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As many of you know, today is the 5 year anniversary of the fall of the Twin Towers. A time in America where death, fear, and sorrow ceased the nation. This morning as I got up for my hour walk, I turned on the television and watched as images flashed from that day. Memorial ceremonies had already begun. I paused for a moment to watch the families of the victims who fell 5 years ago. They read each name; sorrow and longing ebing through their quivering voices. I couldn't help but cry. It was hard to believe that 5 years had already passed since that day.

5 years... I tried to remember where I was back then. I was in my first year of high school. School had recently started, so I was still trying to get accustomed to my new schedule. I arrived on campus half asleep (I wasn't a morning person. I'm still not) and found my locker. I chatted with some friends and discussed the homework that was due (which I forgot to complete). As I waited outside of my class, one of my friends ran up and said "Did you hear?!? The World Trade Center was bombed!!!". I gave her a confused look. The girls immediately began to chat. Someone bombed a building? A robbery perhaps? I had no clue what they were talking about. We were let into the classroom. The girls, of course, bombarded our teacher with questions. He calmed everyone down and explained the situation. He clarified that it wasn't a bomb, but 2 planes that destroyed the Twin Towers in New York. 2 planes!? Full of people!? Who would do such a thing? I stared blankly as I contemplated the situation. There wasn't much information available at the time, so many questioned remained unanswered. The day went on and all that was talked about was the attack. I came home and immediately turned on my television in my room. It was on every channel. "America Under Attack!" Grainy footage of the first plane hitting the tower played on the screen. I was shocked. I dropped my bags and fell to the ground. I couldn't believe it. Hundreds of people dead, and I just watched it replay on my television. The second plane hit, and I began to cry. I couldn't stop. I was terrified. "This is horrible", I thought outloud. I had never witnessed such a devastating event unfold. It wasn't untill later on that I heard that the Pentagon was hit as well. My father works for the government in a local base here in California. He was supposed to be at the Pentagon that day, but broke his ribs a few days before and could not go. I was thankful for that. He might have been one of those victims that day... The thought makes my insides writhe. But he's here. I was fortunate. A small ray of light in a day filled with so much darkness.

I wiped my tears and gathered my walking gear, but I did not shut off the t.v. I listened as the names echoed in the empty house. I quietly shut the door and continued my day as usuall. Even though 5 years have passed, the memory of that horrible event lingers. I wasn't directly involved, nor did I know anyone who was killed that day, but 9/11 has effected my life. It is something that I will never forget.