9/11: Midnight

I did this once (or many times, in secret) at the deadblog, and it was a lot of fun: staying up all night, blogging off and on. Really helped me feel less alone. Less worried and less sad. Not at all concerned for the fact of how little to no sleep may affect me negatively...hell, there's no tomorrow when you’re scared at twelve-thirty in the morning, somewhere in the dark between Sunday and Monday. September tenth and September eleventh.

Has it really been five years??

I was a senior in high school. Seventeen years old. Sitting in the back of history class next to my ex-boyfriend, A, who was in love with my best friend, M. We got along great, though, his best friend, C, was my other ex-boyfriend who had also dated my best friend, M, the year I dated A. (And if you followed all that...here's a cookie.)

We're acting silly, gossiping, our usual routine, when a few of our classmates walk in looking scared.

What's wrong? I ask E, the short guy who sits on the front row, makes bad grades, smokes weed.

He shakes his head, and says, Man, I can't believe it.

We have no idea what he's talking about. Then others come in, some crying, the teacher is running around looking for the TV. Where's the TV?! he says. Over and over. Someone points to the back of the room where a dust covered TV is waiting on a cart in the corner. He climbs over the desk and pushes it to the front of the room. Plugs it in. Adjusting the rabbit ears, he says he can't believe it.

We're still laughing, still in the dark. What can't ya'll believe? I ask E.

Those planes crashing through those towers, he says.

I have no idea...and then I see it. The TV. The news. The smoke rising and buildings falling. People talking. You never see the anchors looking as scared as the people watching, but we're all scared now: the anchors on the news, and the kids in my class, and the teacher standing there, frozen.

I whisper, What is that??

E says, Those twin towers.

We all get quiet. The bell rings. The teacher just turns and makes sure we're sitting, and goes right back to watching TV. We sit there the entire second period just watching it...we had no idea in first period; we sat and typed fake documents in the computer lab. But the people in Physics, they knew. Our science teacher keeps his TV and computer on at all times, and I was in Physics but quit. It was too hard, too much math. I don't know how E's passing it: he's an idiot. An idiot with all the answers...

When did this start??

Right after eight.

Who's doing it??

We don't know.

Those poor people...

For real.

The bell rings and we all walk through the hallway in a daze. Everyone's talking about it. Planes, crashes, war, death. We watch TV all day. We can't keep our eyes off it.

At the end of the last class, I walk to my car and light a cigarette, and no I don't care if any teacher sees me. If anyone sees me! I need it. I breathe it in and put it out before I ever start my car. I sit and watch the buses leave. I let everyone else go ahead of me. I light another and wait.

I drive to the cemetery. It's all I can think of...people resting in the ground, completely unaware of what's going on up here.

I walk through the headstones envious. I go to his grave and sit down and say Hi. The boy I sat next to in one of my classes. I had the biggest crush on him, and he died in a car crash. I saw his body lying on the side of the road. I was completely unreachable for days.

I lay upon his grave and stare at the sky. There's no planes, and thank God for that. Just quiet and blue. Such a pretty day for such an ugly thing. A horrible thing! Those poor people, in the buildings, on the planes. In the graves beneath me. I feel trapped now. If I don't rise from this grave and get back to my car, I might miss something. What's going on in the world?? I need a TV. Someone living to tell me. I need to stay up and keep watch.