It was a bright day.
I was woken up by my mother telling me that John was on the phone. She also told me that I better get down and look at the TV. I looked at Olivia, barely a month old, and picked up the phone. John was telling me about the first building being hit. I got up and ran downstairs, just with enough time to see the second plane hit the other tower. I have never known fear like that.We were living in Boston at the time, the place were the terrorist had boarded two of the planes, the city was shaken, to say the least. Aside from the noise from the bomber planes and helicopters flying so low you could actually read what they said there was no other noise. It was an eery silence, it was like a scene from The Twilight Zone, time had stopped. All the sudden the news said that they were looking for a white van that had left the airport and had traveled up Hwy. 93, towards our area. At the same time another fighter plane went over the house, I ran as fast as I could and closed all the windows, shut the blinds, and sat there and cried.
The scene would not get any better in Boston. Everyday the police were looking all over the city for traces of the terrorist and when something was found it was a reminder that the enemy had been walking among us just a few days earlier.
Could 9/11 of been prevented? No. Will another attack happen again? Yes. The enemy is already here walking among us.
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