the story of that fateful day in my perspective goes like this,
it was a very good day for me. i was going to the twin towers with my mom to sightsee. we were there for about 3 hours looking out the windows and at the cool stuff inside the towers and going back and forth between them. i told my mother that i needed to go to the restrooms just so i could go see my friend who was also looking around the building with his mom and dad. he was on the next floor down so my mom didn't want me down there but i went down anyway. i was talking to my friend for no more than 5 minutes when the first plane hit. i felt the impact harshly because i was directly below a floor that got hit. i knew instantly that there was no chance of my mother being alive so i began to run and cry not knowing where i was anymore or where i was supposed to go only following the running crowd inside the building. i got out and watched in terror as the building next to the one i was in get hit and fall. the police were already there when i got out so they quickly looked at me and said i was ok to wait by a police car. everything after that was blurry and panicky. you cannot imagine the horror of seeing the building fall and knowing that people were still inside it as it fell. i remember watching some of the people jump as fire spread through the building and they had no choice but to jump or burn to death. only then did god bless me by allowing me to black out. i woke up in a hospital. after i told them who my mother was and showed them the picture i had of her in my wallet the checked and confirmed to me that she was found dead. i was 14 then and i have just turned 24 a month ago. i still cry when i remember this day. i thank god that i was blessed with the gift of life through that incident that so many were not given. i ask you all to never forget those who died that day.
that is my story of that horrible day.