9/11

I sling my bag over my shoulders and step into the cool lobby. The doorman looks at me in surprise. "It's only 7:45, James!" I smile and wink, heading straight for the elevators. I press the thirtieth floor button and wait patiently. The doors slide open with a whoosh to reveal a large open room partitioned into dozens of offices. Once at my office, I put down my bag.

"James!"A voice calls out. I turn to find my boss and cousin, Fiona, headed right for me. Her usually cheerful face is pinched with anxiety.

"Yes?"I say, turning on the computer on my desk.

"Actually, you're off from that today,"Fiona leans over and turns it off. "I need you to do something for me today."

"What do you want me to do?" I lean back on the counter. She usually doesn't ask for favors, but judging by her face it's something important.

She hesitates, and then says,"The discs ran out and we really need to burn some of the information before tomorrow, when the inspectors come. Usually I'd ask Olivia, but she has a cold and didn't come today." Olivia was her 20 year old niece that worked here as an intern. "Could you go to that store down the street that sells them?" I instantly agree. Her face lights up, and she says joyfully, "That's great, we'll need 40 of them!" She presses money into my hands, and before I can protest, has shoved my bag into my arms and steered me forcefully into the elevator. "Be back as soon as you can, we need all the time we can get!"She waves as the doors close.

I stride down the street, quietly admiring the Empire State Building not a mile from where I was. Inside the store I ask the cashier where the discs are located. She is busily packaging pens, and absently says "Aisle 7" without looking up. I nod and move away.

Searching for the disks prove to be difficult, but in the end I walk to the counter triumphantly holding a box of discs. "That will be $20, please." I wince at the price, but hand over Fiona's money. Staggering out of the store, I immediately notice that something is wrong. There is a crowd of pedestrians on the sidewalk staring up at the sky and exclaiming in shock. I follow their gaze and almost drop the box. An airplane is headed straight for the Twin Towers, where I work and my colleagues are. I start running, but almost as quickly stop. There was no way I'd get there in time. I instead cross my fingers and hope that the pilot will come to his senses. But he doesn't.

A deafening boom sounds as it crashes into the tower near the floor that I work in. A cloud of smoke and fire erupts almost instantaneously, and I know with absolute certainty that there is no way Fiona or any of my friends survived. Alarms go off and the sidewalk descends into chaos as everyone flees toward safety. Well, almost everyone.

I stand there, holding a box of blank discs that will never be used. I wonder what would've happened if I had told Fiona to come with me, or had her ask someone else. Maybe more lives would've been saved.

It doesn't matter. I'll never know.

The top of the building begins to separate from the structure with horrible, grinding screeches. As it cleaves off and falls to the ground with a crash, something deep inside of me breaks.

I wonder what I am going to tell Olivia.

ALL RELATIONS BETWEEN ANY PERSON IN THIS STORY AND SOMEONE LIVING OR DEAD TODAY IS A COINCIDENCE. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED IN ANY WAY, I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE.

If I could go back in time, I'd go back to when the Twin Towers were destroyed on 9/11. I'd try to warn everyone inside or close by and get them away from the buildings. Preventing as many casualties possible would be my highest priority that day.