Author: Enadariel
Title: Today I Died For It
Contest Assignment Title: Free Choice
Submission Genre: Short Story
Submission Being Reviewed: John W. Wells, Inside
((Don't judge this part; Like Leonis, I'd like to put a little background information in here...))
I wrote this a couple years ago, when the planes hit the World Trade Center towers in America. I apologize if this seems baised, but I didn't think it would or intend for it to.
It started out as a normal day. I woke up, showered, and went to my work as a bank teller. It was a slow day with only a few customers, an elderly lady who needed to check on her savings account and a young mother whose little boy was crying the throughout our whole transaction.
I heard a small, familiar beep. It was my pager. I looked over at Lina, the other bank teller on duty, with a wild eyed stare. She nodded toward the door, promising to cover for me. As a volunteer fire-fighter, the other workers were used to me vanishing occasionally.
At the firehouse, I met with some of the other volunteers. Instead of looking as they always did, there was an odd aura about the firehouse. Grown men walked around with looks of pure horror, and some shied from my glances with wounded pride. I caught sight of a television in the corner of the garage. My mind went numb. The... the... The... Trade Center Tower... I went through the rest of my pre-fire drill duties in a daze. The emotions swelling up in my heart were of immense sadness and terror. Us? In America? How? Why?
Several anxiety filled moments later, my group was at the edge of the crash site, or as close as the general public was allowed to go. I walked, or stumbled, to the scene of the crash. It had been a beautiful day this morning when I had driven to the bank. Now, the New York air was filled with dust, ash, and smoke.
Several fire-fighters were selected to go into the tower to search for survivors. Before I could react, I was shoved towards a group of fire-men ready to enter the tower.
Someone screamed. Then, the clamor was taken up by the congregation of hundreds as a second plane crashed into the remaining tower. I fell to the ground and pounded my fist into the dirt. My throat tightened, and I let the tears fall unashamedly. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a voice bellowed into my ear, screaming something about a rescue party. I was forced to my feet. "Is there no time to morn for the dead?" A voice, barely heard, voiced my thoughts exactly. But now was a time for action. I joined a group of fire-fighters headed towards the towers.
Once inside the towers, I looked around, not knowing where to begin. As I climbed higher into the tower, all I could do was shake my head. There was no-one in here stupid enough to remain. The man I was partnered with agreed. We were just about to turn back when a feeble cry for help resounded through the debris scattered hall. We rushed up a set of steps to find a man trapped beneath a scattering of steel beams. Muscles strained, and he was free. Miraculously uninjured, he hurried out of the building without a word of thanks. I shook my head and continued upward.
As we worked out way upward, the building shifted and swayed in the wind. Another cry for help rang through the air, and we turned a corner to find a woman pined under a metal filing cabinet. The downed plaster and supports of the ceiling above completed her entrapment. A few minutes later, my companion was carrying the half paralyzed woman toward the stairways. The look on her face I would never forget- a look of gratitude intertwined with raw fear.
As I continued my way up, the swaying of the tower became much worse. The building lurched and heaved with every hesitant step I took. Twice I was thrown against the ground, the wind knocked out of me. Wreckage was strewn about, and many of the metal support beams had melted or were in severe disrepair as a result of the plane's crash.
I heard the first cries of help that had reached my ears in a while. They were almost drowned out by the whistling of the wind, and for a moment I assumed I was hearing things. The thought of safety on the ground below called me, but I picked my way toward a debris strewn stairwell. I couldn't ignore the rule that had been pounded into my head in the days of my early training- never leave a man behind.
The next floor was so bad that I could hardly pick my way through it. The rubble was so intense that I was literally crawling on my hands and knees most of the way through. I rounded a corner and stared in shock. The office complex and much of the wall were gone. After seeing that damage, I was beginning to wonder if I had imagined the cries for help, but further down the hall, a pleading sob came forth once again. I found a young man curled up in one of the only remaining corners on the floor. He was staring straight ahead at apparently nothing, and many of the ceiling tiles had fallen all around him. I touched him on the shoulder and he jumped, snarling something I couldn't understand. He sprung toward the hallway, and dropped to his hands and knees as quickly as he could, skirting under the debris in the hallway. I shook my head in amazement. Why in the world had he... Suddenly, the building lurched and sent me spiraling towards the gaping hole in the wall. The building buckled violently, and I said I quick prayer for both mine and that man's safety. The building lurched again and shot me closer to the gaping hole.
I managed to grab onto a desk which was not yet overturned. Once again on my feet, I walked as best I could away from the wall. I heard frantic cries for help and realized that I could never get all the people trapped out in time. At this point, I doubted I could get myself out in time. The cries became more frantic, and I winced as they ended in a blood-chilling scream followed by a far away rumble. Floors up, the supports had finally started to collapse. The rumbling sounded again, and again, and I knew that the floors had been collapsing on one another as I’d worked my way up the building. The falling debris would soon be upon me; it was no use running.
I write this now hoping that someone will read my story and pick up my failing torch. Yesterday I lived in freedom. Today I will die for it.
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