Remembering 9-11

Late post, but I can't blog at work, so here it is an hour before the day is over - MY 9/11 story.

On that day I was a senior in highschool. I woke up earlier than usual so I could put on make-up and pick out a sexy outfit to impress a boy. I picked out the tightest jeans, a cropped top and the highest heels I've ever owned - 6 inches [with platform]. I was feeling so proud of myself and hoped today would be the day he's ask me to Burritoville after classes.
I got to school very early. My school had this thing called "0 period" which came before 1st period and started at 8:10. The class was photography. I got there on time and we were sitting in our seats and watching our classmates present their pinhole camera projects. At around 8:40 someone went to the bathroom - nothing unusual. 6 minutes later he ran into the classroom and in a strangely calm voice said that a plane just crashed into the WTC. We looked at him like he was from Mars. The teacher, Mr. Gordon asked "What the hell are you talking about?" The boy said he just saw it in the window -- my school was 3 blocks from WTC...yes THREE blocks. Mr. Gordon brushed him off, but he persisted. Finally, we turned on the TV and saw the most horrifying sight. Then we heard the second crash. The intercom went on and we were told to stay put, but we ran like hell. All the entrances were locked and the FBI was on its way because our Senator's daughter was in my classes. Cellphones were not working and everyone was frantic. We didn't know what was happening, there were rumors and tears and utter chaos. Some students lit up cigarettes inside the building and noone cared.
Finally, we were evacuated out of the building and had to walk uptown via WestSide highway. We found our friends and walked in small groups checking our phones for service the entire time. Somehow mine was the only one that was working. I called my Mom and told her I was fine, she was hysterical on the other end. I then lent my cell to anyone who needed it, some of them had parents and relatives working in the Towers that day.
We walked and walked and then at one point I felt a chill down my spine. My BFF and I stopped and so did many of those who were walking. As if on cue we turned around and watched. We watched the first tower come down. It was surreal, completely fucking unbelievable, like a movie. Noone dared to move. When the dust cleared we just stood there with our mouths open and then someone started wailing and we RAN. Heels or sneakers we all ran as fast as we could...as far away as possible.
I walked all the way to 59th street, so basically 70+ blocks...despite the enormous heels my feet did not hurt at all. I was numb. I met my friend on 59th [her HS was there] and we went to McDonald's. For some reason I had a hell of an appetite.

I will never forget this day for as long as I live. It is etched in my memory in vivid detail and at the same time is repressed so far down that I never cry about it...I am just numb. I refuse to watch documentaries, tributes, and I never went to WTC site afterwards. It is just my way of coping with it. I also did not wear heels for an entire YEAR after it happened. I did not realize I was doing this until my Mom pointed it out. I guess my brain was always ready to run.

I want to say thank you and God bless you to all the people who helped that day...to all those who risked their lives and to those who lost their lives selflessly helping those they did not even know. I also want the victims of the attack to know that you will never be forgotten and we all shed tears for you and pray for you.

May there never be another day such as this. May America never know such tragedy again. May those who did this suffer a death too horrible to describe and may they go to Hell after they die.