Categories > Original > Drama

Come Crashing Down

by FrankensteinsMorgue 0 reviews

Sepetember Eleventh through the eyes of victims.

Category: Drama - Rating: PG - Genres: Drama - Published: 2008-05-27 - Updated: 2008-05-28 - 813 words - Complete

Staring out that dengy window, the glassy surface just reflected the stitched skyline of massive buildings, none of which as massive as these two soldiers towering over the unknowing beings as if they were ants. The sky just looked so flushed, the light just looked so shattered, she felt like she was looking through chlorinated water with her eyes wide open... she just couldn't see through the grainy haze, but she didn't think much of it, just a regular day -minus the burning in her stomach.

That plane just looked so marvelous, skidding through the sky, cutting through the clouds. The very plane she was drawn to, pressed against the cold thin glass, a bit of air seeping around her fingertips from a tiny crack in the window.

But the plane flew low today... the plane flew close.
And that's when they screamed, the nose of the plane came diving toward her.

In that second she was blind, that's all it took, that one slivered second. That's when grains embedded themselves into her eyes, that's when unnatural objects protruded from her exposed organs and bones. That's when fire incinerated and devoured her dissolving flesh the way it chokes a fleck of defenseless oxygen.

The first mutilated body.

The elevators always opened and closed for him, it was almost systematic. They captured and then they released the way a child does with their fireflies in a mason jar...
But not every child has harmless intentions, it's their /killing jar/.

He never assumed that the lights would scribble out, he never even considered that the elevator would never make it to it's destination. He didn't think that when the fire alarm went off that it was anything more than a drill. It never came to mind that as a thunder broke and his body collided with the reflective icy wall that the building had been hit.

No, the shakes and sounds that echoed and vibrated through the walls like cannons couldn't actually be the floors caving in. He never stepped in an elevator thinking of it as a death camp.

The metal casing dropped, hurtling toward a cement ground some 50 floors below.
Leaving him a shell of cracked bones and swimming organs before it hit the bottom...

Another still corpse.

The old lady always lived a happy life, dedicated to the fact of out living as many as possible for she would never stoop to a level so low as unnatural death. Who cares if she was alone, slowly limping down the washed out Grey hall, her walker colliding with the white tile surface, her only source of comforting sound.

98 years was a prolonged life that people contradictorily might die for...
A billion scenes had flickered through her soft beady green eyes. A thousand surfaces had came in contact with her now worn and creasing skin. A million beings much like herself had danced into her view, evaporating from it seconds later as if they never had existed.
A trillion memories swelled through her weary brain quickly drying into place like candle wax. 98 years worth of experiences were worn on her thin dress of skin...
but that number was never enough.

Until she heard the roaring and shaking that corroded her surroundings, gaining speed as it advanced on her paralyzed 30th floor.

Looking out the open window, the radiating and glistening pavement never looked so appealing. Pushing away from her walker and leaning on the window ledge never felt so safe. Tumbling through the burning air never felt so freeing...

The ash caked pavement never felt so much like a coffin.

Another twisted shell.

The child had only seen 6 years of light,Only breathed six years of air, only held six years of images of his loving father who clutched him close, shaking for reasons the boy didn't understand. Buried beneath the seat of the plane where his father protectively shoved him...

It was only an airplane ride, just a simple airplane ride to go home and see his worried mother whose tears were cascading down her face as she watched the television in horror, the gun held firmly in place, kissing her temple.

The boy didn't understand but he saw his father stand up tall in defense.
He heard the cry of shear agony, the tearing of flesh which engraves into your memory with repetition, a sound that should never be heard. He heard the morbid thud before his eyes even processed the seance before him...
The tiny pupils of only six years seeing their last memory as they traveled the body of an empty corpse that once held a home for his father...
Grazing the canyon that was carved into his throat...

Another lifeless casing.

and all of this lay on a now broken city skyline...
The clock ticking thunderous with a sickening silence...
8:48 in the morning... and everything...
came crashing down
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