I know that it is very easy to belittle and mock this day, what with internet anonymity. Hell, my two previous news posts were a bunch of fake out jokes. But what happened on 9/11 is no laughing matter. You've all heard the whole "brave men and women died on that day, families lost their loved ones" stuff and as true as that is, I think that it is quite overused so let me share my story of where I was on that day.

Myself, along with about 23 other students, were sitting in our science classroom. You know the deal, genus, species, blah blah blah. When my science teacher is called out of the room. Granted, this happens fairly often so we weren't too suspicious. She then comes back to say, "Chaos is happening downtown." At that moment, my entire class shared a feeling of great confusion. She then went on to tell us about how a plane struck one of the twin towers. At this time, we didn't know anything about the radical terrorist agenda.

After hearing my science teacher desperately trying to explain what occurred, we were all sent to homeroom to listen to the radio. And there it was, "a plane has hit the tower." At that moment, my English teacher said, "Listen well because now, you are all a part of history.'

Even when we heard the news on the radio, there was such a sense of disbelief. As if this just isn't real, it couldn't be. We were sent back to the science room and everyone was silent, dead silent. One by one, our parents came to pick us up. When my mother arrived, we discussed what just happened, as to what exactly we discussed, I'm afraid that part is a blur to me.

We step outside of the school to find everything in disarray. Mind you, not the "burning buildings and riots" type of disarray, but rather a kind of silent chaos. You see, on that day, there was no public transportation, so barring calling a cab, getting a ride home was an absolute bitch. So I see all of these people scurrying around trying to find a cab, those who are not moving are sitting on street curbs, looking completely crestfallen.

A walk across a bridge later, we finally find a cab. We hop in and my mother is talking with the cab driver and being the religious lady that she is, believes this to be a sign of the end of days. Honestly, I think that thought crossed every New Yorkers' mind for at least a second. While she's talking with the cabbie, I just stare out of the window. Instead of just seeing people walking about, I see people crying, people hunched over park benches sobbing, people who have never been more lost in their lives.

I learned on that day or perhaps even that moment, how fragile all of this can be. How the destruction of two towers can just tear this city apart and how it could rend the hearts of all those who were affected.

The taxi pulls in front of my apartment building and everyone is just beside themselves. The rowdy loudness of my neighborhood was reduced to a thoughtful murmur. It was as if my entire neighborhood was holding a funeral service and all of its attendants have just arrived. I step in the elevator, still in complete disbelief. I mean I was 11, politics and homeland security and the like were foreign subjects to me.

My mother opens our apartment door and we both hurry to see the news and there it was. The video that has been played constantly after that day. You know the one, the video of one of the planes hitting the tower and the inevitable collapse of said tower. I saw people jumping out of windows and people running from the ash and failing to do so. And this was on every single channel. Then there's news that a plane crashed in the Pentagon, it was at that point where it truly hit me:

That there was no such thing as absolute safety and that anything at any time could be destroyed and at that age I was completely disillusioned. However, I cannot say that I was depressed seeing as how I lost no one in the attack. But I couldn't help but feel for those who have. One of my classmates lost her father in the attack, took her weeks to become even so much as functional.

Nine years later, I look back at this and quite honestly, I'm apathetic in terms of memorials and whatnot. Yet again, I didn't lose anyone that day. However, many people here have and it still pains them to this day. And it doesn't help that every politician uses 9/11 as a talking point.

There are many of you out there who were either too young to remember this event or were born outside of the country and don't see what the big deal is. "It's been 9 years, get over it." "People die all of the time." But what you have to realize is that it wasn't just about the victims who died or the heroes who died rescuing people. On that day, New York City was no longer split into 5 parts, it was just one big community. People rushed within a moment's notice to help out, whether they come from Upstate or within the city. And they did so without even thinking about their own lives and many of them died in this selfless act of courage.

And for once in perhaps the entirety of NYC's history, strangers actually cared for each other. No longer were people just obstacles toward one destination, they were, well, people. People with hopes and dreams and at that time a whole mess of problems. In short, NYC broke it's cold demeanor and was filled with support and caring and hope.

I'm fully aware that no way may read this, either because they don't bother checking out my news page or they simply do not have the patience/time/attention span to read all of this. For those few to none souls who read this, I hope it gave more insight on how it was to be a New Yorker on that day. Or you can just say, "LOL TL;DR." Or some other edgy internet tough guy bullshit.

Either way, I've said my peace. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to drink some iced tea.