Two YearsAuthor:
Rorie Rating:
PG Disclaimer: This is all mine. Any similarity to anyone real or fictional is purely coincidental. Author's notes: This was written as a form of healing, even two years later. Dedications: To Tina, Trish, Ashley, and anyone else who lost someone on that day or in any of the days since to the fight for freedom from terrorism. Two years age today the world ended. Good friends were lost forever, and yet, I survived. I still wake up every morning asking the same question—why? I remember a gasp of shock then fear. "Oh my God!" someone choked out. Others just cried. "My cousin works on the 80th floor," another whispered brokenly. We were so glued to the television set in shock and horror that we never saw it coming. Not until the loud roar then the shaking like we were taking fire. Then the blackness—the smoke. The screams from the trapped—the murmurs of comfort from others. I heard you scream my name, I screamed yours in return. Then it was silent, eerily so. I'm sure there were other screams, but I was only focused on the absence of yours. Someone dragged me, kicking and screaming, out into the bright light. They didn't understand—we don't leave men behind! "It's not safe," he murmured, keeping me from running back. The reality sunk in and I collapsed against him—this stranger who saved my life… at the expense of yours. "Why?" I screamed at the heavens. I got no answer in return. They rebuilt it, you know. Our office doesn't look the same but it still hurts to walk in every morning and not see your smiling face… to not see so many who should still be here. Sometimes it is all that I can do to maintain the decorum that was drilled into us. To appear strong for our countrymen who are counting on us… Why? We were just doing our jobs, just like over 3000 other people that day. Three-thousand! I still don't have all the answers, Kate. I still don't know why those 19 men and their backers hated us so much… I do, however, have my own answer to why I lived when you and so many others didn't. This is my husband, Jack. He held me back from the burning building. He let me pound on him and scream. He held me as I collapsed in tears. And this is our daughter, Katelynn Hope. She's six-months-old today. Katelynn for you, and Hope because that's what she is. Hope that life still goes on. I ship out tomorrow. The shooting war may be officially over, but there's still a lot to do. Watch over them for me, Kate. Watch over me, too. I need the strength to do what I must… what we were trained to do. I have to… for Katelynn and all of the other little lights of hope… and for you. The woman started as a hand touched her shoulder. She turned and smiled. Carefully placing a bouquet and an American flag in front of the white stone, she stood and straightened her uniform. She stepped back and came to attention. She snapped off a perfect salute then raised her eyes heavenward in a smile for her lost friend. The end. |
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