#131 | Saturday, September 22nd 2001
It was any other morning. I woke up, got ready, rushed to school. The only worry I had was being late for 1st period. During the middle of my 1st period class, Sociology, I began to feel sick to my stomach and by the beginning of French II, I was throwing up. My mother came to get me from school around 8:30 or so. She dropped me off at our house and proceeded to go back to work. I hopped on the internet and flipped on the television, to see a second plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center and set, eyes glued in terror, as I watched as another crashed into the Pentagon. It didn't matter that I felt completely nauseous, I couldn't begin to grasp all of these innocent people who had been killed on these hijacked planes or who were trapped in these buildings. One by one, I mentally ran through a list of friends and relatives in New York and Washington or anyone I could have possibly knew who could have been flying that day. I set in constant terror wondering what would be next and who could have done such a horrible thing. I've yet to understand why a group of people felt that they needed to take innocent lives ,as well as their own ,to prove their point or prove anything really. It's all so surreal.
Kara | 16 | West Virginia

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