Some Things, You Don't Forget

It's been 6 years. I was in the dorm of 26-1. A day to sleep in. Class wasn't until 10:25. Cheryl, my roommate, was at the sink, probably brushing her teeth. She had class at 9:25. Until there was a rapid pounding on our door. It was Jess. I couldn't make sense of it - I was still half asleep, dreaming. There was commotion. I woke up. Still trying to decipher between my dream-state and reality, the news was unbelievable. I jumped out of bed and barely had time to grab my toothbrush. As I brushed my teeth, Becca and Chelsea came in. Chelsea began to sob. For a moment, you simply panic. Then, it was as if I went into rescue mode. Without having even turned on the main light, all we knew was to stop and kneel in prayer. Soon, there were people coming in and out of my room. Jess and Becca showed us the news on their TV. We watched Live, as the second plane crashed. For the remainder of the week, our room became the Prayer Room. Our RA's room, the News Room. Classes were canceled, but we had mandatory convocation in the Vines Center. The floor would be covered, all the way up to the top of the stadium. Ironic. My mom called to check that I was ok. I was. All I could do was take care of my girls. Some had parents, siblings, cousins, uncles, aunts, friends who worked in that area. But in the moment, anyone remotely in that area came to mind. That night, I couldn't sleep. My eyes would close in darkness, and all I could remember was someone lying beneath the rubble, still conscious. -o-*-o-*-o- Now, 6 years later, the prayer calls go out at 4 in the morning. Over dinner, Jennifer asks me if I remember what day it is. All day, I've remembered. You simply don't forget where you were when you found out.