twelve years ago.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was a freshman at K-State. I was living in the dorms, and I was still asleep when my mom called. She was a little frantic... and I had only been on my own a couple weeks. She called me moments after the second plane hit. She had considered calling to tell me sooner, but had hesitated. Once the second plane hit, she and everyone else up watching knew what was happening was not random.

I was alone that morning. My roommate was staying over with her new boyfriend, and I didn't know what to do with myself when my mom and I got off the phone. I felt restless. I needed to tell someone, but I also wanted to watch a little more before I went door to door waking up strangers! I called my roommate. Her and her boyfriend's sleepy reaction made me feel a little silly for calling. I ended up getting dressed for class, but I decided to stop by my RA's room and Annie & Annie's room on my way out. They had not heard and thanked me for stopping.

I was in Sociology 101 at 9:30am. My teacher came in on his bicycle. He lectured. Nothing was mentioned. I remember feeling really uncomfortable that class was going on like any other day. I remember feeling like I was definitely NOT in high school anymore. School would have stopped, TVs turned on, worried kids would have called family. Nope. Not in college. We were adults. (I also was convinced by the end of class that our professor didn't know what was happening, and he would surely apologize in our next class. Nope.)

After class I returned to my dorm, which had changed drastically in the last hour from sleepy hallways to lots of movement - girls were talking on phones, talking to one another, and sitting close together in front of tvs, with all the doors open - open, because we were no longer strangers.

Wherever you were, I am sure your story stays with you as well. My story isn't special, or even noteable. But, I will always remember.