I was 14 years old. I was in my room, getting ready for school. I was a freshman in high school. I opened my door and saw my dad run past my room to the living room. I then went to my parent’s room to ask my mom what happened and I saw her crying. She couldn’t even speak. She just looked at me, shaking her head with tears running down her face. So I decided to follow my dad to the living room because I was wondering what was going on that upset my parents this much. My dad was in the living room with the TV on. And on the tv I saw it. The World Trade Center on fire. At that time, the second plane had already hit. I froze. My dad was on the phone calling people up and I was just glued to the chaos unfolding on the tv. When I did get to school, the principal had made an announcement for all the teachers to put their TVs on to the news. And we watched, and cried and just wondered what was going on and why is this happening.