olih
Who says you can't go home?
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- Seen Apr 19, 2012
Hi all. Yes, I am writing a story, a oneshot to be exact. I'm pretty sure original stories are allowed, because I read the rules (yay!) and it said so. So there.
Summary: It's a memoir to 9/11. That's all I should tell you.
That Day, So Long Ago
I kicked the unyielding metal surface, hard. Echoing rattling beats bounced around, but only a few stragglers were there to hear it. Luckily, I didn't feel any pain through my thick, blue shoes.
"Argh! Why won't this thing open?"
I was going to be late going to be late going to be late late late!
People looked at me curiously as I kicked the damn thing again. They put their heads down and hurried on soon, though. I tried the combination again. 10-45-92. And... click, it went, satisfyingly, under my finger.
YES! I thought, but did not scream, because you have to use your 'inside voice' here. I stuffed my books in, took my books out (although it was Social Studies the first time and English the second) and slammed it shut. Hurry! Shuffling quickly down the hall, because you're not allowed to run here. There, the English room! The door, ominously shut. I shifted my grip on the large stack of binders. It was so heavy... Click went the handle just like the locker when I pushed down on it, swoosh went the door when I pushed it open, You're late again went the teacher when I tiptoed nervously into the room. I'm sorry, I won't be again, just my locker was jammed, but you should have gotten someone to help you!, there wasn't anybody, I'm sorry, won't happen again, okay good, now get to your seat. Everyone staring at me when I settled down and placed my books under the chair, landing with a heavy thump. It was uncomfortable, and I squirmed in my chair until the teacher resumed the lesson.
"Today, we will be learning about plagiarism."
Unconsciously, half the class groaned. Plagiarism had built itself such a reputation that people tended to avoid it, though more out of not wanting to hear another lecture than not wanting to get in trouble.
"Plagiarism is the act of taking another's ideas, works, and thoughts and claiming them as one's own, the most famous case of plagiarism is widely known, and we will be learning about it, but first why do you think people plagiarise, yes Alice, no, the other Alice, Alice T., what do you think?"
It. Was. BORING. I zoned out and found a mental reprieve in the ongoing little adventure I had in my mind. I was saving a beautiful princess from a fierce dragon. The beast swung his brute-like head, and opened its maw to breathe a flame of fire.
"Well, I think people plagiarise because they cannot meet the set deadline," Alice said in her chime-bells voice, lowering her raised hand primly to rest on top of her periwinkle colored binder.
"Very true, Alice!"
She beamed, exposing icy white teeth (dry ice, not water ice, because we learned in Science that dry ice is white) marred by pink and green braces. Teacher's pet.
I raised my arm high above my head, the majestic sword there glinting in the rays of the red sun. Its pure silver reflected in the dragon's malicious red eye, but it showed no fear. Fool! I charged towards it, not yelling, my face simply set in grim determination but confidence.
"Why else do you think people plagiarise?"
The ground was treacherous, the princess screaming (hmm, she looked suspiciously like a braces-less Alice), the dragon holding its ugly head high. I almost tripped, but I didn't, for I was the brave knight! And I would save her and claim glory!
"No one else has anything to offer? Do I need to start recruiting volunteers?"
Suddenly the adventure switched, because I wished for it to be so. Flying a plane was wonderful. Clouds wisp past your wings, and they feel like extensions of your being. To anyone else, to amateurs, all of the buttons and switches look like complicated death traps. I expertly flew my hands over the control panel, flying the plane as well, to switch out of auto-pilot because we were nearing New York City.
"Okay then, Logan, why else do you think people plagiarise?"
Logan the Barbarian--sorry, Logan Huster, slumped even more in his seat and scowled.
Scraping skyscrapers scraping sky, piercing the blue, more blue than the evil dragon's scales.
"Well, I, um... don't know..."
"What was that?"
People and cars flocked by underneath, so small!
"I mean, er, cause they're lazy?"
Stewardess Wanda hopped in, carrying a small tray of tea.
"Care for some, sir?"
"'Cause they're lazy?' I suppose so."
"No thanks. I have to do my duty."
"So, we shall investigate one of the most famous cases of plagiarism."
"My, sir, you are brave!"
She left in admiration at my incredibly brave deed. I refused comfort to do my job for the people! She announced it over the intercom, and passengers cheered and applauded my courage, some even with declarations of lov--
Okay, maybe that is taking it a bit far.
I was flying the plane, navigating skillfully through the tangled forest of steel. People gazed wonderingly out of windows as I glided by in my little graceful airplane. Hey look! The Chrysler building! And Lady Liberty, gift from France, right over there!
"And do you know what he plagiarised? He took copies of stories, and put them in his own articles!"
There was the airfield, a bit improbable among all the civilization, but it was my adventure, so there. I...
"I will pass out a sheet of paper with the exercise on it, on which you need to match the citation with the book. Please put your name, period, and the date on it."
A sickeningly yellow paper landed on my desk, flying along with the unnecessary force before I caught it as it almost fell off. There was a neat little line there, long but too small for my name. The name that people made fun of because it was ridiculously long and hard to pronounce. SHUT UP. Period 7, date, September 11... And signing off, putting 2001 in my blocky handwriting. Just another normal day, put on another normal piece of paper in another normal class. I sighed. Why couldn't a day be exciting for once?
I quickly matched them, it was easy, and returned to my adventure day-dream.
Pushing a button without even having to look at where it was, the wheels folded out. The runway, ground, was getting closer now. Closer... closer... We were half an inch off the ground, ready to touch down, and I maneuvered the plane to be even more straight than it was, a mistake here could--
"I apologize for the interruption," the voice on the PA system said sadly. Sadly? The mysterious, unidentifiable voice (probably just the assistant principal), who had announced so many early-leaving students, fire drills, and special events. What now? Surely not an unannounced practice fire drill? They'd tell us!
"We just got news. In New York City, there was a plane that flew into the World Trade Center."
The scrabbling of pencils stopped. We all looked up to stare at the little box where the magical voice was coming out of, telling us something out of a horror story. 'Flew into' sounds too calm.
Only later would I find out that they had announced this because a similar plane was flying close to us, so we had to evacuate. Only later.
Only later would I find out a lot of things, watch the videos, see the pictures. I didn't understand. "You'll get it when you're older." Hah. Yeah right. I still don't get it.
Summary: It's a memoir to 9/11. That's all I should tell you.
That Day, So Long Ago
I kicked the unyielding metal surface, hard. Echoing rattling beats bounced around, but only a few stragglers were there to hear it. Luckily, I didn't feel any pain through my thick, blue shoes.
"Argh! Why won't this thing open?"
I was going to be late going to be late going to be late late late!
People looked at me curiously as I kicked the damn thing again. They put their heads down and hurried on soon, though. I tried the combination again. 10-45-92. And... click, it went, satisfyingly, under my finger.
YES! I thought, but did not scream, because you have to use your 'inside voice' here. I stuffed my books in, took my books out (although it was Social Studies the first time and English the second) and slammed it shut. Hurry! Shuffling quickly down the hall, because you're not allowed to run here. There, the English room! The door, ominously shut. I shifted my grip on the large stack of binders. It was so heavy... Click went the handle just like the locker when I pushed down on it, swoosh went the door when I pushed it open, You're late again went the teacher when I tiptoed nervously into the room. I'm sorry, I won't be again, just my locker was jammed, but you should have gotten someone to help you!, there wasn't anybody, I'm sorry, won't happen again, okay good, now get to your seat. Everyone staring at me when I settled down and placed my books under the chair, landing with a heavy thump. It was uncomfortable, and I squirmed in my chair until the teacher resumed the lesson.
"Today, we will be learning about plagiarism."
Unconsciously, half the class groaned. Plagiarism had built itself such a reputation that people tended to avoid it, though more out of not wanting to hear another lecture than not wanting to get in trouble.
"Plagiarism is the act of taking another's ideas, works, and thoughts and claiming them as one's own, the most famous case of plagiarism is widely known, and we will be learning about it, but first why do you think people plagiarise, yes Alice, no, the other Alice, Alice T., what do you think?"
It. Was. BORING. I zoned out and found a mental reprieve in the ongoing little adventure I had in my mind. I was saving a beautiful princess from a fierce dragon. The beast swung his brute-like head, and opened its maw to breathe a flame of fire.
"Well, I think people plagiarise because they cannot meet the set deadline," Alice said in her chime-bells voice, lowering her raised hand primly to rest on top of her periwinkle colored binder.
"Very true, Alice!"
She beamed, exposing icy white teeth (dry ice, not water ice, because we learned in Science that dry ice is white) marred by pink and green braces. Teacher's pet.
I raised my arm high above my head, the majestic sword there glinting in the rays of the red sun. Its pure silver reflected in the dragon's malicious red eye, but it showed no fear. Fool! I charged towards it, not yelling, my face simply set in grim determination but confidence.
"Why else do you think people plagiarise?"
The ground was treacherous, the princess screaming (hmm, she looked suspiciously like a braces-less Alice), the dragon holding its ugly head high. I almost tripped, but I didn't, for I was the brave knight! And I would save her and claim glory!
"No one else has anything to offer? Do I need to start recruiting volunteers?"
Suddenly the adventure switched, because I wished for it to be so. Flying a plane was wonderful. Clouds wisp past your wings, and they feel like extensions of your being. To anyone else, to amateurs, all of the buttons and switches look like complicated death traps. I expertly flew my hands over the control panel, flying the plane as well, to switch out of auto-pilot because we were nearing New York City.
"Okay then, Logan, why else do you think people plagiarise?"
Logan the Barbarian--sorry, Logan Huster, slumped even more in his seat and scowled.
Scraping skyscrapers scraping sky, piercing the blue, more blue than the evil dragon's scales.
"Well, I, um... don't know..."
"What was that?"
People and cars flocked by underneath, so small!
"I mean, er, cause they're lazy?"
Stewardess Wanda hopped in, carrying a small tray of tea.
"Care for some, sir?"
"'Cause they're lazy?' I suppose so."
"No thanks. I have to do my duty."
"So, we shall investigate one of the most famous cases of plagiarism."
"My, sir, you are brave!"
She left in admiration at my incredibly brave deed. I refused comfort to do my job for the people! She announced it over the intercom, and passengers cheered and applauded my courage, some even with declarations of lov--
Okay, maybe that is taking it a bit far.
I was flying the plane, navigating skillfully through the tangled forest of steel. People gazed wonderingly out of windows as I glided by in my little graceful airplane. Hey look! The Chrysler building! And Lady Liberty, gift from France, right over there!
"And do you know what he plagiarised? He took copies of stories, and put them in his own articles!"
There was the airfield, a bit improbable among all the civilization, but it was my adventure, so there. I...
"I will pass out a sheet of paper with the exercise on it, on which you need to match the citation with the book. Please put your name, period, and the date on it."
A sickeningly yellow paper landed on my desk, flying along with the unnecessary force before I caught it as it almost fell off. There was a neat little line there, long but too small for my name. The name that people made fun of because it was ridiculously long and hard to pronounce. SHUT UP. Period 7, date, September 11... And signing off, putting 2001 in my blocky handwriting. Just another normal day, put on another normal piece of paper in another normal class. I sighed. Why couldn't a day be exciting for once?
I quickly matched them, it was easy, and returned to my adventure day-dream.
Pushing a button without even having to look at where it was, the wheels folded out. The runway, ground, was getting closer now. Closer... closer... We were half an inch off the ground, ready to touch down, and I maneuvered the plane to be even more straight than it was, a mistake here could--
"I apologize for the interruption," the voice on the PA system said sadly. Sadly? The mysterious, unidentifiable voice (probably just the assistant principal), who had announced so many early-leaving students, fire drills, and special events. What now? Surely not an unannounced practice fire drill? They'd tell us!
"We just got news. In New York City, there was a plane that flew into the World Trade Center."
The scrabbling of pencils stopped. We all looked up to stare at the little box where the magical voice was coming out of, telling us something out of a horror story. 'Flew into' sounds too calm.
Only later would I find out that they had announced this because a similar plane was flying close to us, so we had to evacuate. Only later.
Only later would I find out a lot of things, watch the videos, see the pictures. I didn't understand. "You'll get it when you're older." Hah. Yeah right. I still don't get it.