We met when we were twelve.

My family had decided that their third child would not have to grow up surrounded by the city the way my sister and I had. They we're convinced we were jaded because of it, and we were. In our short lives we had seen more destruction than any child really should, and honestly it wasn't because we lived in a terrible area. We spent our formative years in Fort Greene, in Brooklyn a block away from Fort Greene Park, and a gorgeous hospital. Granted our neighborhood did suffer its typical ups and downs, like the crazy man who had long since convinced the population he was a pedophile, and the one artsy neighbor who hadn't paid his dealer and was gunned down as a result. However none of those things was the trigger for our parents sudden terror for their third child's sanity. That trigger was September 11th.

My sister and I had attended St. Saviors Elementary School, and on that day in particular we were on a field trip to the financial district, and were going to be getting a special tour of the 100th floor of the south tower, because one of the schools benefactors wanted to give the 7th and 8th graders a preview of life after college, or something equally mundane. When the North tower was hit, we had entered the South tower and were on the elevator going to the 100th floor, when the north tower was attacked. So when we emerged from the elevator we expected to see the same gorgeous view of our city, and our World Trade Center. In fact prior to getting on the elevator we had stopped in the Krispy Kreme on the ground floor of the north tower for hot donuts, and were still licking the glaze off our fingers as we stepped out of the machine.

What we saw was horrific. Sometime when I close my eyes I can still see it, the bodies dropping from the building, some burning, some of people who I guess chose to leap to their deaths so they wouldn't have to burn. It terrified me, and our teachers weren't unaffected, so when some of our classmates began to scream and cry, they simply stood and stared at the carnage before them, horrified but unmoving, and my sister and I were the same. We stood there, our hands clasped together with identical looks of horror on our faces. I think new stood there for about ten minutes, before they snapped out of it enough to begin calming the students, and my favorite teacher Mrs. Franco made the executive decision to leave the area immediately. So they ushered us two by two into the nearest stairwell to begin our descent.

Several minutes later the south tower was hit, and we could all feel the impact. The staircase shook violently, and a wave of heat flashed through the building, I thought then and there, I'm going to die, so I pulled my sister closer to me, and in that cramped staircase we cried for the first time in years. We were among the lucky ones. We walked down the countless flights of stairs to the ground floor, and all the while rescue workers were going up, and there was one man, I'll never forget him. He was singing all the way down, and I think that's the only reason we made it down, we were following his voice. By the time we reached the ground floor we had lost our class, so we ran from the building, my sister and I, and we walked home. It was a walk we had done dozens of time, with our parents and by ourselves so we knew where to go. We sprinted down Vesey, and Park Row, only finding relief once we made it to the bridge. At that moment we turned around, and watched the buildings burn. Then we turned away and that's when the north tower collapsed. We simply kept walking, and I honestly the believe that the only reason we did was because we saw the back of a familiar blond head, it was our father, so we screamed and he turned, and we ran into his arms sobbing. Then I looked up at him and realized he was crying as well, and all the while he held us saying.

"My babies, thank god you're safe."

Then we turned and made our way home my sister my father and I.

A/N: I am fully aware that this is unlike anything I've written before, and honestly the only reason it is being written is because shit happens and it made me need a story like this. Now, I know I started the chapter with "we met when we were twelve" and then only talked about what happened, but theres a reason for it. I felt like I had to get this chapter out, and the last line seemed to be a good place to stop, especially considering the next chapter. but you know what? The next chapter will be up in a few minutes!
Oh! and I am well aware that I do not Own Krispy Kreme, or any of the other places Mentioned in this novella, because I did in fact use the geography of NYC, so real places are mentioned here, including St. Saviors Elementary School, and in case you were wondering there really was a Krispy Kreme store in the WTC, but I cant quite remember which tower it was in.