9/11 Essay: Historical Narrative



The day was September 11, 2001, in New York City. I was getting ready to go work in the North Tower of the World Trade Center at 8:00 a.m. As I was about to leave my home, I forgot my car keys, which had never happened before. So I went back inside to get my keys and realized that I forgot to pack my lunch. At the moment, I knew that today wasn’t going to be a good day for me because usually I never forget anything. 

As I was going to work, I noticed something different, but I couldn't tell what it was. I didn’t know if it was the sun who didn’t even decide to come out of the ponderous clouds or if it was the quietness of the streets of New York, which were always so loud; but I knew something was wrong. As I made it to my office, I came across a sign on the wall with big, black ink stating that approximately 5,000 employees were going to get laid off in November. During that moment, I felt worried, scared that I might not be able to pay my rents by the end of the year and be what kids these days call, a hobo. 

I got onto an elevator and pressed the big, yellow button which had the number 28 on it. Even though the elevator was packed, it was as quiet as a stone statue. I could even hear my own heart and organs running. After a while, it was my turn to get down the elevator, with the rest of my coworkers. As soon as I got off the floor, I rushed to my cubicle to get started on the work that my boss, Peter, had given me and my team. 

After a while, I heard a big thud that launched me out of my chair, and straight for the rough brick wall behind me that knocked me unconscious. As soon as I opened my eyes, I could only see people running towards the stairs like a flock of chickens running away from the butcher. All I could hear was people screaming, “Run! Run for your life!” I finally got myself up to my feet and started to head towards the stairs with the other people. Nothing could be seen, it was just a big, foggy, building covered in flames and smoke. The only thing that was guiding me down the stairs was the shiny, metallic handle-bars next to the stairs. I thought of nothing else, but getting myself to safety.

As soon as I got to the ground floor, I could hear the firefighters screaming in their big, red suits with gas masks on, “Get to the other tower, we need to save them too!” I rushed out of the huge, smoky doors in the front just to see that it was a plane that had crashed into both buildings of the Twin Towers. Abruptly, a cop came up to me and shook me to bring me back into reality only to tell me that I froze in front of the buildings for 5 straight minutes. 

He then pushed me and shouted with great intention, “Run. Runaway as far as you can.” 

After hearing and seeing multiple people run far from the attack, I took off and ran further than Forest Gump ever did. After a long time of running, I finally reached my home at 6:00 p.m. and achieved a sense of safety, which I didn’t have for the past 4 hours. I immediately rushed into the living room to switch on the T.V. only to hear President Bush say approximately 1,500 people have died, and more than 2,000 people have been injured. Only then I could imagine how close I was to be one of the people who had died or gotten injured and scared the life out of my family who were on the other side of the planet.