I Survived 9/11 Novels & Stories

" I take several moments to think about this. What did change? This morning I was curled up in bed refusing to eat, speak, or bathe, and now I'm fed, clean, and I've answered more questions in one sitting than I think I've ever answered in my life. And more importantly, I finally did it. I finally told them everything about what happened that night. I didn't have a panic attack and die, though it seemed like a very possible outcome of this afternoon. I didn't dissolve into tears and wracking sobs, though tears were brimming through most of it and a catch in my throat constantly threatened to close up my airway. I did it. This big thing that I've been afraid of doing for over a year now. I fo

I could bet there were bruises all over my face… I closed my eyes and quickly opened them as the images from the horrific moments appeared. One might think I had experienced enough traumatic events in my life to deal with Riley's attack with ease, but the probability of dying had never felt more real than at the moment Riley had his hands on me… “I survived,” I murmured. “He is gone, and I survived.” I kept repeating the same sentence over and over again. Saying it gave me a tiny ounce of strength, and I needed it. Otherwise, I would fall apart…

It has been five years. Five whole years. I survived things other than Victor's words. I survived leaving New York by myself. I survived being pregnant with no help. I survived nights and fear. I survived raising Aria while rebuilding my life from nothing. I survived all of that. So why did one sentence from him still hurt much? The elevator. I stepped out really fast before anybody noticed the tears in my eyes. The office floor was buzzing with conversations and ringing phones. Everything sounded really far away. It was all. Muffled. I walked straight to my office without looking at anybody.

Not the same person I was before, but someone new who'd survived something and come out the other side. I could live with that.

Dropped her tablet. "You're—" Her voice cracked. "You're dead. You were—the cascade failure—" "I survived." I kept my voice gentle. Non-threatening. "I came back. But I need to talk to you about what IQRD did. About what you helped them do." Her face went white. She looked around frantically. Checking for exits. For security. For escape. "Please don't run," I said. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to give you choice."

I needed to find out why the man who promised to protect me was suddenly silent when the world fell apart. "One more time, Grant," I whispered, redialing. "Pick up the damn phone." Nothing but the automated greeting. The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out into the chaos of the lobby, my mind already mapping the route to the Ridge. I wasn't just a scout anymore. I was a survivor. And survivors don't go down without a fight.

I'd been stupid. "I'm not that person anymore," I said. "I can see that." Something in his expression shifted. "You're stronger now. Harder." "I had to be." "Tell me what happened," he said. "After the fall. How did you survive?" I didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to relive those terrifying moments in the water, the cold certainty that I was dying, the shock of waking up in Fatima's house weeks later. But maybe he needed to know. Maybe it mattered.

I nodded. "I will. I know you think i'm strong, but I had no choice but to pick up the pieces of me and keep on moving forward because time wouldn't stop to just let me grieve or sort things out. I had no choice but to fake that i was alright although I felt like the world was crashing down around me." He clutched my hand in his again.

I have to protect this woman who feels more like family than the ones I never met. I haven't understood how it happened. One moment I was in a taxi with a woman and the other I found myself on a deathbed. How I survived that bomb is a damn miracle. It seemed as if neither God nor the Devil wanted me anywhere near them, that is why I am still alive, I guess.

Only one contact saved on it: Number 1—him. I tapped the screen, and it began to ring, but then I'm an instant I ended the call. I wasn't ready yet. I shouldn't be talking. I can't be. That's the only way to survive. That's the way I survived. My lips parted, voice barely above a whisper. “I can do this!“ I spoke softly. This was the second time in years I had spoken aloud—and even now, it sent chills down my spine. A strange thrill pulsed through me. Ever since the accident, everything had changed.