WORLD TRADE: FLIGHT 11
We arrive at Logan airport, awaiting American Airlines flight number 11, flying direct to L.A;
I sit in the airport lounge watching my Husband hold my beautiful sleeping Daughter, I can’t believe that she is 6 years old today.
The airport speakers announce “WOULD ALL PASSENGERS FLYING WITH AMERICAN AIRLINES ON FLIGHT 11 TO L.A.X, PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE GATE TO BOARD”;
I hold my Daughters hand, as towards the bright blue skies we soared.
The seatbelt light goes off, as my Daughter starts to draw our plane with wings, flying through the sky;
I ask her why her plane has wings, she giggles saying “silly Mummy, it’s not a plane, it’s a butterfly”.
I see my Husband smile, I whisper “I love you”;
He leans over our Daughter, kisses me gently, replying “I love you to”.
Just at that moment our life’s changed, as shouting cries echo through the cabin, bursting into our little family dream;
I could see 5 dark strangers attacking the cabin crew, knifes to their throats, as violent threats are the only reply to their scream.
My Husband picks our Daughter up, cuddling us closer together, as the mad men force their way into the cockpit, they are now in control of the plane;
A tear rolls down my cheek, as I look into the eyes of my little family I realize, from that very second our life’s would never again be the same.
My Husband pulls us both in closer, as I tremble “don’t worry baby, everything is going to be alright”;
I swallow the lump in my throat, as my Husband holds us both real tight.
Violent screams echo from the front of the plane, I glance around the cabin to see all shivering passengers crouched down on the floor;
I feel the plane swerve, changing its direction, as in my shaking arms I hold all what I adore.
As I hold onto my family, fear overwhelms my heart, a contemplation of just what was going to happen;
As I stare through the tiny window I frown, in the distance I can see a familiar skyline, its New York’s Lower Manhattan.
I shake my Husband with a trembling hand, stuttering “baby isn’t that New York”;
The plane starts descending through the skies, as my Daughter whispers “mummy why did the nasty men tell us all not to talk”.
Everything moves in slow motion, as through the window I see the World Trade Centre’s, towering high up into the skies;
The plane continues to descend from the heavens, as the cabin becomes filled with all the passengers panicking goodbyes.
I kiss my family with shaking lips, as panic overwhelms my soul with fear;
I tremble out “I love you” as from my eyes falls a final tear.
Just then the plane crashes straight into the unsuspecting tower,
I close my eyes, holding my family tight, as bright flames of light engulf our flight number 11;
This letter is dedicated to all the lost souls, for spending the last 10 years as angels up in heaven.
“YOU FLEW INTO HELL, NOW YOU WALK WITH ANGELS”
BARRY MOWLES ©2011