I was off every tuesday and always slept in. I kept my cell phone by the bed in case of emergencies. It started ringing. I answered the first time and it was one of my close friends. She didn’t really explain it too well. I said, “That’s sad, but I am going back to bed.” The phone rang again and it was my best friend. He start gushing about the WTC and told me to wake up! wake up! We were under attack! The “under attack” part really caught my attention. I was 20 years old. I ran upstairs and turned on the TV. I was deathly scared and confused. Like the rest of the country. I was scared we could be bombed or something else. I considered packing my things and driving south out of state, I was 4 hours away from DC and that scared the hell out of me. But then the more I thought about it, if everyone I knew was going to die, I wanted to die with them. Looking back that was so tramatic that a 20-year-old kid made that decision in her head. I felt super lucky I had a cell phone to stay in contact with people throughout the day. I did call of my best friend in Houston (big city) and he was ok. I don’t think I ate that day. Everyone that day scared me. Especially people of foreign desent.
My friends and I stayed glued to the TV all week. And oh I cried. I cried so hard for weeks. And I watched the TV’s very graphic coverage of the bodies, the damage, the screams, terror and confusion. I never stopped watching even though I should have turned it off.