I don’t know if I hear the impact or feel it. The explosion rocks the entire building, and the windows shatter in a waterfall of glass. At the same time, a cacophony screams in my ears. I feel myself blown backwards in the air, as limp as a rag doll. I crash into something, and pain slams into my skull. It is almost with gratitude that I pass into unconsciousness.
The first thing I am aware of is the screaming. Choked, desperate screams, punctuated by guttural sobs. A low ringing drill into my skull, and I become slowly aware of a concentrated burning sensation fixed just above the nape of my neck. I have never experienced pain like it. I realize that my voice has joined the screaming hoards without my permission, and tears are streaking down my face. An uncomfortable feeling spreads through me as I realize that I’ve wet myself in terror. With a surge of pure willpower, I relax my mouth, and crush my lips together. My resolve to get up crashes and burns as I shift my hip an inch or two. A wave of agony washes over me, black and piercing. I begin to scream again, unable to hold back the flood. Slowly, painfully, I claw back control of my body. I pant, each exhale a breathy whimper, and in one fast, excruciating movement, yank myself into a sitting position. I nearly pass out, drowning in the pain.
I yell aloud, and then settle against the smashed frame of the café display. Glass is scattered around me in deadly piles, spread with a ruby sheen of blood. My blood, I think in horror. With trembling, tentative fingers, I probe the back of my skull, prompting another rush of torment. I scream as I extract a lethal shard of glass from the back of my neck. I drop the dagger, coated in blood, on the floor next to me with a clatter, and lift my head slightly. Somehow my day gets worse.
Fires- random hazes of red and gold- have begun in a few places, and the room is slowly filling with smoke. A lot of the walls have shattered, leaving dangerous gaping holes leading to hell around me. The double doors from the café to a long corridor are obscured by the rivers of smoke pouring through the seams. Somehow the doors failed to shatter at the impact. Bodies are littered around, a few unconscious, most up, trying to stifle the smoke. I see at a glance that the effort is futile, but God, I wish I could do something to help. Anything, instead of just sitting here.
I know it’s stupid- probably the dumbest thing ever, but I cannot help but fish my phone from my pocket and dial 911. I place the phone against my ear, and then frown as ‘Systems busy’ appears on the screen. I pull another shard of glass from my upper thigh- this one not as deep, and sigh in pain and frustration. My eyes widen, as i look at my contacts list. Why not? It seems like a really dumb idea for some reason, but I am so desperate to speak to her before I leave this world, I don’t care. I have to hang up twice, and redial as my numb fingers keep pressing the wrong buttons, but on the third try I get it right. Please pick up, I think desperately. Please.
“Hey Oscar. Is it your break already? I-“
“Jesse.” I interrupt her; my voice crumbling from hearing her voice, smooth as melted chocolate.
“You alright, love? You sound really weird.”
“Have you, er, seen the news?”
“No, should I have?” She sounds worried now. Like ripping off a plaster, I tell myself.
“I’m going to die.”
YOU ARE READING
9/11
General Fiction9/11- the hideous act of terrorism that has shaped our modern world. We've all heard of it, know of the bravery, understand the horrors of the people trapped inside. This is what happened. these are their stories. A.N these are works of fiction, and...