Sarah Breitenfeld

I gazed up and up, trying to focus my eyes on the top of the mountain. Disappearing into the distance, stretched rows of daunting steps. I clenched my father’s fingers in my small fists. I was determined to climb up the marble staircase and nothing could stop me now. I lifted my foot as high as it could go and leaned forward. It was too far; I would not be able to make it. But suddenly, I felt an unknown force push me onward and up my first step. When I looked behind me, over my father’s shoulder, I beheld my familiar companion, the twin towers of the World Trade Center, smiling down at me. I returned the grin and together, my father, the Twin Towers and I mounted all the marble steps of the Winter Garden.

That night I lay in my bed and gazed out my window. The blanket of reflected stars stretched out before me, fading into the sky. The day had been full of wonders and soon I was ready to fall asleep. In my head I wished the most important people in my life a good night. I thought of my mother, my father, the full moon and my constant friend, the World Trade Center.

*****

“All right Sarah, you have had a long day. It is time you got some sleep.” It was my first night in a new home. That day, my parents and I had crammed into a loaded car and had driven for hours. My mom had said that we were “moving”. I did not know what this word meant, but I was confident that my guardian would look after me the entire way. Now happily settled, I snuggled with my stuffed animals as my mother turned out the bedroom light.

“Goodnight Mom!” I murmured, “Goodnight Dad!” I looked out my window and gasped. I searched and stared, unable to believe my eyes. I knew then that the world was surely ending. I had never encountered anything so horrifying before in my short life. I tore off my covers and skidded downstairs.

“Mom!” I screeched, “Mommy!!!!!”

“What is it?” She started forward, panic-stricken. “Are you hurt?”

“Something’s wrong!” I shouted, taking her hand and dragging her upstairs, “Something is very wrong.” I threw open my door and pulled my mother in. She glanced wildly around looking for blood, fire or broken glass. Hearing my shouting, my Dad hurried in as well.

“What is it?”

“Well?”

They looked at me blankly.

I pointed to the shadow in the window and blurted out,

“There’s the moon, but where’s the World Trade Center?”