A Choice Of Enemies
It was just like any other usual day. That was on the 11th September, 2009 when the United States of America was faced with a historic terrorist attack. That same day I was expecting for the return of my father from his overseas trip. I was belatedly looking for the reunion that comes with privileges like going to the museum with him. The plane he was aboard was supposed to touch down in the early hours of September the eleventh. We were to rise early and go to the airport to pick him up little did we know what had in store for us.
It happened early in the morning when I was still in my bedroom tossing in my bed raring to get up and head to the airport when I heard sound of someone crying. At first I thought may be it was a dream but it persisted on. I got out of the bed faster and headed to the main room only to find my mother in her night dress leaning against the couch, with hands covering her mouth. She burst into hysteria and uncontrollable crying. It took me a few seconds to figure out what was the problem for there on each news channel there was the headline; the united states of America under terrorist attack.
I moved closer to my mother and she placed her arms around my shoulder and looked up in my eyes. Incidentally, I knew she bore unpleasant news. She tried to recollect herself and briefly she explained to me that the flight which my dad was aboard had been hijacked by the terrorists and it had been directed to the twin towers at the world trade centre. It burst into flames on the impact that brought down the building. I was not listening to her last words as it seemed too untrue. I thought there must be a mistake, it could not happen to our family and my father was not aboard the ill fated plane. It turned out to be true; my beloved father was aboard the plane.
My schoolmates, friends and relatives were truly supportive during the period. I was so affected by the tragedy that even after his burial I could not manage to close my eyes to sleep. I refused to believe and mulled at the cruelty of life and the remorseless actions of the terrorists. Every time we watched news, the only bulletins was about the strike on the American soil, the terrorists being hold up in the middle east and the war in the Afghanistan.
It took the intervention of my mother who appeared to be stronger than me, with the help of family friends and relatives to assist me to come to terms. I was taken for counseling by my mother. The session helped me in overcoming the loss and pay attention in my studies but still I could feel the loss all around me. We moved from the state and stayed with my grandparents in order to forget the memories. It is not an easy task to let go the memories of someone so dear to you.
I have had a difficult time in accepting it although at least I am now steady and can not lapse into nostalgia, every moment the name of the terrorists or Afghanistan is mentioned, I am taken back to the very time the attack took place. After completing my college, i will join the army and hope to be given a chance to protect my motherland from the terrorists with the extreme ideologies.
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