Young Writers Society

Chapter Two
9:02
“Everyone out of the building!” Larry shouted.
No-one moved.
“NOW!”
People started screaming. The whole office was a mess. People were scrambling out of their desks, trying not to mess up anything in their cubicles. As if it really mattered because they knew deep inside their souls that they weren’t coming back. They just didn’t want to admit it to themselves.
“Single file line!” he barked as if everyone was in elementary school.
I half expected him to tell everyone to put on finger on their lips, and then the other arm hold two fingers in the air. Just like fifth grade. Wow. I’m surprised I remember doing that.
“What’s going on?”
“What’s happening?”
“Why do we have to leave?”
“This better be important because you made me lose my solitaire match.”
These were the main questions that were asked as we all rushed out of the one small door to our section of the business. Well. The last one was from Jenny so it doesn’t count.
Right as we entered the hallway, the whole building shook. Shrieks from the fire alarm mingled in to the ones from us people. Now everyone was crying. Even me. I can’t even remember the last time I had cried before that. I think it was when Mary and I had first argued about having kids. Everyone was praying.
As everyone started to settle down, Larry finally started to explain what was happening.
“A hijacked plane just hit us. We, as in the U.S government, believe that it was taken over by some al Qaeda followers that got on disguised as regular passengers. There were more than one plane’s in on this plan, but the one that I’m talking about is the one that just hit us How in the world do they know this already? Wasn‘t everything a surprise? How does the government know already, and why was Larry informed of this information?. I need everyone to stay calm and not to panic. We cannot escape through the bottom of the building as it is on fire, and so is the top so the way we are going to esc-“
“So how are we going to escape?’ interrupted Jenny, “Will we survive? Will the bad guys get off the plane and come find us and kill us? Are we going to die?”
“No. We are not going to die. And if you kept on listening, you would hear how we are going to get out of this mess. Now. We are just going to wait and some government officials will come and pick us up and everyone is going to be ok. Also the bad guys can’t get off the plane. Everyone on the plane died.” explained Larry.
“Thank God!” cried Jenny with a sigh of relief.
I thought about Mary. I thought about if I would ever see her again. I thought about if I was going to survive. I thought about anything and everything. I thought about how just this morning, my coffee was a little bit more bitter, how my shoes fit a little tighter, how my razor was a little bit sharper. I thought about I think there’s just a little too much repetition with ‘I thought about…‘ Try switching a few words around like ‘I thought about Mary, and if I would ever see her again. Would I survive? I pondered how just this morning, my coffee was a little bit more bitter, my shoes fit a little tighter, and my razor was a little bit sharper. From the moment I woke up, there had been signs everywhere telling me that today was going to be interesting. So far, it was. However it was still only morning. Will I live to see the end of the day?‘ Well that was a bad example but you get the drift. how I had the hunch today was going to be interesting. So far, it was. But it was only the morning and there was still more day to come. But will I make it to the end of the day?
Larry turned on the news to get more information on the matter at hand.
“Not even thirty minutes ago, four planes were hijacked by what we believe to be terrorists. One of them unfortunately struck the World Trade Center killing everyone inside the plane. We believe that this was a suicide mission but are not completely sure,” blared the newscaster.
The building shook violently.
“The Second Twin Tower is beginning to fall. Hopefully rescue will be there soon!”
Panic spread through the office buildinglike wildfire. Faster than a rumor around middle school I would only use one analogy, either the ‘like wildfire‘ or ‘faster than a rumor around middle school‘. Personally, I really liked the middle school one. . As if we weren’t already panicked enough, the newscast saying that rescue wasn’t here yet made the whole place one hot mess.
9:32
On top of the screaming of the employees came the sound of a helicopter.
“A helicopter has now arrived in the area. They should start pulling people out of the building A.S.A.P!”
Everyone let out a sigh of relief so long; it was as if they had been holding it for hours. They probably wereI would omit this because obviously no one can hold their breath for hours. . The helicopter was everyone’s deus ex machina. People started praising the Lord instead of cursing him for what he had brought upon him. If only they knew… if only I knew. Everyone was hugging each other and laughing it off as if nothing had happened. As if the worst was over. As if the whole thing was over. But it sadly wasn’t. Although the event would all be over in a few hours, it would never be over as long as people remembered it. Everyone sat. Everyone waited. We all heard and saw other people being rescued, but we just sat and waited. The building shook the whole time.
10:00
We heard a huge bang. The whole building starts crumbling even faster than before. People are screaming. People are jumping from windows. People are going to bed. People are giving up. People are dying.
“It’s just not worth it. I can’t stand the wait anymore! I might as well die right now painlessly, than a slow painful death in a hospital where no one cares about me. Goodbye…”
Right after she said that, Jenny took the leap of faith and stepped out of the window to her painless death. I had the urge to follow.
10:14
I was covered in rubble. I couldn’t hear anymore yelling. Just complete silence. I didn’t know if I had gone deaf or if it was just silent. I thought I was dead. I thought that was what it felt like to die. I was in complete darkness but I was smothered with the smell of smoke and intense heat. Right beforeIeverything went completely black, I heard someone asking if anyone was under the rubble. If anyone needed any help. I couldn’t say anything. I was gone.
I woke up a little while later. I didn’t know how long or even where I was. I didn’t know my name, my age, what I looked like, what my job was, nothing. All I knew was that I was alive. Or was I.
I tried to stand up, but pounds and pounds of debris were smothering me and my body. I gathered all of my strength and pushed up with all of my might. I finally created a hole in the destroyed building and was able to breathe. I forced one hand through the hole, then the other; trying to create a big enough space for my being to fit through. I finally was able to pull myself up out of the ground. As I got onto both my feet, I was extremely wobbly and it took me a few minutes to regain my balance. I couldn’t see anyone or anything around except some caution tape. I walked over to it, stooped down, and crossed under it.
“Hello?” I shouted, hoping to get an answer.
Silence.
“Hello?!” I tried again, confident that someone was there.
No one replied.
I continued on my way across the office grounds with no clue as to where I was. I scratched my head, trying to think what I should try next. It sure helps that I was stuck on the grounds of a recently collapsed building, having no clue where I was, what my name was, why I was there. I was just…there. I walked over to the crosswalk and pressed the button to cross. As I waited, I glanced back and forth, having the feeling someone was following or watching me. I shrugged it off as nothing as I walked across the temporarily stopped traffic. I was covered in ash and soot from head to toe. I didn’t care.
I walked aimlessly around town for hours, trying to get ahold a hold of myself. Get my bearings straight. I never did.
HONK HONK!
A car full of people passed by and waved at me screaming the name ‘John.’ Who was this John anyways? I confusedly walked away, pondering this for a while. it seems extremely weird that if these people knew John, and they saw him covered in ash and soot and debris, they would stop the car and see what was wrong with him. Instead they just drive on by.
I finally found a pedestrian and asked them what had happened.
“Well you see sir; a plane full of terrorists hit the World Trade Center about four or five days ago. The whole place is covered in caution tape, but they should be putting up gates today. I don’t know why because I don’t know anyone who would even WANT to go and see that mess. Too depressing.” again, no one seems to act like it’s strange that John’s covered in rubble, probably sporting several injuries too. I don’t know why he isn’t limping or anything, it seems odd that he wouldn’t have broken a thing from falling several stories and being crushed by pounds of building.
Also, if I was the pedestrian, I would think it was very strange that this man had no idea what happened here. I mean, when you think about it, everyone in the nation knew what had happened by the end of the day, most of us probably heard about it within the hour. So my first response would’ve been something like ‘Do you not have a TV? By the way, why are you covered in rubble? Are you alright? Maybe I should take you to a hospital.’
I thanked him and walked away. I kept thinking for a few minutes and finally had an epiphany. Nine hundred and four. That was my apartment number.
I raced downtown, trying to remember where my apartment was. I took a left at Fifth Street taking me to sixth. I ran down for what seemed like a few blocks and ended up on tenth. I walked to catch my breath, and saw a familiar building. It was blackish grey and covered in ivy. It looked pretty old but very familiar. It stood out from the rest of the buildings because it was gargantuan.
I took a step inside and found a front desk.
“Is there a room nine hundred an four in this complex?” I asked.
“There sure is hun’,” said the strangely cheery desk clerk, “Just go up three floors, take a left down the hall, then a right. It should be the second on the right side of the hall! Wait a minute… JOHN! You should know where you live silly goose! You’ve been here for two years!” I may be wrong, but I think for security reasons a hotel can’t allow random strangers to just waltz into someone’s apartment. So before she figure out it was John, it probably wouldn’t have been right for her to give him directions.
“Thanks! Oh and yeah. I just randomly forgot you know! Thanks again!” I politely replied.
“No prob’ hun’!” she responded.
I quickly reminded myself to never use that word as it was extremely annoying.
I hurried to the old Victorian stair case and started clomping up the old wooden blocks. With every step I took, my legs grew more and more tired, as I was not used to using them. Well, I had been under rubble and broken down building for five days! With every step I took, my heart pounded one beat faster than before. With every step I took down that hall, I grew one step closer to finding out one more thing about me. With every step I took, I grew that much more excited. With every step I took, I grew even more anxious until I felt my heart would burst. With every step I took, I felt that less dead. Every step I took was one more step to knowing who I was. just like another comment I had, I think you have too much repetition. I get that you are trying to do this for drama, but it didn’t do much for me.
I finally arrived at the peak of the stairs and inspected my surroundings like a spy. I finally remembered that she had said to go down the left hall. It took me a second to remember where my left and right were, but I remembered soon enough. I turned on one heel to the left and continued on my merry way. One step, no comma turned into ten. Ten steps turned into twenty two. This seemed like it took forever even though it was only a minute or so. I finally came to the end of the hall, and turned to my left. Everything was taking their parts in my memories like a puzzle piece. But it was just missing a few pieces. It was very…hazy.
I walked down the hall, reading all of the numbers above the black, gloss finished doors until my eyes landed upon the numbers ‘nine hundred and four’ in just shined gold letters. The door was ajar and there was a mess inside. I walked in to find a small man standing there. But no wife.
“Where’s my wife?” I urgently asked the stranger standing in the middle of my living-room.
“She’s gone.”