Written by Sara Rachelle
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.
September 11, 2001
Lizzy’s POV
I woke up at 7:30 AM to the sound
of my daughter Katherine, Katie for short, crying. I got out of the bed that I
usually shared with my husband, Brock, but he was on a two-day business trip to
New Jersey. Actually, he was coming home today, on United Airlines Flight 93.
I walked over to Katie’s room and
picked up the one-year-old from her crib. I quietly rocked her back and forth
as my three-year-old son, Conner, walked into the room.
"Hi, Mommy," Conner
said.
I picked up Conner with my free
arm. "Morning, Conner. You wanna have some breakfast now?"
He nodded, and I took them to the
kitchen. I put Katie in her high chair, and Conner sat down in one of the
chairs as I made him cereal after giving Katie her bottle.
After breakfast, I helped Conner
get dressed for preschool. After getting him ready, I picked up Katie and took
Conner’s hand to lead him to the car.
On the way to his preschool,
Conner asked, "Mommy? Is Daddy coming home today?"
"Yes. He’ll be home by the
time I pick you up from preschool. All right?" I looked back at my kids,
who were in the backseat, and saw Conner nod his little head. When we got to
Conner’s preschool, I walked him inside and hugged him with my free arm, the
other arm holding little Katie.
"Love you, Mommy," he
said in the little voice that I loved.
"I love you, too, honey.
Have a good day at school," I told my little boy. He waved, and then ran
off to play with some of his friends, leaving Katie and me to go to the car and
drive home.
As I was pulling into the
driveway of my house, I heard something on the car radio that shocked me.
"Wow, this is amazing! A
plane has just hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center!"
I screamed, making Katie cry.
Oh, my God, I thought. Brock!
Brock’s POV
I ran through the airport as fast
as I could while holding my carry-on bag, which was pretty heavy, considering
it was the only luggage I had brought since the business trip was so short. I
was about to miss my plane!
Running ahead of people in line,
I said, "Sorry! My plane leaves in ten minutes!"
After going through security, I
grabbed my bag and ran towards the plane terminal.
"All passengers for United
flight 93 should be aboard by this time," I heard the attendant at the
terminal say. I ran faster, and finally arrived there.
"I made it," I breathed
heavily.
"Yes, you did," the
attendant said while running my ticket through the machine. "Have a good
flight."
I nodded and boarded the
airplane.
Lizzy’s POV
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t
think. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything. All I could think about was the
fact that Brock was flying home today. What if it was his flight that had hit
the World Trade Center?
Katie’s crying snapped me back to
the present. I slowly got out of the car, opened the door to the backseat, and
got Katie out of the car. Slowly rocking her, trying to calm her down, I walked
into the house and turned on the news on the television.
There was a picture of the North
Tower of the World Trade Center, slowly burning down. I couldn’t believe this
was happening. This couldn’t be happening.
Brock’s POV
A while into the flight, I heard
tons of commotion up in first class. There were a few huge turns in the flight that
caused people to fall out of their seats. I knew something was wrong.
People were yelling and crying. I
looked around and saw that the other people in coach looked just as confused as
I was. Suddenly, everyone in first class came rushing through the curtains that
separated the two areas.
"Get to the back of the
plane!" I heard somebody yell. Everyone was rushing through. I got up out
of my seat, half-confused and half-scared. Once everyone was seated in the
back, three Middle Eastern-looking men started to talk with heavy accents.
"We have knives and
bombs," one of the men said. Another man lifted his jacket to show the
bombs that were strapped to his waist. My mind was spinning. What the hell was
going on here?
Suddenly, it hit me. We were
being hijacked.
Lizzy’s POV
There was no use in trying to
call Brock. He was in the air. There was pretty much no chance that the call
would go through.
Watching the television, I could
see people crowded around the burning building just as a plane hit the South
Tower.
I screamed again, covering my
mouth with my hand. All I could do was hope against hope that Brock would come
home safe.
Brock’s POV
Two of the men went to the
cockpit, while one stayed in coach, watching everyone. After awhile, I heard
someone on the loudspeaker say, "This is the captain. We have a bomb on
board. We are going back to the airport. They have better demands."
Everyone looked at each other.
One man muttered, "Back to the airport?"
I looked at him, and said,
"There’s no way." Some of the other people around us nodded their
heads.
Then we all seemed to be thinking
the same thing. We have to get control of the plane back.
But first, I had to call Lizzy.
If something happened to me, I couldn’t die without telling her good-bye.
I got out my cell phone and
dialed the number for the house.
Lizzy’s POV
Suddenly, the phone rang. I
walked over to pick it up, looking at the caller ID. It was Brock! Thank God!
I immediately picked it up.
"Brock!" I practically screamed. "Are you all right?"
What he said next was totally
unexpected. In a low voice, he said, "Actually, no, I’m not. I’m on a
plane that’s been hijacked."
"Hijacked?" I asked. I
felt like screaming and crying at the same time. My mind was spinning...what
could I do? No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t!
"Yes. Three or four Middle
Eastern-looking men say they have bombs. Two people who look dead are lying in
the corridor," Brock told me. I heard somebody tell him something in the
background. "The captain and first officer."
"Oh, my God," I said.
"Brock, they’re hijacking planes all up and down the east coast.
Authorities believe that they’re all commercial flights. They’ve already hit
both towers of the World Trade Center, and there are a few planes in the air
that are suspected hijackings."
"They’re hijacking planes
all up and down the east coast," I heard Brock whisper. "Oh, God.
It’s a suicide mission."
Then he spoke in a louder voice.
"Lizzy...just in case something happens...I love you."
I wanted just to break down
crying right then and there. But I knew I couldn’t. I had to keep myself
together. For my sake and for Brock’s. "No, no. Don’t be silly, Brock.
You’re going to be okay, and you’re going to come home to me and our kids, and
we’re going to live happily together."
"I’m sorry, Lizzy. I don’t
think I’m going to make it out of here alive."
I started shaking uncontrollably
as I held back tears. "No! You can’t die, Brock! You know why? Because
Conner and Katie need you. I need you! You can’t die! This can’t happen! I
won’t let it!"
"I don’t want you to let
it...but this is beyond our control. Just remember, I love you. I will always
love you."
At that point, I just let the
tears fall. The only time I ever cried like that was when my Nana died five
years ago. "I love you. I’ll always love you...more than anything."
I could practically see Brock’s
smile through the phone. "I love you, too. Tell Conner and Katie that I
love them...and tell my family that I love them."
I wanted to say more, but all I
could say was, "Okay."
"Lizzy, I have to go. We’re
going to try to get control of the plane back. I love you more than anything,
and I love Katie and Conner. Never forget that. Good-bye."
"I love you, too, Brock.
Good-bye."
I couldn’t believe that he was
being taken away from me.
Brock’s POV
That was the most painful thing I
had ever done. It made me so upset that it was going to be so much harder for
Lizzy and the rest of my family...than it would be for me. I knew I wasn’t
going to make it out of here alive.
I could hear Lizzy’s sobs as she
screamed, "Brock, no!" as I hung up the phone. And for the first time
since I was a little kid, I cried.
Lizzy’s POV
I collapsed on the floor,
screaming and crying. As much as I wanted Brock to come home, I just knew he
wouldn’t. It wasn’t going to happen.
I went to Katie’s crib and picked
up the sleeping baby. I continued to cry as I held one of the only things I had
left of Brock close to me.
Brock’s POV
Almost everyone on the plane was
sobbing and talking to their families on their phones. It was the most painful
sight I’ve ever seen. I looked out the window and saw that we were probably
only about two hundred fifty feet above the ground. At the speed we were
going...well, the aircraft could break up at that point!
We got many things ready to
attack the hijackers with and put them on the tray that was usually used for
when the flight attendants gave us food on the airplane.
Many other men and I ran the tray
through the curtains to first class and to the cockpit, pouring soda and hot water
on the man who was guarding the cockpit door.
We heard screams as we ran the
tray into the cockpit door, trying to break it down. The men inside the cockpit
were trying to hold the door closed. I looked out the window, and saw how close
to the ground we were. There were no more than twenty feet between our plane
and the ground.
I suddenly got this sick feeling
in my stomach, and felt like I could throw up at any moment. I couldn’t believe
this was happening to me. Out of all people, me! Now, I know that sounded
selfish, but seriously. What were the chances?
Somebody screamed, "We’re
gonna crash!"
I looked up at the ceiling of the
plane, as if I was trying to find God. "I love you, Lizzy, Katie, and
Conner," I whispered. I heard many more screams, and I suddenly felt
dizzy. Then, my world went black.
Lizzy’s POV
I watched on the television as
police, firefighters, and the FBI investigated the area in Pennsylvania where
United Flight 93 crashed. I couldn’t move. I held Katie close to me as I
watched the television.
I felt sick to my stomach, and
ran to the bathroom, where I threw up all my breakfast. I collapsed against the
bathroom wall, screaming and crying. I had to let it all out. How could this
happen? How was I supposed to tell Conner that his father was gone, never to
return? How was I supposed to tell Brock’s whole family that he was dead?
"Please!" I screamed.
"Wake me up from this nightmare!"
The End.
