On September 11, 2001, I was supposed to be in my fourth grade class, but instead I was home sick. My mother woke me up and told me something was happening in New York. My mom, dad, and I sat on the end of my parents bed and watched the news unfold. We saw the second plane hit and my mom and I started to cry. The phone was ringing off the hook all morning; everyone was in utter disbelief. That afternoon, my mom and I took my dog for a walk around our neighborhood. She told me to look up at the sky, because this will be the only day that I will never see a single plane in the sky. To this day, I have never seen a sky more clear, blue, and empty than I did on that Tuesday afternoon.