Personal Narrative Essay: The First Day Of My Life

1069 Words 4 Pages
The sun shined bright, not a cloud in the sky. 72 degrees, a slight breeze coming in from the ocean. It is without a doubt the most gorgeous day I can remember in my life. Ironically, it is also the first day I can remember. It was my second day of preschool, my parents woke me up bright and early to get ready. I was excited to go and see all the friends I had made on my first day. My family and I quickly ate breakfast and I fastened myself into my car seat. On the way, I could catch a glimpse outside my car window of what I now know is the New York City skyline. Two grey towers that are almost identical, although one seemed to be just an inch taller scraping the skies in the forefront, and the Empire State Building just beyond them. I was …show more content…
she was very tense, and didn 't speak much, only to say that something very bad had happened. The streets were congested far more than usual, everyone seemed to be in a rush, and there was no one hanging outside the local diner chatting. We soon got to the same road where I saw that skyline only a few hours earlier. As mentioned earlier, two images remain with me from September 11th, the second of those is what I saw at that moment. Those grey, identical towers each had a gaping hole in the middle of them. Pitch black smoke traveled from those holes, traveling through the slight wind coming in from the ocean, ripping across the clear, cloudless sky, and well over my head. I was not sure exactly what was going on, but I knew simply that smoke meant fire, and fire meant …show more content…
My grandfather convinced her to let me stay, so I did. Something I vividly remember is asking why birds were falling from the sky around the towers, everyone was quiet, and I now know why. Turns out, those weren’t birds falling from the sky on national television, they were the bodies of those who had jumped from the towers. News soon broke that a third plane had hit a building I had never heard of in Washington D.C., I am now aware that the building was none other than The Pentagon. My family had their heads in their hands at the devastation that was taking place right before our eyes, the worst of it taking place 20 minutes east of us. I sat quietly, struggling to understand what was happening. We looked on in terror as the south tower, or as I knew it, the “littler” tower, fell. My grandparents shrieked, my mom left the room, and I broke down and ran out of the room after her. I was distraught over not being able to see one of the buildings I had seen earlier ever again, as I certainly didn’t understand death at the time. That was the last of the coverage I saw of the event for the day, I learned the next day that the North Tower had also

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