The Falling Man

We were running late.

As always.

Katrina couldn’t decide what to wear for a good hour, and even though I got her up a half an hour early, we were running ten minutes late. Which was better than the usual twenty.

“Mommy,” she whined to me, her hand in mine as I dragged her through the crowds of people, “Mommy, I don’t wanna run. I haven’t even eaten my cereal yet.”

“We have to meet Daddy, Katrina. We’re running late already,” I glanced at my watch, it was 8:37, and we weren’t anywhere near West St. yet.

“But I’m hungry,” she pulled her hand away from me and crossed her arms in front of her chest, as if she was refusing to move.

“Katrina Mae, you are not going to do this right now at all,” I grabbed her hand again, and pulled her along, “I’m going to get you a muffin as soon as we get there, but right now we need to keep going.”

She smiled at me, “Muffin? Blueberry?”

“Any type you want, sweetheart,” I said harsher than I wanted to, but was distracted by the fact we were now at a standstill because of a fucking cross walk. I would’ve been jaywalking all the way, but there was this ignorant cop standing in the middle of the street, blowing on his whistle at cars as if he was part of the Village People.

“What about banana-nut?”

I looked at her confused, “I thought you hated banana-nut.”

She shook her head, her hair covering her face, “Nuh-uh. I like muffins.”

“Obviously.”

Finally, the light changed, and that fucking cop started blowing his whistle at us, trying to hurry us up. If Katrina wasn’t with us, I would’ve shoved that whistle down his fucking throat. But, I suppose he would’ve liked that, being a member of the Village People.

I could barely make out the sign for the shop, breathing a sigh of relief to see it in sight, when Katrina screamed, staring at the sky with horrified eyes.

But she wasn’t the only one.

People had stopped in the streets, cars, buses, staring at a dark shadow of a plane as it crossed over the buildings.

And then as it crashed into the north tower of the World Trade Center.

I stood there, mouth agape, and clutching her hand.

“Mommy!” She screamed, tears streaming down her face as she stared up at me. She screamed it over and over again. But I couldn’t do anything but stare at the destruction before me.

The crowd was beginning the move, people pouring out of the buildings and down the streets, debris falling in masses from the building as a black, consistent cloud of smoke and ash poured from the building.

“Get out of my fucking way!” One man roared at me, his face and hands red from the stress and intensity of the situation at hand. He shoved me hard against the brick wall, and I felt pain shoot up my arm. I yelped in pain, grabbing my arm, then was pressed by a mass behind me to stumble forward.

The sky was quickly becoming a mass of black and blue, like the bruises forming on my arms and feet.

I had never seen anything like it.

A siren went off, local police screaming out orders at the crowds trying to get away while new crews pressed forward, trying to get a better shot of the broken building above.

All I could hear was the horrid sound of screaming, and the shatter of breaking glass as it fell to the ground.

“Pedestrians must evacuate the area immediately!” The screamed over and over again, but too many people were hypnotized by the sight to leave.

Could you blame them?

There were people streaming out of the building, cutting throats just to get out alive.

A woman ran past me, her work suit smoking still, her face and hands bloodied and red as the crimson fluid poured out of a wide open gash. She looked at me as she ran past, her eyes crazed and blue, full of fear and confusion.

And all I could do was clutch the light post, the only thing holding me upright as I stared up at the burning mess above, gasping for breath.

“Lady, you need to move, I need this spot for a camera shot ” a guy with a baseball cap stood in front of me, shoving me off the pole, we need this spot for a shot of the tower.

Fire fighters had arrived on scene, roping people out as quickly as they could, helping people out of the buildings and subways below.

“Lady, did you fucking hear me? I need to get this shot!” The guy started screaming at me, but my eyes were glued to the towers.

And the other plane that was flying towards it.

And I was still watching it as it blasted through the South Tower, causing a cloud of fire and smoke to erupt and heat my face.

I shielded my eyes from the glare, squinting to see the blue glass fall to the ground.

Then at the people that came pouring out of that building.

Then to the police screaming even louder for people to leave.

And then to a woman who was screaming at a fire man.

Her face was red, her hair whitened from the ash and debris, her clothes becoming the same color.

“You need to let me in!” She sobbed, “My baby! My baby’s in there somewhere!”

The man just held her back and she struggled to break free, pleading with him as tears streaked against the ash.

Seeing her reminded me of something, and caused me to scream in fear and horror.

Katrina was no longer holding my hand.