It started out like any other day. I had moved to Sterling, VA a few months ago. Our apt complex was in the flight path of several planes from Dulles, a mere 15 minutes away. I was temping at a company that designed flight simulators. It was just another day to make money.
Then chaos. I first found about it when the boy called and told me to check the internet or find a tv. One of the Towers had been hit. I couldn't believe it but when I FINALLY got on the net, there it was. The internet was impossibly clogged and slow and it was next to impossible to make a call. I was right by Dulles, so everyone was freaking out. It took me an hour to reach my parents to let them know I was ok.
No one knew for sure what was going on. Rumors were flying- were there more planes? One hijacked plane was supposed to be in the area heading towards DC. We all rushed out because rumor had it wad from Dulles.
Then we heard about the second tower. And the Pentagon. We couldn't believe the Pentagon got hit. And then I saw the video of the towers falling. It was surreal. No one really could believe it. They wouldn't let us go home because no one I worked with thought it was important. Oh how that changed the next day when the FBI swarmed the place, looking for info on flight simulators.
One of my friends lived across 395 from the Pentagon. I went to his apartment the next evening and just stared in shock at the smoke and the gaping hole. It was just surreal.
And then the silence. The awful silence of no planes. Living under flight paths you got used to the noise of the jets. And then nothing. It wasn't right.