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In Dreams Fanfic |
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| Fanfic The Student The Musician Dream On Sonnet 17 Expense of Illusion Comfortable Seraphim Thoughts of the Royalty A Usual Saturday Rehabilitating Will Behind the Bars The Games Noon Bailey Joyful Joyful Poetry About the Author Contact the Elf Links |
Joyful Joyful Joyful, joyful We adore thee It was a good day. An almost average day, with the added perk of happiness thrown in. I was going somewhere with my life. I was climbing the ladder of success with an easy smile of freedom upon my lips. Was the feeling shared? Were there others as happy and as hopeful as I was? I’ve been accepted into one of the best architecture firms in the city. Do the little people at other architecture firms feel this way? Do they also feel as though humanity will one day shout their names from the rooftops? Do they feel like they can fly out into the world and be truly free of these mortal coils? Are they as hopeful as me? 7:45. Can’t be late. Can’t be late for my very first day. A song plays in my head. “Joyful, joyful, we adore thee . . . “ I press the elevator button and the doors open. I rise; ascend to the heavens of this tall building. This slender building. Can’t be late. Already two minutes behind. “God of Glory, Lord of Love.” The doors click sharply behind me and I pause outside the elevator door. My life will not be the same after these few steps into this office. I will never be the same. 8:53. Bone jarring shake of the building. What is this? An Earthquake? Another pathetic bombing attempt in the basement? Why does this have to happen on my happy day? My good day? Don’t I deserve a few years of happiness before the firm transfers me three states away, just like before? People are screaming. They can’t get out. They can’t escape. There’s smoke, pouring in, over the windows. The glass panels are opened and people are scrambling for the fresh air. Someone leads me to the open pane and I turn to thank them, before I see the black bird. It swoops from the sky like a black angel of death. Horror washes over me as I see it dip once more and disappear behind the other tower. How can it just be gone? A whole plane doesn’t just disappear into thin air. Where did it go? An explosion. A fireball rushes out at me, trying to burn my face. I fall to my knees, covering my head. The room seems to shrink. What’s going on? Why are planes falling from the sky? Why is this happening on my good day? I feel a tear slip quietly down my cheek. “Joyful, joyful, Lord I adore thee . . . “ People are screaming louder now. Some have climbed onto the edge outside. They’re looking down on the world below from 90 stories. Why is this stupid office up so high? It’s just begging to fall. It’s challenging nature. It feels like it just want to be free, just like me. I am outside somehow. Someone pushes me, hard. I look over my shoulder. It’s the same person who helped me to the window. They offer a small smile, then a prayer to the heavens before they jump. They just jump, right off the side of the building. I watch them fly. I watch them fall. Then, they stop and I can only close my eyes. “God of glory, Lord of love . . . “ Why is this happening today? It’s not supposed to be a bad day. It’s supposed to by my special day. Terror grips me, deep in my stomach with an acid hand as I realize I will never get down from the tower alive. Already the building sways beneath us. Surely it will fall. “Hearts unfold like flowers before thee . . . “ As an architect, I say nothing. I know what will happen, and yet I cannot share news like that with people like the ones who stand around me. These hard-working people only came to work today to make some money and raise a family. What crime did they commit? Why are they on trial? Why is this happening? I don’t understand. Another jumps, right next to me. I am nudged ever so slightly, and then my foot slips. All I feel is the air surrounding my body and the smoke pushing me back up against the building before a hand reaches out and steadies me. I thank them with my whole heart. “ . . . hearts unfold like flowers before thee, opening to the sun of God.” I’ve been standing here, thinking. All of us are thinking and waiting. Waiting for one of those circling helicopters to help us. Thinking of the things that had to have gone wrong for two planes to both crash. Waiting for the tower to fall. Thinking of all the things we will never be able to do. Waiting to gather the courage to jump. They’re all waiting. Waiting for an hour or two for an absolution or a solution that will never come. Then I hear it. A strange crunch of metal and mortar and brick. A deep rumble seems to well up from the earth below us and vibrate up through the building. The other tower is crumbling. The other tower is actually coming down. We watch, in muted horror, as the people staring right at us from the same height scream one last time, then are lost in the noise and debris. It falls from grace, from its high vigil on the city that rarely sleeps. The smoke is white and so is the dust. It blinds my eyes and they tear again. There is a gap in the skyline now, and it’s filled with a tower of rubbish. I wonder how far away people can see this; how far away they can see my crumbling temple. “ . . . hearts unfold . . . “ The ground sways under me. It doesn’t seem so terribly far anymore. I can see people running away from the smoke, terrified. They shouldn’t be so scared. They’ll be all right. They’ll be fine and one day this will all just be a terrible memory. I hope someone will feed my cat. I hope they don’t forget about the hamster, or my pesky credit card bill. I certainly won’t be able to help. I want to help though, and I lean forward just a little bit, reaching out with my hand. “Lord I adore thee . . . “ I hear my name, but it is unrecognizable in the freedom of flight and through the air rushing past me. The ground seems so much bigger now. So much closer. Will I feel any pain? Does it hurt to di-
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This is my tribute to 9/11 | ||