I am a skeptic and I try not to read too much into anything. But entering my teen years, I started to notice I would have ESP moments or sense certain things. We all do, to some extent, and I would shrug them off as coincidences, but when they would happen more frequently and against the odds, it would start to get a little freaky. I ignored them, and thought little of it, and in the end it was probably nothing.
I'm from a suburb, only 15 minutes from Boston. I have lived here my whole life. My father even designed a terminal at Logan Airport years back. I had only been to Manhattan a few brief times in my life, the last being in 1998. I hadn't got into the towers ever, though I'm sure I saw them from a distance.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, I got up very early to get ready for school. My mom got ready for work and we both got on the car so she could drop me off.
After homeroom, I proceeded to my 8:20 a.m. class: English. Everyone had a small presentation to give, and my partner and I were to go on nearly last. A majority of the class went along smoothy. I was alert, focused, and it felt like a regular day... until the last 15 minutes of the class. I started to feel withdrawn. Maybe I was just sleepy, and I remember hardly speaking during my presentation, I wasn't even thinking about the presentation, I was spaced a little.
That was all. I sat down and continued to watch the remaining presentations.
Then, during the last few minutes of the class, all of a sudden, I got this jolt of fear in my gut. Everything from that moment on felt like slow motion. I sat there, my eyes fixed, for this feeling inside was overwhelming and I couldn't help it.
I remember these exact thoughts: Something is wrong. I don't know what. Is something wrong with my family? No... that's not it... Maybe it is... but something is wrong and I can't control it. And there's nothing to be done about it. I don't know what, where, who, or how... but it's bad.
I can't explain this feeling, I had never had anything this strong happen to me before. Soon the bell sounded, and it was time for me to go to my next class. The English classroom was on one end of the hallway and my next class was on the other end.
I remember slowly walking down the hall, and this alarm in my head was going off. Me being a teenager, I'm thinking, If I'm having this feeling, it must have something to do with me.... But that didn't seem like it. I can remember this feeling so distinctly, and I was thinking while looking at other kids in the hall, They don't know... they don't know....
I was feeling as though something was to unfold and nothing would be the same. These were my exact thoughts, without any exaggerating. The feeling was so overwhelming that I had to shrug it off because I couldn't handle it.
I entered my next class with that feeling lingering, but I had to ignore it. It felt like foreboding and evil. Two hours later, I saw my history teacher holding a piece of paper, and I said under my breath, "This is it...." And for all I knew the paper in his hand could be anything. And then we found out what had happened.
We found out at about 10:30 a.m. For some reason I didn't put two and two together until later, and when I did, it gave me chills, because realistically, the feeling I felt matched the events that occurred.
Eleven years later, I still remember that feeling. I remember where I sat. I remember feeling as though a million voices were shouting, "Nooo" in my head, an alarming feeling just saying, Bad... bad... something bad... something really, really bad...!
The way I look at it, is not a coincidence this time. I remembered the class ended at 9:01, right around the time the sharp, fearful feeling struck me, and right when the second plane hit the south tower. I never had a feeling like that again.
RIP to all the victims and families. Turns out a lot of the victims in the planes were from around my area. Betty Ong and Madeline Sweeny lived only a few miles from me.
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I'm from a suburb, only 15 minutes from Boston. I have lived here my whole life. My father even designed a terminal at Logan Airport years back. I had only been to Manhattan a few brief times in my life, the last being in 1998. I hadn't got into the towers ever, though I'm sure I saw them from a distance.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, I got up very early to get ready for school. My mom got ready for work and we both got on the car so she could drop me off.
After homeroom, I proceeded to my 8:20 a.m. class: English. Everyone had a small presentation to give, and my partner and I were to go on nearly last. A majority of the class went along smoothy. I was alert, focused, and it felt like a regular day... until the last 15 minutes of the class. I started to feel withdrawn. Maybe I was just sleepy, and I remember hardly speaking during my presentation, I wasn't even thinking about the presentation, I was spaced a little.
That was all. I sat down and continued to watch the remaining presentations.
Then, during the last few minutes of the class, all of a sudden, I got this jolt of fear in my gut. Everything from that moment on felt like slow motion. I sat there, my eyes fixed, for this feeling inside was overwhelming and I couldn't help it.
I remember these exact thoughts: Something is wrong. I don't know what. Is something wrong with my family? No... that's not it... Maybe it is... but something is wrong and I can't control it. And there's nothing to be done about it. I don't know what, where, who, or how... but it's bad.
I can't explain this feeling, I had never had anything this strong happen to me before. Soon the bell sounded, and it was time for me to go to my next class. The English classroom was on one end of the hallway and my next class was on the other end.
I remember slowly walking down the hall, and this alarm in my head was going off. Me being a teenager, I'm thinking, If I'm having this feeling, it must have something to do with me.... But that didn't seem like it. I can remember this feeling so distinctly, and I was thinking while looking at other kids in the hall, They don't know... they don't know....
I was feeling as though something was to unfold and nothing would be the same. These were my exact thoughts, without any exaggerating. The feeling was so overwhelming that I had to shrug it off because I couldn't handle it.
I entered my next class with that feeling lingering, but I had to ignore it. It felt like foreboding and evil. Two hours later, I saw my history teacher holding a piece of paper, and I said under my breath, "This is it...." And for all I knew the paper in his hand could be anything. And then we found out what had happened.
We found out at about 10:30 a.m. For some reason I didn't put two and two together until later, and when I did, it gave me chills, because realistically, the feeling I felt matched the events that occurred.
Eleven years later, I still remember that feeling. I remember where I sat. I remember feeling as though a million voices were shouting, "Nooo" in my head, an alarming feeling just saying, Bad... bad... something bad... something really, really bad...!
The way I look at it, is not a coincidence this time. I remembered the class ended at 9:01, right around the time the sharp, fearful feeling struck me, and right when the second plane hit the south tower. I never had a feeling like that again.
RIP to all the victims and families. Turns out a lot of the victims in the planes were from around my area. Betty Ong and Madeline Sweeny lived only a few miles from me.
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