This is basically my other story but a better version... I hope. I like criticism as well. Please Enjoy ( ps. I don't mean to offend anyone in this story ) -------------------------------- It all started when I was at the age of three years old, that year was 2001
------------------------------------ It all started in the year 2001, I was three years old and i was on holiday in New York. I was there with my grandad, my mum and dad and my nan. It was Tuesday the 9th of September. I remember we were walking past two identical towers at the time when two planes flew across our heads. People started shouting out as the planes started heading towards one of the towers. I remember my Mum saw a toddler wandering into the towers as the planes made impact, she ran towards the child followed by my dad. My grandad grabbed me and ran to the over side of the road we were followed by my nan. Before I could scream out my mothers name the first floor ceiling caved in. My Nan passed out and my grandad froze. I just watched as the fire engines, ambulances and the police cars pulled up...
--------------------------- I thrashed in bed as thoose visions crept into my dreams, I would always be sweating from so much worrying and suffering. It's been 6 months since the terrorist attack, that all the grown ups called the 911. I was now living with my nan and grandad, my mum and dad were squashed by the ceiling of the first floor. I remember crying solidly for 2 weeks after the event, even though I don't really get the reason they killed all those people, was there any point...