I was 10 years old in my 5th grade class. My teacher Mr. Peters had stepped out to talk to the principal. I was sitting at my desk, trying to ignore my classmates’ teasing me about my crush on one of my friends, Samantha. Mr. Peters came back inside, white as a ghost. When we asked what was wrong, He told us exactly what had happened. I went to the bathroom afterwards, kids were crying and screaming. Teachers were trying to control the chaos. My babysitter picked me and her son Rueben up from school. I went to her house and prayed that no one from my family was in New York that day. When my mother, brother, and sister came home, I hugged them for as long as possible. We spent the night in our mother’s bed, watching the news. I may have been young, but I understood perfectly what was going on. I will always remember 9/11. GOD BLESS US EVERYONE!