the hands of fate
...d spending more time at my school anyway. With a deep dialect of Brooklyn’s twang, she said “ Mar (nick name for Mary) let’s meet at the R train and go to the city”. Without any hesitation, I sprang out of bed and got dressed. My mother, using her motherly six sense, asked me several times if “I was sure I was going to school”. I looked her straight in the eyes and lied. Our meeting spot was 86st, which was really risky because the cops were always on the lookout for cutting teenagers. It was our luck that we managed to get onto the train without any id checking. I remember thinking that the worst was over. Our friends were in Hunter College, so we decided to make a trip out there and surprise them. It was around 9:30 am and the trains were running extremely slow. We were only a few stops from Hunter. What could possibly go wrong now? An enormous crowd quickly merged into the train. A reeking smell, and pieces of garbage, along with papers were invited into the train. We were confused. The entire atmosphere on the train transformed. We started hearing the screams of people, and felt the tension in the air. The train doors remained open for a while. Everything was happening so fast, that without proper thought we ran out of the train station and into the real world. I don’t even remember were we were. Mobs of people running around, tourists holding hands, strangers crying on top of one another, and there we stood, young and lost. A business man with dust all over his face and a dirty suit stopped and asked if we needed help. Quick to answer we all replied “NO”. There was no way we would chance getting in trouble with our parents. Puzzled by the awkwardness surrounding us, we asked if something had happened. The words came out slowly, full of hesitation, and worry. His eyes were watery, and after a few breaths, he was strong enough to tell us. While speaking images of the of the planes crashing into the twin tower...