The Worst Birthday, September 11th.

March 21, 2012
By Maranda D BRONZE, Waterford, Wisconsin
Maranda D BRONZE, Waterford, Wisconsin
1 article 0 photos 1 comment

“Happy Birthday Elizabeth Marie!”, My mother and sisters shouted once I walked downstairs. It was September 11th, 2001. It was about 6:00 am. Today was the day I’m sure many people do not want to remember. I can remember it perfectly. It was my birthday today and it was the worse day. I got up early to bake a cake with my mother. She decorated it with my name Elizabeth Marie. I was so excited for this day to come, my father was coming home. My father’s plane was leaving at 8:14. I had to go to school at 7:30 am. He would be home way before I got out of school.
My mother has been hearing rumors about terrorists and how Osama Bin Laden hates America and is planning attacks. I didn’t believe any of it. I was just excited it was my birthday today. I was turning 12. I wanted it to be a great day because my father wasn’t home for my birthday the year before and I wanted him here this year. My father’s plane 175 was leaving from Boston Logan Airport at 8:14 am. He was on American Airlines Flight 175. There were two other American airline planes leaving in the same hour. At 7:59 am United Airlines Flight 11 takes off from Boston Logan Airport too. Flight 77 and 93 also took off around the same time, but from different locations. I went to school at 7:30 and they let us out about a hour after school started. They said we were leaving early because there was a problem downtown. Nobody told us what happened. About 5 minutes after my mother knew my father’s plane took off from the airport she got a message on her phone. The person on the phone stated, “This is the day and I love you.” She had no idea who’s phone number it was, but we knew it was my father who said that. It sounded exactly like him and there was screaming in the background. My mother began to think about horrible things that could happen. Once I got home we all began to worry.
About 20 minutes later my mother turned on the news. There was a statement going across the bottom saying, There has been a loss of communication with one of the airline flights. They didn’t know which one it was . All we knew was that my father was on one of those planes and the plane began going off course heading towards the world trade center. 10 minutes later there was another report. Hijacking was occurring on two planes. Families were out on the streets looking of up at the sky, praying and crying. There has been a report that one plane is heading towards the northern world trade center. Soon enough no one knew what happened. All I know is only a few people in the city knew what was going on. No one in the World Trade Center knew anything.
8:45 am was the time it was gone and many others where too. The northern world trade center was in ashes. The city was covered. I kept thinking who would highjack a plane and kill themselves to show they hate America. There were 92 people on flight 11. I had a bad feeling something I loved was going to be gone next. I cried. It was my birthday. I didn’t wish for anything this bad. I just wish it was all a dream but it wasn’t. 9:03 am was the time of the day I was born. 9:03 am was when the whole city was covered. Covered with white, gray ash, and crying families. I was shocked in horror and sadness. I never wished for my dad’s plane to crash exactly on the time I was born. But now he was gone and I couldn’t do anything. All I thought of was that all this was my fault.
Two years later I couldn’t take it anymore. I was overwhelmed. I had to be with my father. The one who raised me till I was 12. The one who spent time with me and gave me more attention then, my younger siblings. The one who I trusted and the one who was there for me. To this day I’m with my father watching over my family and the city that was destroyed on September 11th. I took my life two years after my father died. The day I took my life was September 11th 2003. I was 15 at the time and I believed it was the right thing to do.

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