A young boy copes with the death of his father. His father, Assad, died in the terrorist attacks in New York City, New York, on September 11, 2001. The family emigrated to the United States only a year before from Pakistan.
Mother and I are the only ones alive in my family. I did have a father, but Father died in a terrorist attack in New York City, New York, on September 11, 2001. He was coming in to see us from Boston, Massachussetts (where he lived and worked; Mother and Father were divorced) when the plane they were on was hijacked and crashed into one of the World Trade Center Towers. He was killed instantly (but it took a few days later to find that out).
I am not doing well at all since then. I can't sleep at night, and I often have terrible nightmares. All I ever see when I close my eyes are the terrible images that were shown on television over and over again, and I still find myself not eating as well as I should. Just the mention of Father's name is enough to nauseate me. I still find myself crying because I can't understand the reasoning behind the attacks; and we left Pakistan because of violence and hatred; and then we come here, and my father is killed by hatred and violence. And for what? Being an American, and living in the land of the free was all he had done when he was killed by foreign terrorists.
I cannot understand the reasons behind why people hate America so much. In America, you can be anything you want to be, and if you want to go to school or better your lot in life, you can. And you can wear whatever you want, and say whatever you want (MOST of the time) without worrying of getting shot or killed or in trouble; and in my part of the world, where I come from, you can't do that. In Pakistan, we are not free, and the people there have no rights (especially the women). In America, everyone matters (or so I thought), and everyone has at least some chance of making it in life.
I oftentimes wish September 11, 2001, didn't happen; and I wish we could go back to life the way it was BEFORE the terrorist attacks. Now it is 2003, and some terrorists HAVE been caught; but now war is looming, and people are scared and afraid, and I am so afraid what may happen.
God help America, and God help her people (and THIS coming from a Muslim boy!! :) )!! :(
touching, heartbreaking write...as adults, it's hard to cope with the loss of a parent. as a child...i can't imagine...thank you for writing this...(((HUGS))) and love, karla. be grateful we have each other, and daddy's still alive...
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