Gone.

Gone.

Amanda is doing the dishes. The phone is ringing, but she can't hear it, what with the Beatles blasting through the stereo at top volume. Her arms are covered up to her elbows in warm water and lemon-scented soap and she's humming along to the tunes of 'Hey Jude'. She finishes up with the last dirty plate just as the song ends and a slower number that she's not familiar with starts up. She rinses off the soap, drying her hands off on the apron that she insists on wearing whenever she's in the kitchen. Josh doesn't get it, but that's okay. He has his own little habits that she doesn't understand. She takes off the apron and hangs it in its customary place, switching off the stereo in the process.

The phone is still ringing. Amanda can hear it now. She's taken a day off from work and wonders who could be calling her at 9:30 AM on a Tuesday. She picks up the phone just as it stops ringing, only to find nearly a dozen missed calls from her sister-in-law. She chuckles softly to herself and tries to guess what Sarah, Josh's younger sister, is calling her about today- her new dress for a weekend party, or the pair of Louboutins she bought to accompany it. In spite of Sarah's frequent theatrics, Amanda is quite fond of her. Her periodic phone calls make Amanda feel like she's actually a part of Josh's otherwise hostile family.

She and Josh have been married for nearly a year now, and had been together for two before that, but she still doesn't feel accepted by his relatives. Josh always tells her not to worry about it, that they'll come around, but Amanda isn't so sure. She's grown to be okay with it, though. Life's still good- she has friends, she's married to the man she loves, they've both got jobs doing what interests them, and they're right where they want to be, living in the heart of New York city. And although their apartment is a little small and without a dishwasher or second bathroom, it feels just right for the two of them.

Josh's parents, though, think that he could be living in a much bigger place if Amanda wasn't 'weighing him down'. She remembers the time she had dinner with Josh's family to announce their engagement. That meal had just been cold stares from his parents, mixed with forced smiles on her part and obligatory conversation on Sarah's. The whole affair had been filled with snide remarks about the worthlessness of Amanda's art degree. In their opinion, Josh's work in business was of more value than hers in the creative field would ever be. The night had ended with her now mother-in-law bluntly accusing her of ruining her son's life. Josh had shouted her down, and then he and Amanda had left, with him vowing never to come back. Amanda had stayed quiet during the entire thing; she had never been very good at defending herself.

His mother's words had pricked at her mind ever since. It had been Sarah who reassured her, a few days after that night, that there was no one better for her brother. And Amanda believed her. She still doesn't understand why she and Josh fit, but they do. Josh doesn't get angry often, but when he does, she's the only person who's ever able to calm him down. When she gets upset, he's the only one she wants to talk to. When she's happy, he's the first person she'll look for. She's confident that it's the same the other way around. When they embrace, her head tucks perfectly under his chin. She smiles, slightly shaking her head and her thoughts move on to what she'll add to her portrait, when, tomorrow, she heads to the art studio where she paints for commission.

Amanda only remembers that Sarah had called her when she reaches for the day's newspaper, her mind having wandered as it often does, and realizes that she's holding the phone in her hand. She doesn't bother dialling Sarah's number because she knows that she'll call again. And she does. This time, Amanda picks up on the first ring, using her free hand to untie her blonde hair from its bun.

"Hey, Sar, " she says, affection coloring her voice.

"Aman- Amanda. Oh thank God. " Sarah's voice comes out in hiccoughs and she sounds breathless. Amanda tenses up. She was there when Sarah broke up with her boyfriend of three years and even then she didn't sound nearly as cut up as she does now.

Urgency creeps into Amanda's voice as she says, "Sarah, what's wrong?"

Against her will, she's reminded of the night that a call came for her at 3:00 AM. No phone call at that hour ever bodes good news. She remembers how her mother's trembling voice had told her that her father was gone. She remembers how she felt her stomach drop and her throat choke up. She remembers how Josh held her in his arms all night. She remembers how she knew that something was very, very wrong as soon as she heard the phone ring. She gets that feeling now.

"Sarah?" she says into the phone, her voice barely rising above a whisper. For a few long seconds, there's no response, save for the sounds of ragged breathing.

"Turn-turn on the news, Mandy, " Sarah manages to choke out.

With her heart thumping faster than she thought possible, Amanda fumbles about with the remote for a moment and switches from NBC, Josh's favorite, to a news channel. The first thing she registers is a TV reporter speaking into a microphone, raising her voice to be heard over all the shouts in the background. Amanda isn't able to tell what she's saying.

The phone is still pressed up against her ear. "He's not answering his phone, Man- Mandy. He's not pick-picking up."

The call ends and only a rush of static reaches her ears. Meanwhile on TV, the camera shifts focus to two tall buildings that Amanda is very familiar with. She sees black smoke engulfing them, the likes of something she's never seen before. Her mind starts putting the pieces together. The pit in her stomach grows bigger and bigger until it's almost as if she can't breathe. And she still doesn't know what's happening. She doesn't know.

Even as her mind tells her that it's pointless, her fingers move to dial the number that she could recite in her sleep. She takes deep breaths, listening to the dial tone, trying to be calm the way Josh would want. He's going to pick up. She knows he is, because he never ignores her calls. Never. On the days he's so busy with work that he forgets to , he finds time for her. And he loves his work. He loves it for the same reason he loves the city, the rush and thrill of it. She hears five rings, six, before the voice that's as familiar to her as her own tells her to leave a message after the beep.

And she knows.

As she watches the towers crumble, engulfed in clouds of fire and smoke and dust, she knows. She knows why Sarah sounded the way she did. She knows that no matter how many times she tries calling, Josh won't pick up. She knows that she'll never feel his arms around her again. She knows that she'll never taste his lips again. She knows that no matter where she is, she'll never feel at home again. She knows that everything in her life that she was sure of is gone.

She can hear the sound of horns honking and dogs barking on the outside, the sounds of the city that never waits for anyone, but it's like her world's on mute. The silence threatens to overwhelm her. Her arms wrap around herself and her legs collapse beneath her, and the apartment that once seemed just right, suddenly feels too big.