly aware of Peter’s voice in the background – it sounded very far away.
‘Abby? Abby? What are you…?’
I pushed the echo of the voice away. My heart was racing and sweat made its way down the side of my face – did I have the courage? Or would I just continue to stand here? The wind picked and pushed at me, bringing to me the words of the song.
Star shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper,
"I love you."
Birds singing in the sycamore tree,
"Dream a little dream of me."
I would never see anybody again, never get drunk with my father, laugh with Sarah, sit up talking with Jack – where was Jack? - I would never have kids. Never get married. Focus. I need courage. Courage. I have courage. Another step forward, the wind tugging me forward, towards the ledge, towards open sky.
Say "nightie-night" and kiss me,
just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be,
Dream a little dream of me
‘Dream a little dream of me…’
. You made me feel for the characters, which is the most important thing, protraying the victims.
