Think about the chance I never had.
I... I can't believe it. The devestation, the heartache, the terror. How could this happen? Why the hell did this happen to us?
I was awake. So many people on the west coast were asleep when it happened, but I wasn't. I was awake. I had school. I had a school I hated to go to because my only real friend was always sick so I was alone and made fun of most of the time. I was miserable there. I despised my teachers, the people, the place. I was in an environment where I could openly discuss and learn about God but I was ridiculed for it, so I was quiet and I got mean and I stayed miserable. I complained daily. I don't want to wear that uniform. I hate that place. I remember because it was that uniform I was putting on that day. I had my skirt on, and my knee high socks half on when I was dragged into my parent's room. Watch the news. It's unbelievable.
It was. Why was that happening? How is that possible? It didn't hit me at all. I cried, but I didn't understand why. People were dying, hundreds of thousands, right? HOW COULD THAT HAPPEN?!
I went to school. I complained. I sat in the class with those bastards. They made fun of the situation. I remember that. I don't remember if I joined in, but I remember them. How could they do that?
I, alive and well, had the audacity to complain. I still do. They died. They died. Stopped living. Some jumped. Some suffocated. Some were crushed, burned, DEAD! They went to work in the morning, had to sit in New York traffic, maybe spill their morning coffee and end up late, only to ask if that day could get any worse, and they were destroyed. Their lives, the lives of their children, spouses, parents, friends, family... forever broken. And I complain about what? Ouch your second hand smoke is annoying? Don't sit on me I feel like you are crushing me?! I HAVEN'T BEEN CRUSHED! I haven't been asphyxiated from being covered and surrounded by nothing but smoke. I'm perfectly fine. I'm better thatn fine. My life, honestly, is fantastic. I have a wonderful boyfriend, amazing friends, a family that loves me... I can walk to the store; I can find parking at my awesome apartment; I have something to laugh about; I don't have to worry, I'm taken care of; I can talk; I can laugh; I can walk; I can breathe; I can live. It's not fair.
Whenever I'm afraid of something bad happening, I bargain with God. If you just let me have this, I'll do whatever you want. You can do this to me, or this or that. On that day, there are literally hundreds of thousands that would have given their lives to stop what had happened, and many fewer that did. I truly admire that. I don't know that I'm one of those people, but I wish I was.
Tonight, I searched for videos. I wanted actual footage. Boy did I get it. I saw the towers get crashed into. I saw them collapse. I saw the pentagon... not that I didn't see it six years ago. But did I really see it then? It broke my heart I'm sure, but it had the power to do so again.
Actually, what really got me was a call from a man named Kevin Cosgrove. He was on the 105th floor of the South Tower. I listened. I watched the building he was in burn. The man couldn't breathe. He couldn't see, the flames were so thick. He assured his wife he was okay. He was not okay. He stayed on the phone with the 911 operator for over 4 minutes. He went through the stages of grief. He could not believe it. He was beyond angry. He yelled at her for being in an air conditioned room and having the audacity to tell him they were doing the best they could. I won't lie. I'd have done the same thing. I would have freaked out too. He asked her to send anyone, people from New Jersy, anyone that could help him. He was so sad. I was so sad for him. I am so sad for him.
Did I say Kevin Cosgrove went through the 5 stages of grief? I lied. Until the end, he told the world he was too young to die. He wasn't ready yet. And then... that heart-breaking moment when his tower collapsed under him... That was the worst sound I've ever heard. He screamed for the last time. Cried out for help, for a savior. He was crushed. He isn't alive. He's GONE because some douchebags decided they hated America and wanted to hit us good. People have said not to give them the satisfaction of knowing they got to us. We banded together, they didn't win. But they did. They accomplished their goal. People, innocent people who did nothing wrong, people like Kevin who were just at work.... they had their lives taken away forever. For.ev.er.
It's not fair. I hate this. I'm astonished; socked; angry sad; hurt. But I won't accept this. I won't accept it because people like Kevin Cosgrove didn't accept it. It's not okay.
I was awake. So many people on the west coast were asleep when it happened, but I wasn't. I was awake. I had school. I had a school I hated to go to because my only real friend was always sick so I was alone and made fun of most of the time. I was miserable there. I despised my teachers, the people, the place. I was in an environment where I could openly discuss and learn about God but I was ridiculed for it, so I was quiet and I got mean and I stayed miserable. I complained daily. I don't want to wear that uniform. I hate that place. I remember because it was that uniform I was putting on that day. I had my skirt on, and my knee high socks half on when I was dragged into my parent's room. Watch the news. It's unbelievable.
It was. Why was that happening? How is that possible? It didn't hit me at all. I cried, but I didn't understand why. People were dying, hundreds of thousands, right? HOW COULD THAT HAPPEN?!
I went to school. I complained. I sat in the class with those bastards. They made fun of the situation. I remember that. I don't remember if I joined in, but I remember them. How could they do that?
I, alive and well, had the audacity to complain. I still do. They died. They died. Stopped living. Some jumped. Some suffocated. Some were crushed, burned, DEAD! They went to work in the morning, had to sit in New York traffic, maybe spill their morning coffee and end up late, only to ask if that day could get any worse, and they were destroyed. Their lives, the lives of their children, spouses, parents, friends, family... forever broken. And I complain about what? Ouch your second hand smoke is annoying? Don't sit on me I feel like you are crushing me?! I HAVEN'T BEEN CRUSHED! I haven't been asphyxiated from being covered and surrounded by nothing but smoke. I'm perfectly fine. I'm better thatn fine. My life, honestly, is fantastic. I have a wonderful boyfriend, amazing friends, a family that loves me... I can walk to the store; I can find parking at my awesome apartment; I have something to laugh about; I don't have to worry, I'm taken care of; I can talk; I can laugh; I can walk; I can breathe; I can live. It's not fair.
Whenever I'm afraid of something bad happening, I bargain with God. If you just let me have this, I'll do whatever you want. You can do this to me, or this or that. On that day, there are literally hundreds of thousands that would have given their lives to stop what had happened, and many fewer that did. I truly admire that. I don't know that I'm one of those people, but I wish I was.
Tonight, I searched for videos. I wanted actual footage. Boy did I get it. I saw the towers get crashed into. I saw them collapse. I saw the pentagon... not that I didn't see it six years ago. But did I really see it then? It broke my heart I'm sure, but it had the power to do so again.
Actually, what really got me was a call from a man named Kevin Cosgrove. He was on the 105th floor of the South Tower. I listened. I watched the building he was in burn. The man couldn't breathe. He couldn't see, the flames were so thick. He assured his wife he was okay. He was not okay. He stayed on the phone with the 911 operator for over 4 minutes. He went through the stages of grief. He could not believe it. He was beyond angry. He yelled at her for being in an air conditioned room and having the audacity to tell him they were doing the best they could. I won't lie. I'd have done the same thing. I would have freaked out too. He asked her to send anyone, people from New Jersy, anyone that could help him. He was so sad. I was so sad for him. I am so sad for him.
Did I say Kevin Cosgrove went through the 5 stages of grief? I lied. Until the end, he told the world he was too young to die. He wasn't ready yet. And then... that heart-breaking moment when his tower collapsed under him... That was the worst sound I've ever heard. He screamed for the last time. Cried out for help, for a savior. He was crushed. He isn't alive. He's GONE because some douchebags decided they hated America and wanted to hit us good. People have said not to give them the satisfaction of knowing they got to us. We banded together, they didn't win. But they did. They accomplished their goal. People, innocent people who did nothing wrong, people like Kevin who were just at work.... they had their lives taken away forever. For.ev.er.
It's not fair. I hate this. I'm astonished; socked; angry sad; hurt. But I won't accept this. I won't accept it because people like Kevin Cosgrove didn't accept it. It's not okay.