"There are so many quotes about love. How love is a special thing, how it can break ones apart, or bring ones together. How love can turn a world completely upside down, and then it's all downhill from there. But I never needed to read any sayings from various famous authors to fill my idea of this emotion. No, because when asked at the age of sixteen what was love to me, I simply said 'Micah Christopher Mills'. Love was neatly centered into middle of his tongue as he spoke to me, love was beneath the curve as his lips as he smiled, love was between the creases that formed around his eyes as he laughed. Love to me, was him. All of him. And on September 11, 2001, I lost it all. "

Date: Saturday/August 7th/2001

Time: 11:07 AM

[One month and three days before 9.11.01]
--------------------------------------------------
"So, is New York, as new York-y as you thought it would be?" I heard Micah laugh at the other end of my phone.

"Uhm, Sarah-bear, you are aware that the word New York-y, is not actually a word?"

I purse my lips, making a face, as if my friend weren't actually 900 miles away from me and he was sitting across from me and could see my playful look of disapproval.

"You know what I mean." I reply.

Micah sighed.

"New York is, well, it's a lot different from Chatsworth Illinois, that's for sure. No one smiles at you in the street, they just push past you and the waitress at restraunts don't greet you with a pleasing what can I you guys? It's more like, what do you want?"

Micah sighed. "But I dunno, I don't mind the crowded subway or s***ty coffee."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too." Micah replied.

I pictured him smiling ear to ear.

He was perfect, in every single way.

"I know a year seems like a long time, but I'll back to you soon enough, Sarah."

Micah recently moved to Manhattan, New York to live with his father, Mason Mills.

Mason mills was part owner of one of New York's finest restaurants, A Window in the World. The fancy restaurant is located on the top floor, (the 107th floor to be exact) of the Twin towers.

Needless to say, Mr. Mills was a rich man.

Micah planned on working with his father and saving up money until his nineteeth birthday which is in ten 1/2 months, and then we're going to start our life together.

It sounds crazy, with us being so young and all but I've known Micah a good portion of my life, and I don't know what it would be like not to have him in my life.

I mean now, of course, due to the fact he is 7 states away from me, he's not technically in my life, physically, per say, but he's always on my mind, and when I'm not busy, or he's not busy, I'm on the phone with him, discussing every topic known to man.

"I just want you to know I'm so lucky to have you-"

"Sarah, I gotta go. I love you." Micah cut me off but it's okay, I guess.

"I love you too, always."

"Always."

Click.

Date: Tuesday/September 13/2001

Time: 4:00 AM

[Two days after 9.11.01]
-------------------------------------------------

I think life is a big dream. And one day I'll wake up, relived that whatever I thought was going on, actually was just all in my head. Everything will no longer be a big cloud that just hovers over me.

I guess there are somethings we will never know.

What's the point of living? And this question isn't coming from the typical "depressed girl going to kill herself" point of view but from a girl who honestly is curious. I feel like everything would be so much easier if we had someone that told us our destiny, what we're supposed to be, what our we're supposed to fulfil in our life time.

I wouldn't even mind the alternative universe where everyone was a peasant and at the age of 15, you had to randomly choose a peice of a paper out of a bucket, and on the paper, it would tell you what your job is going to be the rest of your life. Anywhere from potato peeler, to a teacher, to the person who worked on pipes.

I don't think I'd mind that. Everything would already be mapped out for you, no worrying rather you'll get into that dream college, or if that diner on the corner is ever going to call you back because you really need the job; no waking up in the middle of the night, finding yourself thinking "what the actual f*** am I doing with my life", because the life you're meant to live is chosen.

Date: Tuesday/August 14/2001

Time: 11:17 AM

[Four weeks before 9.11.01]
-------------------------------------------------

Micah hasn't called me the whole day, and that worries me.

I know he's probably doing business stuff with Mason, and I sound selfish but I wish he'd at least send me a text or something.

I stopped by his mothers house today, just to talk.

Lindsay offered me some tea. I had a cup even though I honestly hate tea.

She asked me how I was doing, how school was going, and how much I missed her son.

I sighed. "I miss Micah, so much."

Lindsay nodded and placed her cup of ginger tea on her nice expensive glass table.

"Me and Micah were never... too close, I'm sure you know," Lindsay said, moving her manicured nails as she talked, "but I love Micah, even when we argued constantly about nonsense."

I was aware of the situation between my boyfriend and his mother. It was true, they rarely got along with each other, which added to the reasons why he decided to move with his father.

Also, most of the time when they were fighting it had to do with the amount of men Lindsay had in and out of the house.

Micah got tired of going into the kitchen in the morning and finding random shirtless men raiding the fridge or catching them very late at night, attempting to sneak out the back door. But everytime Micah caught them.

For Micah's eighteenth birthday, I baked him a cake.

I'm not the best cook but it's the thought that counts.

Micah woke up one morning and found that half of the cake I made him had been eaten by Chris, Lindsay's boyfriend at the time.

Micah flipped.

"Who the f*** do you think you are?" He shouted.

"Uh," was all Chris could manage to say.

"My girlfriend made that for me, f***er!"

And then he lunged at Chris.

And they started fighting on the kitchen floor.

I bet that sounds silly, that Micah kicked this guys ass over freaking cake.

But according to Micah, it was much more than that.

Later that night, he came over and he told me about it.

We were laying down beside each other on my bed, my rested head on his shoulder.

"I don't even think it's the sleazy boyfriends I'm so mad at. I could care less if they drink the rest of the orange juice, or leave the damn toilet seat up or don't flush. It's not even that." Micah said, wrapping his arm around my hip.

"It's my mom I'm so mad at," he continued. "Her and dad split up a year ago, after a long marriage and here she is f***ing every guy she meets. It's like she never even loved him. And I just got off the phone with Mason, and he admitted he still loves mom! He still loves her after..."

And then Micah ranted on and on. I traced his chest with the tip of my finger as he kept venting. I didn't mind. I just listened.

I was suddenly brought out of my trip down my memory lane.

"So, do you?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

Micah's mom repeated herself.

"Travis is coming over, do you mind?"

Translation: Travis is coming over and we are going to have sex. Get the hell out of my house.

"I actually have some homework to finish, Ms. Lindsay. Thanks for having me over and thanks for the tea."

I hurried out her house, got into my car, and headed home, which was just a street away.

As I was making a left turn, a nice sports car sped past me, almost causing me to wreak.

F***ing prick.

I got a quick glance of the asshole driver.

It was Travis.

I rolled my eyes.

Out of all the boyfriends Micah has had to deal with, he disliked Travis the most.

Travis is a little older than Micah, only by four years.

I would find it weird and uncomfortable if my mom was seeing someone who could her son.

And especially if they were sleeping together.

Besides the odd age difference between Micah's mother and her boyfriend, Micah also did not get along with Travis because Travis is what you call an A Class Asshole.

The asshole of all assholes.

Travis always dressed in khakis and nice ironed button downs, or Polo's.

His (also expensive name brand) hat was wore backwards, and a diamond stud was placed in his ear.

Travis drove a Chrysler Crossfire, that his parents purchased for him, of course.

If that doesn't give the best definition of asshole than I don't know what does.

I pulled into my driveway with Micah still on my mind.

I miss his scent, a mixture of a candy and his cologne, and how he'd always play with my hair.

When he came over, and I'd end up falling asleep, I'd wake up numerous times from my nap to find Micah just running his fingers through my hair.

"Sorry," he'd grinned when he'd realize he woke me up.

"I really don't do that consciously Sarah, I swear. It's a habit."

Before drifting off back to sleep, I nod, knowing it's true. I do the exact same thing.

When we're in public, I'd find myself grabbing Micah's hand, or wrapping my arm around his waist.

Or when Micah and I are watching television or a movie, I'd rub his back,

I won't even think about it; it happens almost automatically.

My friends tell me, Micah and I are too close.

"You two know each other inside out," Jennifer told me one day, then added, "and that's not a sex joke."

I wrinkled my nose at my perverted best friend. "Oh gross, Jen."

Jennifer giggled and went on.

"It's like you two are one. You guys walk the same steps, laugh alike, enjoy the same things, from your favorite music to food."

I shrugged.

Jennifer eyed me for a few seconds.

"I think you two are soul mates."

I snort a laugh.

Micah and I do not believe in that type of thing.

I told Jennifer this.

Jen pursed her lips. "I'm just saying Sarah. You've known each other for years. You can't go too long without talking or seeing Micah."

I opened my mouth to protest but I realized, Jennifer was right.

It's not that I'm needy or clingy or super dependent on Micah.

We can go all day without contacting each other, and the only time we talk is when we're on the phone late at night, telling each other goodnight and we love you.

I'm completely content with that.

We go spend the whole day together, and I'll sleep over at Micah's or vice versa.

I'm also completely content with that.

As long at the end of everything, I know Micah will still be bymy side, alive and breathing, I'm fine.

But now that Micah actually is gone, in New York, I realize Micah and I were very close, weirdly close.

Hell, maybe Jennifer was right.

Micah is my soulmate.

Date: Friday/September 28th/2001

Time: 3:46 PM

[Two weeks and three days after 9.11.01]
-------------------------------------------------

There are different beliefs of what happens to people when we die.

Some people believe in heaven and hell.

Some people believe we just die. And that's it.

Julius Von Mayer stated that energy cannot be created or destroyed, only change forms.

I like that theory the most.

It creates the idea of possibilities, that life is just a big cycle that keeps going on and on.

So, with that, do we really die?

When ones life is gone, can they change into a flower or a bumble bee? A spider, perhaps?

You can call me crazy, but ever since Micah left there's this black spider that just sits on my ceiling and he hangs on his little web he created.

I wake in the morning and the spider is gone, but every night he is back.

I'm scared to kill it. What if it's him? But just in a different form?

I talk to the spider, pretend it's really Michah, and I feel a little better but I also feel completely insane.

Truth is, I don't think anyone is fully sane to start with, so to say I'm feeling insane isn't a major step up from my current mindset.

I think.

Date: Friday/September 28th/2001

Time: 11:28 PM

[Two weeks and three days after 9.11.01]
-------------------------------------------------

The spider is back.

I got up to go to the bathroom, I come back and I discover it's created yet another web.

The spiders little six black beady eyes stare down at me.

"Micah."

No reply.

"Is that you?"

No reply.

"I love you."

No reply.

"Why did you leave me? I really needed you.. I still do."

No reply.

"I really want to cry, and I really miss you. I can't do this.. I just can't.." My voice drifts off and I start to sob.

Still nothing.

"Stupid f***ing spider."

I wipe my eyes, flip on my lamp, and reach for something under my bed.

I stand on my bed, gripping my flip flop tightly, and I smash the spider that had been on my ceiling for the past two weeks.

Date: Wednesday/April 4th/2001

Time: 10:10 AM

[Five months and one week before 9.11.01]
-------------------------------------------------

I was going to cry.

F***.

I didn't want to cry, but Micah was going to make me cry.

"Nothing happened!" I shouted.

Micah clenched his jaw.

"Oh really? You go to this party, with f***ing Brice, out of all people, you two get drunk, and you except me to believe nothing happened?"

"You're the one who dumped me Micah! What the hell?"

I watched Micah's eyes widen in disbelief.

"Dumped you? Jesus Christ, Sarah! I suggested we should maybe take time apart for a little. All it seems we do is argue. I just thought..." His voice drifted off.

He was right.

Micah and I had been fighting a lot more recently.

I figured it had to with both our busy life's. We had a lot on our plates.

It's Micahs senior year, and he's dealing with school and his job, and Rainey, my older sister, had a baby two weeks ago, and she's been staying at our parents place.

I get no sleep with the new born around.

But the last fight Micah and I got into was by far, the worse.

The fight was so stupid, so f***ing stupid.

The other day, I asked Micah to pick me up from the library at eight o clock.

I had a test the following day, and there's no way in hell I was getting any studying done at my place so after school, I walked over to the public library.

Micah swore he would pick me up. But he didn't show. He didn't text or call me either.

I tried calling mom and dad but neither picked up. I had to walk home, and the temperature was arriving in the teens.

I left Micah a nasty voice mail but can you could blame me?

He said he would be there to get me but he didn't show, nor bother to give me a heads up.

I completely avoid him the next day at school, still upset about the episode that occurred the night before.

He finally stopped me at my locker and forced me to talk to him.

"You didn't check your voice mail?" I snapped after Micah demanded to know what was up with my attitude all day.

Micah stared at me confused.

"What?"

I rolled my eyes.

"You don't recall anything you had to do last night?"

Micah still stared, clearly having no clue what I was talking about.

I sighed, irritated.

"The library. Yesterday. You were supposed to get pick me up."

Micah closed his eyes, suddenly remembering.

"Oh s*** babe. I'm sorry, I forgot."

I scoff. "You forgot? What were you doing? I had to walk home when it was eightteen degrees outside."

Micah looked worried and concerned. He sounded sincere when he apologized and asked if I was alright.

I crossed my arms. It was my time of the month and my b****ness was coming out.

"It doesn't matter now, I guess?" I grumbled, shoving a text book into my bag.

Micah grabbed my arm, a little too tight.

"Sarah," he said my name sternly.

I jerked my arm back.

"Sarah, " he repeated, his voice softening, "I said I was sorry. I pulled an eleven hour shift yestersay, I was exhausted."

I said nothing, zipping up my bag and slipping it around my shoulder.

Micah rubbed his temple, his eyebrows creasing. "Sarah, I don't know if I can do this."

"What?"

Micah looked at me. "I'm trying to talk things out with you and you won't even listen. You're so ignorant sometimes."

"Maybe if you would keep your word, I wouldn't be." I shot back.

"Do you want to be with me?" Micah asked, with a serious tone.

"Huh?"

Micah repeated himself.

"What kind of question is that Micah?"

Micah shrugged. "It's just a question Sarah. Sometimes I feel like it's not even you I'm talking to to. It's more like a wall I'm trying to discuss things with."

I was suddenly taken back. Micah never talked to me like that.

This whole f***ing conversation resulted because of his actions!

This wasn't the first time he bailed on picking me up from a place after he swore he'd be there to get me.

"Whatever," was all I said, turning my back to Micah and slamming my locker door.

"Maybe we should... Take time apart. This fighting is just tiring."

"Whatever," I repeated.

This also wasn't the first time Micah brought up "taking time apart". If that's what he wanted, fine.

Micah looked hurt. He opened his mouth to say something but I brushed past him, and headed to my next class.

"Don't bother taking me home today," I called over my shoulder. "I'll take the bus."

In my last period, Brice Sanders invited me to a party.

Typically, I would have said hell no to his offer.

For one I wasn't into parties, two, Brice was a douche bag yet adored by every female at West Creek High School, and three, Micah didn't exactly favor Brice, or in other words, he hated Brice Sanders with a passion.

But when he invited me to go, I said yes.

As bad as it sounds, a good part of me did it in spite. I was pissed at Micah.

He pretty much dumped in the hallway an hour ago.

I didn't see why not.

So Brice and I went to the party together.

We got drunk but nothing happened.

Sure I was upset at Micah but I'm not the type of girl to run off and sleep with someone to get back at a person.

I'm assuming someone who attended the party as well, told Micah they saw Brice and me together.

I recognized a few of Micah's friends. I'm sure it was one of them.

Micah showed up at my door the next morning.

I woke up with a raging hang over, but somehow managed to open the front door. Someone kept ringing the bell.

I opened the door.

"Out of all the years I've known you, I never thought you would cheat."

"What?" I asked, confused at Micah's accusations.

"Brice. You. Last night." Micah's voice was shaking.

"Oh kay? I don't understand why-,"

Micah cut me off. "You slept with him?"

I shook my head. "What the f*** Micah? No!"

Micah snorted.

"If you think I did, then why the hell did you even bother asking?"

"So you did?!"

"What the hell? No!" I shouted. "But clearly, it doesn't matter what I tell you. You think I'm a cheater."

"What happened then?"

He doesn't believe me.

Micah honestly thinks I went off and screwed Brice.

Are you kidding me?

My heart beat felt like it slowed down.

I wanted to cry.

Micah and I start to yell at each other.

Our screaming goes back and fourth.

Finally I can't take it anymore.

I rudely point out the fact it was him who broke it off.

"Dumped you?" Micah yelled, in disbelief. "Jesus Christ, Sarah! I suggested we should maybe take time apart for a little. All it seems we do is argue. I just thought..." His voice drifted off but came back quickly.

"I thought maybe, that's what we needed." He finished.

I started to cry.

F***.

I didn't want to cry.

I tried my best not to but I couldn't stop.

Micah studied me.

"Oh s***.. Don't cry, Sarah, please."

Micah pulled me into him.

I don't push him away.

I tug him inside my house and close my door. I lead him upstairs and into my bedroom so we can talk and not have a sob-fest in my damn front yard.

"I don't want to break up." I blurt once we're behind closed and locked doors.

Micah nodded and wiped my face.

"Sarah. I'm crazy about you. We've been together since middle school, and here I am graduating my last year in just a few months. I know people who are fully grown and can't say they've been together as long as you and me."

I placed my head on Micah's chest and listened to his heart beat.

Thump. Thump.

"I don't want to loose you Sarah. I love you so much. If one day you tell me you want to be just friends, you know what? I'd be okay with that.

Thump. Thump.

"I'm sure it would take some time, but I would get over it eventually. If that would make you happy, I'd deal with it. If that would help you feel complete when you wake up in the morning, I would be okay with it."

I didn't say a word.

Thump. Thump.

"I guess what I'm trying to say Sarah is, your happiness is mine."

Thump. Thump.

I kiss Micah.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He kisses me back.

Thumpthumpthumpthump

Date:Saturday/December 13th/1997

Time:11:34 AM

[Three years and nine months before 9.11.01]
-------------------------------------------------

The sweater was way to big for me.

It was decorated of stripes in odd colors that would never match in any dimension.

It was an ugly sweater.

But it cost only a buck.

I placed the sweater to my chest, still contemplating rather I should get it or not.

No thirteen year old that lived in Pine View would be caught dead shopping in the local thrift shift, but I loved Candace's Thrift Shop.

People just throw things out when it becomes outdated or too small.

I always find things I couldn't find anywhere else.

Just something to add to my personal collection.

If it wasn't obvious enough, my current collection was ugly sweaters.

I only had a dollar and a quarter.

It was between the navy blue pull over or the stripes.

It was a hard decision.

"I'd go with the stripes." Said a voice.

I look behind me in the long full length mirror I had already spent ten minutes in, and discover a pair of brown eyes staring at me.

I fumble over my words.

"Oh yeah? I was gonna go with this one."

The face I've never seen before in my life, smiled.

He smiled at me.

It was a genuine and sweet smile.

He nodded and lightly chuckled.

"You sure you aren't just saying that? 'Cause I noticed you eyeing the blue one since I've walked in."

My face flushed.

The stranger laughed and for whatever reason, his laugh made my ears tingle.

"I'm only messing with you." He sticks out his hand to me.

"I'm Micah." He said.

I shook his hand with my free one.

"I'm Sarah."

Date:Tuesday/February 19th/2002/

Time: 12:08 PM

[Five months, one week and a day after 9.11.01]
-------------------------------------------------
I've been to therapy before.

When I was seven years old I had a baby sitter.

He used to make me do things. And touch me in places.

I was really young, so I wasn't aware how wrong the things were, that were going on.

I eventually told my mother.

It was about a year later when she found out.

The councilor came to each third grade class and discussed the good touch and bad touch.

It was at that moment, I had realized what occurred a year ago.

But even then I didn't fully understand what had happened. My innocent mind still could not fully grasp the concept of sexual abuse.

So at age nine, I was placed in therapy. I talked to this sweet young lady who had big, cow like brown eyes.

She constantly said things like "it's not your fault" and "you need time to heal" and "it's okay to open up".

The only people who knew what happened to me was mom, dad, and Rainey.

My best friend, Jennifer, didn't even know, so I surprised myself when I slipped up one night and told Micah.

I was only fifteen at the time, and Micah sixteen. He had slept over that night.

Of course my parents weren't aware of that little fact, but it was three in the morning, everyone was asleep, my bedroom door had a lock, and Micah would be gone by morning time, way before anyone would wake.

Micah wanted to know why I always seemed distant, why I always pulled away from his touch, and almost always avoided his eye contact.

"Ever since I met you two years ago, you were like that, Sarah. You can always talk to me."

I chocked back my reply.

There's no way I could tell him. There's no way I could even explain.

Partly because I, myself, didn't fully understand why I was that way, and partly because I was scared I wasn't actually able to.

I couldn't make my mouth move and force the words out.

Micah laid a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"You know my older sister Lizzy?" Micah asked softy, his voice gentle.

I nod.

"She used to act the exact way you did. She wasn't always that way. Something happened to her, Sarah. Something real bad that made her hate herself."

I kept listening.

"And you don't have to tell me, not if you don't want to. I'm fine with that Sarah. But just know, I'm always here."

Micah wrapped his arms around me and I laid my head my in the usual spot, on his shoulder.

I closed my eyes, a tear falling down my face.

"Did someone hurt you Sarah?"

I couldn't reply. I couldn't say anything. I just nod.

I feel Micah's body tense up.

He was mad.

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

"God damnit, Sarah," Micah said, a bit too loud.

I was scared my parents would hear.

"Don't you ever say you're sorry for what happened. Okay? It's that's f***ers fault. Just give me his name Sarah. I just need a name. And I swear I'd..."

Micah didn't have to finish. I knew what he was going to say. And I knew it was the truth.

We did fall asleep that night.

I was wrapped in Micah's arms and I knew his head was angled in an awkward position and his whole neck would be swore when morning arrives. I tried to switch positions, and offer to move, so he could be more comfortable, but Micah stopped me.

"Sarah. Just go to sleep. Please."

**

At first Mrs.Kelly didn't say anything.

She is my therapist. She has to say something.

Isn't that her job?

Mrs.Kelly scribbled something in her notebook and finally spoke.

"This memory, you have with you and Micah, how would you describe your feelings towards it?"

What the hell is that to mean?

"Well, I feel pretty damn upset about it because...anything to do with Micah is kinda upsetting because he's not around. But I also feel happy and loved.. Because that memory shows he really gave a s*** about me.. So I mean..."

Mrs.Kelly spoke.

"I'm glad you've opened up to me Sarah. The last few sessions, you didn't say much. But you're trying. And I know the last place you want to be is here. I know your parents are making you go. I can really see you're trying and not giving me bullshit answers just to fill the hour, like most of the teenagers that are forced to see me. "

Mrs.Kelly smiles at me.

And the timer goes off.

Our session has ended.

Date:Sunday/January 10th/1999

Time: 12:05 PM

[Two years and eight months before 9.11.01]
-------------------------------------------------

My fingers ran over the picture frame.

I created finger prints on the glass.

I felt bad and tried to rub them away with the sleeve of my hand, but only made it worse.

"Don't even worry about it," said Micah.

I hadn't realize he was behind me the whole time, watching.

My face flushed. "Sorry," I said.

Micah shrugged.

"Who is that?" I asked, pointing to the picture on wall.

"Brother," Micah mumbled.

I glanced back at the picture.

A boy who couldn't be older then 16 or 17 stood beside a younger boy who had a goofy grin worn on his face, who was obviously Micah.

Micah resembled the teenage boy who was beside him.

Same blond hair, brown eyes, and dimples.

"What's his name?" I asked.

"He name was Jason."

Was.

Oh.

I cleared my throat. "What happened to him?"

With in a matter of seconds before Micah answered, I mentally went down a list of possibilities of that could have happened to his brother.

Car accident

Prison

Murdered

Air plane crash

Suicide

"He over doused three years ago."

There was a silence.

"I'm so sorry Micah."

Micah twisted his lips into a grimace.

"What for Sarah? He decided to do it."

"Was it... On purpose?"

Micah shook his head.

"It was an accident. He had been using for a while. No one ever wanted to say anything. They just acted oblivious to it. And then... One day..."

Micah suddenly stopped talking and I assumed that's where he was going to end the conversation.

I didn't blame him.

It has to be hard to discuss the death of your brother.

I looked away, thinking of something to say to change the conversation, but Micah spoke.

"Our house keeper, Mina, walked into his room one morning, to wake him up for his breakfast. And she just found him laying there.

"I guess she started to freak out. And she called Lindsay. Lindsay came running... But I think she knew... We all knew it would happen one day. We tried to get him to stop. But he never listened. He was so f***ing selfish."

Micah stared at me.

"To be honest with you Sarah, a lot of people don't know what really happened to Jason. "

"What do you mean?" I asked. "What about the rest of your family?"

Micah scoffed.

"The rest of my family doesn't even come around. My dad was the only child, and my mothers siblings live across the world, and they didn't even call. As far as my grandparents, I've never met them.

"Jason had plenty of friends but they stopped hanging out once they knew he was using. My dad even tells his work colleagues Jason is off traveling the world. And they believe him."

Micah gulped. "So really, it's just you that knows."

I don't know what it was but apart of me was torn.

It might have been the look on Micah's face, or the whole story he just spilt or maybe it was the current silence that was causing an ache in my stomach.

Or maybe all three.

I reached out for Micah's arm, and surprisingly, Micah pulled me close to me.

I heard him sniffle.

I suddenly pulled away and looked at him. "Are you crying?" I asked.

Micah smiled at me. His eyes were clear, and no tears soaked his face.

"No Sarah. I'm not crying. Actually, I was smelling your hair. It's smells nice." He adds.

I laugh. "Well if you want to cry, that's ok. And thanks by the way."

I hadn't washed my hair in the past two days but I left that out.

We both lay on the sofa, my head now laid on his lap, and his arms resting over my torso.

"Never do it."

"Hm?" I asked, realizing Micah spoke.

"Don't make selfish decisions like Jason. I'll never get my brother back."

I nod. "I'm not gonna get into drugs Micah." I promised. "You know I'm a big baby. I'm too scared to even hit a cigarette."

I stare into Micah's brown eyes and I know he's not joking.

He kisses my forehead.

"I don't mean just drugs either when I say selfish decisions, Sarah. Leaving me would be selfish because you mean so much to me."

Date: Tuesday/September 11th/2001

Time: 8:02 A:M

[Exactly fourty-four minutes before 9.11.01]
-------------------------------------------------

I hate Mrs.Fanger.

I hate her so much.

I usually tend to stay away from caffeine beverages, because sugar gives me the jitters, but due to my lack of sleep the previous night, I brought myself a cup full of coffee with me to school.

I arrive to second period, and I have to go pee. Bad.

I ask my teacher can I please, please, please go to the bathroom, and she tells me no because class just started, and to sit down.

I'm usually a respectful student, but I really had to go pee, and pissing in my pants was not an option.

I ignore Mrs.Fanger, and go the bathroom anyways. I'd take the detention.

I rush to the bathroom, and once I get done taking the very much needed pee, I wash my hands and l realize I had a missed call from Micah.

I dial the number I knew by heart.

"Hey." Micah picked up on the first ring.

I closed my eyes, and listened to his voice. It me how much I missed him.

"How's it going?" I asked.

"I'm super nervous Sarah. In thirty minutes, i'll be with my father and the rest of my coworkers. It's a big meeting, and the first one I'm attending. I just don't want to make a fool of myself. I don't want to embarrass my dad. I'm just sitting in Mason's office now..." Micah rambled on.

"Micah, calm down." I tried to get a hold of him. "You'll do great babe. You're smart. And everyone will love your ideas."

There was a silence and then a, "Sarah?"

"Mhm, I'm listening."

"I love you so much. You alway know what to say."

I smile. God, I needed that.

"I have to go back to class. I'm glad I got to talk to you. I love you, always."

"Always." Micah said.

Click.

I head back to math, and Mrs.Fanger didn't even notice me, once I walked back inside the classroom.

She was too busy writing the date on the dry erase board.

I read "Tuesday-September 11th" in her terrible hand writing.

It was towards the end of class, I found myself staring outside the window.

In Illinois, it was currently sunny, and the skies were a perfect blue.

It was a beautiful Tuesday.