It’s been 20 years since September 11, 2001.

For me, 9/11 was the beginning of a new school year. I was in seventh grade learning new teachers’ names and new areas to the school. It was a normal day.

But then the phone in the classroom started ringing, someones mom was picking them up to go home. Then another call. And another. Change periods. Phone calls all day, until the last period of the day where it was just a handful of us left. Those of us remaining had no idea what had happened. The homework was still there, not as much, but still stuff to do, to I am sure to keep us busy.

I walked out of the school, and there’s my mom. Not the babysitter. My mother. Now I’m starting to wonder what’s going on. I get in the car and she tells me that the World Trade Center had been attacked and they had fallen. I never knew the towers as the World Trade Center, I knew them as the twij towers. When we would go to my babysitter’s house before school, or after to her house, I’d be able to see them from a bridge crossing Route 22.

We go home and I start watching the news as its replaying everything. I remember putting a VHS tape in and recording everything I could about whar happened. I remember talking to one of my best friends about the attack, and telling him we were going to war.

Never Forget.