9/11 Short Stories

Improved Essays
Once more, I felt the emptiness take residence in me. When did the feeling first arrive? The kids

around me, all yelling at and flirting with one another, blurred into the steel walls. What was it that

separated me from being like them?

The school bus lurched forward. We approached closer and closer to yet another stop, where a

parent stood waiting in grim expression. Five students stood. If there were ever worst days, this was

one of them. I closed my eyes to suspend the watery burn of tears. Eight more stops. Seven. Six. The

bus was gradually quieting, as more kids left for their homes, their own sanctuaries. Only four more

stops. Three. There was something there, at the very edges of my brain, the darkness and its tendrils.

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