Yasmine Accidents: A Short Story About 9/11

In the months, weeks, and eventually days leading up to my flight to Germany the panic was gnawing away at me. Despite the fact that this wasn’t the first time I was venturing out without my parents or even my first time on a plane, it was my first time for a myriad of other experiences in my life. My first international adventure, my first time living with a family that wasn’t my own, and my first time being surrounded by people speaking a different language; all of which began with a simple decision to cross the threshold between the jet bridge and the plane.

The play opens with a flight attendant demonstrating the airplane precautions, safety procedures and reminding passengers to fasten their seat belts and to turn off all cellular devices. Before each new airline scene played, the film displays the name of the flight, location of trying to land, and number of passengers and crew members that were on the flight. To present danger within

Nothing I did worked. His skin, so close, so warm against my own, did it distract me? Was that it? I had done my best to free myself from the darkness he had encompassed around me, but my efforts did next to nothing in getting him away. He evaded it all. I was floundering amidst my own failure, but he was still there, still overshadowing me.

As kids, we were all warned about the basics. Call 911 for emergencies, tell an adult if someone touches you or even tell the teacher when someone says a bad word. But what happens when something happens to the last person you’d think it would happen to.. Yourself. Who could you actually turn to, and when the time struck, how would the words flow out to confess the crime done to you. Or even worse, would the words come out at all? “Can you tell me what happened exactly?” “It's okay to talk to us, we’re here to help you, not hurt you.” The words kept ringing in my head. But was it okay to talk to them? Speak of the unspeakable with people... people I didn't know, nor trust? Being so young I had no idea what was going on. As my heart was racing,

BEEP! BEEP! “Already,” James moaned. “I thought I had the snooze set for thirty minutes.” James thought to himself. Before he could even get out of bed, James's mother swung open the door so hard that he could have sworn she made a dent in the wall. “JAMES! YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL AGAIN! THIS IS THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK, AND IT IS ONLY WEDNESDAY!” James quickly sprang up from his bed and began to apologize until he was interrupted as she continued to give him a lecture. She calmed down but then proceed to sass with, “Not only are you late, but your room has also seemed to be hit with a tornado. I want this cleaned up after you come home from school or else I’ll be sure you can’t feel your behind after I am done with you.” James

His 18 years of life crossed his eyes instantly. He started to become nervous and insecure gradually as the airplane was elevating in the air, and he was afraid that the airplane might drop. He could hear the wheels rolling on the ground loudly and it was unpleasant to him. Fernando’s body was reacting. He felt compressed in his chest that his lung was too large for his chest, so he had trouble of breathing, and his heart was pounding rapidly against his rib cage. During the trip, the airplane met a turbulence, so he began to feel more anxious and fearful. He felt that everything in his body wanted to leave him. His blood pressure increased, so he became agitated. Soon he started to feel dizzy and light headed. He was about to lose control of his body; therefore, he grabbed the seat handles tightly and pressed his feet intensely against the floor to prevent his body from shaking. Meanwhile, he was being extremely quiet, and all he heard were the turbulence, his heart beat and heavy breathing. As Fernando described, the ocean view out of the window was beautiful, yet he could not enjoy looking at it at all.

All I wanted was moments with my mom when I was nine; I did not get it. What about age ten, eleven, and twelve? My whole childhood was snatched out from under me, and I had to grow up way to fast. Don’t worry, I did not blame you. I blamed myself until I was fifteen. It was my fault my mother tried to drown my sisters and me. I saw signs and clues. I could tell she was not acting herself, but I said nothing. I didn’t go and ask another grownup for help. I put my sisters’ lives in danger, because I didn’t protect them.

"This is 911, what is your emergency?" A desperate eleven year old girl tried to answer the operator's question, but all I could manage were sobs.

Claire Alistar shifts in her seat to cross her right ankle primly over her left and readjusts her large, black sunglasses so that they sit farther down on her nose so that she looks even more unimpressed. "Beck got caught during a job in cicily? Really? Cicily?"

She had given this up. All of it. The path of the witches, she had decided, was not hers to take. Wielders of the gift were meant to maintain balance in a world of evil. But those same protectors had fallen prey to greed, pride and an overbearing lust for power. Bethany was raised on the stories of covens going to war and even siding with the monsters they had sworn to destroy. Beth had promised never to choose a side. And to fulfill her promise, she rid herself of her powers. So why was she here, staring at the tattered notebook that contained not only her history of witchcraft but also her magic? Pale, slender fingers flipped through the makeshift grimoire. The nightmares hadn’t stopped. They wouldn’t. Bethany was normally conscious enough to dream lucidly, but the dreams were spiraling out of control. She was aware of the old phrase, “if you die in your dreams you die for real”. That’s what frightened her. Every night she died. Her lack of magic made her vulnerable to attack. The identity of the attacker was unknown. But not

It all happened so quickly. One moment, a boy was waving to his friends, and the next, he was lying in the street. I heard the screech of brakes and a loud crash. The car’s windscreen was completely shattered. People were screaming and crying, and without thinking, I ran into the street, knelt down beside him, and called 911.

The darkness in the sky gave a hint towards the evil lurking in the world. Suspicion filled the minds of all trusted to defend particular terrain. A wind blew across the world. The kind of wind that seemed to whisper,” Boo”. Upon a strike of thunder, rain started to beat the ground. An aroma of terror had been commenced.

The clock stuck 3:45am and we packed up out makeshift bedding of carry-on items. With all the strength we could muster we gathered our bags, which seemed to weight a billion pound now. We had to get through security. Rounding the corner for TSA we could see everyone was already in line. Another 40 minutes later we were there. The first time we went through security check the day before they pulled Jamie aside to rip her bag apart. She had a camera and a bottle of perfume she forgot to take out that set off certain alarm...and I guess it looked like a terrorist. Just for fun, I took her bag and left the exact same camera and perfume in there, we had time and I wanted to see what would happen. We made it through security without any trouble. Feeling safe at the airport yet? Same objects in the bag, no security stopped us. Wow.

“Mi hijo, levantate. Ya nos vamos,” my mother whispered. “Wake up, my son. We’re leaving.” I woke up confused with my eyes still half closed. It was 3 hours past midnight on a morning during the Spring of 2002. “Why is there packed luggage? Where were we going? Are we going on vacation?” I thought. My mother must have seen my confusion, as we boarded the bus and said “Los Estados Unidos.” “The United States.” At only 5 years of age, the only thing I knew about Los Estados Unidos was the tragic events of 9/11 that unfolded 6 months prior to that night. The last thing I remember about that morning was watching my small, emerald-colored house disappear into the distance as our bus drove away.

Jonathan’s pursuit of the perfect flight took everything from him. He lost his health, his family, his friends, and even his home. Although he struggled at times