Nothing

The engine gives out and we’re about to crash. I guide the plane as best I can and brace for impact. Then there’s blackness.

When I wake, Ted has a blank stare, and his head is twisted in an awkward position. He’s dead.

The bone in my left ankle is protruding from the skin and I’m having trouble breathing. I’m sure I’ve ruptured my ribs.

The door is jammed and I can’t walk. The airplane will soon explode and there’s nowhere to go. I say a silent prayer and close my eyes.

There’s a crackling noise, flames and then nothing.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Houdini

I heard a story once about Houdini. He took a flight on one of the first airplanes as part of a promotional stunt. Houdini was to be chained in the cockpit and the pilot would jump out in a parachute. He'd then have to escape the chains and land the plane safely. He'd never even flown before.

The plane ended up crashing, and both the pilot and Houdini were killed, with Houdini's corpse still chained up. But then a week later Houdini was spotted performing at the Regent Theatre, Salford.

I suspect that wasn't the real Houdini on that plane.

Mammoth

An airplane soars into the mammoth building, leaving a gaping hole. Blackness, dust, and papers fill the air.

Angels fall and my heart beats quickly not knowing what to do. I pace the floor with the others, stunned, quiet, unable not to watch. The sirens pierce our ears, and we stare at one another.

The phones ring with panicking family members crying that a second plane has crashed into the other building. I drop the phone when the fire drill alarms. The sky darkens and we head to the staircase not knowing our fate.

The World Trade Center is no more.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher