Remembrances

I remember the phone ringing. I thought to myself, 'it is way too early in the morning for my phone to be ringing after working the 4:00 to 1:00 shift.'

I look at the caller ID.

Something is wrong.

I am instantly awake.

My best friend, Courtney, is screaming at me. Terror is dripping from every word like teardrops. "Turn on the TV! Turn on the TV!"
"I don't understand!" I yell back. "What's wrong, honey? What's wrong?"

"Vanessa, just turn on the g-d TV!"

I fumble for the remote, every cell in my body aware that I am about to be forever changed, I just don't by what, but I know by who. Courtney never yelled at me. Why is she yelling at me? 'We don't fight. This is wrong.' I am already crying and I don't even understand why. Fear grips me like a vice.

I finally find the power button on the remote. The TV comes to life just as I watch my city, my first home, in flames. And, then it happens. What I will learn later is a second plane slams into the south tower of the World Trade Center. I look at the clock above the TV and scream. 9:03am

"Holy s--t! I don't understand! Holy s--t! Courtney, what just happened?!? Make it stop, Courtney! Make it stop!"

"I know, baby. I know." Her voice is soothing and scared.

We cry, weeping huge sloppy tears, and embrace one another through that phone line. That morning, I felt almost 1500 miles melt away snow at the first sign of Spring.

I know we will never be the same.

I rarely ever talk about that day. Occasionally, I still dream about it in the surrealistic style of a Dali painting or an Escher drawing. My mind has found its own way of processing the nightmare.

This is the very first time I have ever written about the events that took place on September 11, 2001.