"Do it." they whispered, the sharp, breathy words echoed by the others. "Do it, do it,"
I remember biting my lip and looking around my classroom. Crystal was on the other side of the room talking with Teacher, showing off her spelling homework. My teeth tore off a bit of skin and nibbled on it in indecision as I looked back at the tower of blocks. It was a bad habit of mine; sometimes I would taste blood from doing it so much. Sometimes I still do.
"Do it… dooo it," they said, begging and ordering at the same time.
I remember wondering if I should… Crystal had spent a long time trying to get the blocks to balance on each other just right. And the tower looked so nice, like the palace from Aladdin. I wished I could take a picture. Maybe if I had a picture of it, I could do it.
I remember feeling guilty as I looked around. Guilty because I knew it was wrong and it would hurt Crystal's feelings, guilty because I knew I was going to do it anyways; guilty because I didn't like Crystal, and wouldn't care too much at first if she was sad, even though I should. She would sometimes speak in Spanish to her friends while pointing to me and giggling, and she had pulled my hair a lot when I first came to school in the middle of the year last year. Why shouldn't I have hated her?
I remember resolving my conflict quickly, locking out the guilt as I grinned to my classmates. I had no idea how big a role the towers would play later in my life.
"Should I?" I asked, reaching for a block in the middle. Their faces turned eager.
"Yes! Yes! Do it!" they chanted quietly. I stole a glance at Teacher again.
"Are you guys sure?" I asked, moving my hand closer. One of the boys groaned and threw himself backwards, landing flat on his back, arms flung out in despair.
I looked around the room. The rest of my classmates were looking down at their games, but their eyes kept peeking out to see if I had pulled it yet. Crystal was the only one unaware of what was about to happen.
I heaved a dramatic sigh and reached to pull the block, reciting the words that were my excuse for everything at that age:
"All right, but you guys made me-"
In the instant before the palace collapsed I felt the guilt swarm me-- take me by surprise. I remember the bricks tumbled slowly through the air, drifting to the ground like leaves. Gravity vanished, and my classmates ran through the air like they were running through Jello. Sound disappeared, and while I knew my classmates were shouting, I didn't hear them. I knew Teacher called my name, but I didn't hear her. All I could do was watch as Crystal's tower of blocks slowly collapsed to the ground.
Crystal shoved me away, breaking my trance. No sooner had I hit the floor than Teacher grabbed my arm and dragged me back up.
"Go outside!"
I looked at my shoes as the door slammed behind me, cutting off Crystal’s wails. I shivered. My jacket was still in the classroom. I sat down outside the door, curling up against the cool September morning. There were only a few kids on the playground, the rest were inside their classrooms enjoying free time before school started. I sighed. Crystal was going to really hate me now, I thought. We had hated each other before, ever since I became the new kid at school a year ago, but this was big hate now. This was war. I sighed and climbed on the railing of the ramp that led to the door. Dangling my feet, I remember not wanting to go back inside. If I went back, everyone would stare at me, and I would have to look at Crystal.
For crying out loud, they were just towers. They weren’t even real towers, they were just bits of wood. I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but for that moment, it felt so good to finally get one over her. To finally do something to make Crystal upset -- until she started crying. I felt like throwing up. Teacher was going to tell my parents. Then I was going to be in really big trouble. Again.
The bell rang, announcing the end of breakfast. A moment later, Teacher came and opened the door, holding it open for me. I hesitated a moment, then sucked it up. I went back inside and acted as if nothing had happened. I ignored the whispers and giggles paired with glances my way. I felt horrible, like I was going to be sick at any moment. I caught Crystal glaring at me with tear streaks down her face before she jerked her head away to face Teacher again. I wanted to crawl inside my desk and hide forever and ever, until the end of the school year. Everything would be all better then.
Cool, invisible hands rested on my back and sunk through my skin as I watched our towers fall again and again on the television. A plane, a crash, a rumble, a fire, cut to the fall, the tumble of metal blocks, cut to the destruction, and loop. My fingers rattled, shaking the bones inside, my heart reduced to a lump of soggy flesh, giving a quick thump-thump to remind me of its existence. I felt each surge of blood throb in my neck and push against my skin, trying to cut through with every new pound. My throat squeezed tight and closed, I couldn't swallow, could only push air into my lungs and let my body take care of its release. I swallowed anyway, a desperate attempt to reason, to regain control of my body if I couldn't get a grasp on my world.
Our towers fell, rubble and dust and blood, the plane taking out that same center block I had removed all those years ago. Where was Crystal, I wonder? Had we perhaps pulled Osama's hair one-too-many times? Where was Teacher? Clearly, the peace talks between us and him just as ineffective as those forced upon Crystal and I. Words could do nothing against hate. Where were my classmates...?
There. I saw them on the TV, through the neighbor's window, heard them on the news, felt their raw humanity sizzle and zap the air as they pushed blood from their own bodies into that of another. There, I saw them jumping from the towers, there, I saw them torn and bloody on the ground, there, in the stretcher, there, in the shop. There, across the ocean, the ones who sent the planes, the ones who egged them on, they, the ones who destroyed our towers.
We were at war.
.
