Today, we remember, 9/11.

I'm sitting in my kitchen with a terrible pain in my stomach; from hunger and cramps. But today, it's been 8 years since the worst tradgety, I can ever imagine.

I was in first grade. We were in the middle of celebrating Brandon's birthday party. A whole bunch of kids were being called down during the day over the PA system. We just thought a whole bunch of kids were sick, or something. We had no idea what was going on. Then, I got called down. I remember thinking to myself, "Yay! I get to go home!" Honestly, what school-aged child doesn't like going home early?

Then I had found out what happened. My mum had picked up my sister from preschool, and she had driven our neighbor Donna to pick up ToniAnn and her sister. I kept asking my mum to put on music in the car (even though it barely mattered, we lived about a block away from the school.) She kept shushing me, she put on the news. I had no idea what was going on.

We had gotten home and she watched the news, she explained to me what was going on. I had gotten scared, so she sent me upstairs to her room to watch Mary Kate & Ashley. (I was six, give me a break). Mid-themesong, the news came on, showing the building collapsing. I ran downstairs, crying. I asked my mum if my dad was okay; He works in the city. She said she was trying to get in touch with him. Which got me worried even more. My younger sister, who had to be about 4 at the time, told me it was daddy's building. Ultimately, I started crying my eyes out- I had thought my dad was dead.

Finally, she got in touch with him. He reassured me he was okay, but he wasn't able to come home that night. The police had closed the bridges, any way to get out of the city was blocked. I remember many walked home that day. My dad had to sleep in his office, overnight.

I remember there was a softball game in the city we were going to attend the next day; that didn't happen. I remember when my dad and his friends would bring their kids into their office for the day, my mum was hesitant about letting me go- the fires were still burning, the fumes were still in the air, and the worst part is, it can happen again, at almost any time. It took a while for us to feel secure.

I remember the days after this, all the boys in first grade (oh, so immature..) thought it was cool. You know, bombs? You know, people jumping out of buildings? All SO cool, right? Wrong. Especially the fact we lived in New York. My neighbor had to go rescue people from there, my sister's friend's uncle died. So totally awesome. -note sarcasm-.

Today we remember the tragedy. Today, we remember those who died. Today, we pray. Today, we give support.

To end this insanely long journal,

Karissa.

Oh, and to add: My school really SUCKS. They didnt mention it AT ALL. No mokment of silence, no nothing. How fucking ridiculous is that?

And again: One of the worst tragedy's in the world, it's the anniversary of it, so whats with all the bullsh*t journals? Do people not have respect?
/rant