Icarus's Fall

This story is about the events of 9/11. Though none of these events actually happened, it still can bring back bad memories. If you are sensitive about this topic you may not want to read this.

Icarus’s Fall

“Thump!”

I wake as soon as I hit the ground. Groggily I sit up, clutching my bed that I had just fallen out of. I grip my head, a twinge of pain shakes me fully awake. I groan as I push myself to my feet grabbing my dresser as a brace.

My leg slips into the leg of my pants. Slowly I finish getting dressed. I head to the kitchen for my wonderful breakfast of dried granola and water.

As I munch on my breakfast, I listen to the news.

“Welcome to channel four news!” A man appears on the screen behind a desk. “Earlier today William Wrights, director of the academy-award winning, When I Die, Will you find me? Passed away after a night of drinking, he will be missed.”

I grab the remote to change the channel, but a new backdrop of a city in ruins catches my eye. I put the remote down to listen.

“In more intense news, the extremist group, Al-Qaeda, have bombed another city in the Middle East. The bombing took place at…”

I look over at the clock which read 7:23.

Oh, crap! I’m late.

I grab my stuff and head out into the bustling streets of New York City. And as I hail a cab. I think to myself how lucky I am to live in the great United States of America.

Let Al-Qaeda try us, we’ll fight ‘em back!

And with that great thought, I step into my waiting cab.

* * *

“Where to mister?” The scruffy cab driver asks.

“To the World Trade Center.” A hint of pride in my voice.

“Oh, so ya work there?” He belches into his hand.

I wrinkle my nose, “Yeah and I’m even one of the higher-ups.” I smirk, he stares back at me vacantly, I clear my throat, “Um, could we get going.”

“Ok jeez.” He turns around and pulls into the street.

A good twenty minutes later, I rush into the north tower and dash to my office on the third floor.

After an unbearably long elevator ride, i finally arrive in my office, fifty minutes late. And who’s there but my boss, Mr. Whitmore.

“Oh, hi. What brings you here?” I ask timidly, gesturing for him to take a seat.

He remains standing, aversely I follow suit, my leg aching to have a rest.

He pulls a pen out of his breast pocket and begins to spin it in his hand, “Mr. Dent, tell me if I’m wrong, but I believe that this is your,” he pauses counting in his mind, “”fifth time being late in the last, oh I don’t know, week!” He slams his fist against my desk.

I jump at his sudden outburst, “I’m terribly sorry, sir,” I say, groveling at his feet, “But the traffic is just-”

He explodes, “Don’t give me your excuses, Dent!” Saying my name distastefully, “This is your last straw! One more screw up and you’re out of here!” His thumb shoots towards the door, and with that eruption he straightens his coat and exits the room, leaving me bewildered and confused.

I shuffle over to my window and look to the south tower rising next to me. I look up at the top of the building, craning my neck to stare at the elusive peak.

I really hate my boss sometimes… all the time. But at least… What is that?

Through the pane, I glimpse a plane diving towards the tower. Plummeting through the air in a strangely controlled dive.

What are you doing? You’re going to hit it. If it doesn’t pull up soon it might… no, it was going to…”

Realization and horror wipe over my face milliseconds before the impact.

“Boom!”

The plane crashes into the building with an immense force. A large fireball erupts from the skyscraper as the supports shatter and the entire, marvelous tower crumples to the ground, plummeting to the Earth.

I stare out the window, emergency vehicles and screams of pedestrians suddenly break the vacant, deathly silence. A sudden understanding of what just happened hits me like a wet towel. I stumble backward, away from the glass.

I start to hyperventilate. That plane was aiming for the building, it wasn’t just a coincidence. What if there is another airplane heading towards me right now, to take out this tower.

Something clicks in my mind, I run into the hallway. As soon as I reach the door, I hear just what I was fearing, the sound of a plane whizzing through the air towards this very building.

“Ka-Boom!”

I stumble as the tower shakes. I grab my desk for support. I turn and dash towards the stairs to escape. Running towards a fruitless tree, but still knowing that it was useless, I sprinted. Twenty feet, ten feet. Hope burns inside me, I am determined to survive. The stairs continue to grow closer, five feet. My faith invigorating me, I’m going to make it, I’m going to survive.

Something hits my head, darkness.

I wake with a start, jerking up. Immediately I feel the pain. Overwhelming pain, it blanketed me like a sea of magma. I scream and scream for what seems like hours, but slowly the pain subsides as I enter shock. I look down to find what had caused the terrible pain, and I see a small, slender spike sticking through my abdomen. Slowly I reach down to touch the rod. It was cold and slightly damp. From my blood. My blood. I throw up on myself.

The vomit is speckled with blood, which meant the metal had most likely torn my intestine. A wave of nausea hits me, I vomit again as my vision fades to darkness.

“Hey! Hey! Mark, are you okay? Hey!” I hear a voice, though my shock-induced stupor.

I slowly raise my head, “Hello?” I croak, then again a bit louder, “Hello?!”

I hear the same voice from my right, “Oh thank god, you're alive. It’s Cameron Shaw, from four offices down. I’ve been calling you for about an hour.

I smile a bit, glad someone’s with me, “Are you hurt?”

“No, my legs stuck under something. So I can’t move. Are you okay?”

Looking down at my stomach I say, “No, I have a piece of metal through my-” Another wave of nausea, another pile of sick, “A piece of metal my stomach.” I finish.

“Oh jeez, how can you even talk in that state. I would have passed out a while ago.”

“Well, I did.”

“Still kind of amazing.” He lets out a heartless laugh.

I chuckle along with him for only a few seconds before I entered a long coughing fit. Every hack shook my body with pain, spraying the floor with blood, my vision slightly darkens. After a minute or so my paroxysm passes, slowly I readjust myself back into my original position.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Cameron inquired, worriedly.

Pain still gasping me, I managed to answer, “ Yeah, I’m fine now, let’s just try not to laugh anymore.”

“Ok, I’ll try.” He confirms. “Wait did you hear that?”

I blink some spots out of my eyes, “No, what is-”

I hear him shush me and faintly I make out some men talking. Suddenly they start to leave, their footsteps echoing through the tunnel.

In the spur of the moment, Cameron starts to yell. Realizing what he’s doing I follow suit, screaming as loud as I can manage, ignoring the pain in my gut. At first, it seems hopeless, but I kept pushing I wouldn’t die here, I wouldn’t end like this.

“This isn’t where I die, this isn’t my f*cking ending,” I yell, enraged and exasperated, pain coursing through my body.

Spent I collapsed against the wall. And before I pass out I hear men yelling, “There’s people down there, get a team.”

A few minutes later I wake up, a stream of sunlight stretching in front of my eyes. Some ropes descend from the ceiling, followed shortly by some people. Through my clouded vision, I see them pull out flashlights and start to search.

They find Cameron first. I hear them call over some people. They take a jack and lift the rubble off of him, he’s brought over to the wires and pulled up to safety. Slowly they search the room for more citizens, slow my vision fades, and with every passing minute, I forget the pain. Finally, they find me, my sight just a pinprick of light.

I hear them worriedly talking to each other, “It’s attached to the floor… will need to pull him off of it… ok, three, two,”

I make a squeak of protest as soon as I realize what’s happening.

“One.”

They rip me off the spike, pain explodes through my body. I scream and scream until I pass out… for the last time.

* * *

Cameron Shaw steps up onto the stage in front of the casket.

He pulls out a piece of paper and starts, “Mark Shaw was a wonderful man, though I didn’t know him very well he was the bravest person I’ve ever known. He put his own life on the life to save someone he almost never noticed, he just… he was just so… so.” He breaks down, weeping. Someone comes up to lead him off the stage. He pushes them away and falls against the coffin crying for his companion. The sound echoing throughout the church.

THE END

Author's Note

If you have lost loved ones in the 9/11 attacks I want to address you. Your loved one was a wonderful person, though you may not be able to see them anymore you should still think back to the wonderful times you've had together. They will be remembered in our hearts.