This nightmare begins in the middle of the night. Thunder peals and lightning flashes implode my bedroom. Sweat pouring through the mutilated pores of my body. Screams. Stuck in my throat. Agony. I wander alone through the valley which was once the WTC. Now just a huge empty lot, almost sterile in its sleep. I wander through the valley and find a group of children. I wish to help them. Come out. Come out of the darkness, of the hell you have found. "We are the dead. We perished in the inferno. We are dead. Dead? I don't seem to understand. I grab one of their hands, a cold hand, loose to my grip. I try to move him, but the child just stares at me immobilized by the horror of the lights, the strange wicked lights that obscess the scene. My blood freezes in my veins. I am powerless, just a man going down in quicksand, wanting only to forget. I awake trembling in the night. I take a cold shower. The storm is over for now. Or is it? Then I think, what new horrors have they conceived in their evil minds? How many more children will they destroy before their madness turns on them?

The wind blows through my bathroom window and I hear a shriek. And I remember.