I Remember (A 911 Story)

The building shook with the force of a freight train and fire burst out of the ugly gash in its side on the north World Trade Center tower.

Harper braced herself inside the stairwell and clutched her chest to make her heart continue beating. Dashing down the flights of steps to the computer room, she saw that the door was hanging smashed open and flame engulfed the room as employees ran for doors and stairs. The smashed remains of a Boeing 767 aircraft had dug a deep groove in the office and a few brave  employees were trying to  lift debris off a young man. He was screaming in pain as the heavy debris dug into his leg.

Without thinking, Harper dove at the young man and, as she was able, pulled him from the plane wreckage. Smoke poured into every corner and every bit of air was sucked from Harper's lungs. The flames ate away at the walls and Harper's mind burned with it; it was obvious that no one could stay in this building but how to leave safely?

Using what little air she could find, Harper shouted, "Move! The stairs are the only way down!"

People heard her and began moving in a surge to get to the stairwell, and she moved along with them. When she entered stairs, she did not begin the long walk down but instead moved up the stairs to the flights above, going quickly in an attempt to save more people. The flames leapt at her feet and she removed her high heels to go faster. As she reached the next door, she was hit by a rush of panicked people, screaming, pushing, and terrified.

"Is everyone out of that floor?" Harper asked a man.

As he dashed past her, he gave a barely noticeable nod and continued to run. Harper continued up the stairs to the top floors. She realized every step that took her higher was one more further from the ground and one more that would soon be engulfed in flame. But she couldn't think about that now; she had reached the top floor, and without hesitation she pushed open the stairwell door and entered.

The entire room had smoke leaking up from the lower floors, making the room dark and unnavigable. Stumbling to the closest window, Harper leaned against the glass, expelled smoke from her lungs and tried to steady her spinning head. Everything was a blur; nothing was clear, nothing but one thing. A second plane just like the first was plowing straight for the second World Trade Center tower. As it flew, time seemed to  stand still and all of New York watched as the plane plowed into the wall of the tower. It smashed into a million sparkles of flame and the whole building seemed to quaver with the impact.

To Be Continued...