I wrote this for the 10th anniversary of 9/11, let all of the innocents killed rest in peace, and let their families be in our thoughts, and our prayers.

This is mostly centered on Courtney, but there IS DxC, so if you don't like it, I'm giving you this warning right now, so you can click away and save yourself time.

I wrote the date, September 11th, 2001, in my neat printing at the top of the math worksheet, in the blank space next to my name. Miss Shaw told me I had the neatest printing out of anyone in the class. The loud speaker boomed;

"Courtney Garcia, please come to the office, Courtney Garcia."

"Ooohhhhhh, Courtney!" the other 6-year-olds chanted, led by Duncan, the one who always picked on me.

"I didn't do anything!" I cried as I ran out of the room, down the hall and to the office. Two police officers were waiting at the office. Now I was terrified. "I didn't do anything!" I repeated. The police man gave me a sad look, I returned the gaze, confused.

"Courtney…" he started, sounding really upset. His partner, a blond woman with blue eyes touched his shoulder. "This is the hardest part of the job, babe." She told him. That's when I recognized them. They were Duncan's parents; I remembered when they came to the school when Duncan started bullying that Harold kid. Duncan's mother continued for her husband. "Courtney, we're sorry this happened." Now I was really confused, were they sorry that Duncan ripped my organizer? It seemed a little extreme to come to the school instead of making him apologize himself.

"Courtney…Your mother won't be coming home tonight." She told me, with a grim expression. "She's working late again? Why did you have to come to the school to tell me that?" I asked. It was nothing new for my mom to be working late, my uncle, Kevin, usually made dinner and watched me until she came home.

"No, Courtney. Your mother… Your mother was killed by a very mean man." She told me, starting to cry.

"NO SHE WASN'T!" I yelled, running past them and out the door. My mom worked 2 blocks away, and I knew the way by heart. Cars were speeding faster than usual, which I thought was impossible, here in New York City. But I didn't notice them until later. As I ran down the sidewalk, I was bumped into by many people running in the opposite direction. The police officers were stuck in traffic, far behind me, and it would be too dangerous for them to get out or switch lanes.

My mother worked in north tower. I stopped dead in my tracks. This was the scariest thing I'd ever see in my entire life, but I didn't know it. I didn't know because there wasn't a single thought that could pass through my mind. The North tower was swallowed by smoke. I couldn't see a single part of the building. All I saw was the smoke, as the top half of the building vanished. When I looked back, the building wasn't even half there. A woman jumped from the window, as I stared in shock. I ran to the building, hoping to see my mother, alive and well, escaping the front doors.

I saw my mother. She was alive. But wouldn't be for long, that fact raced through my first-grade mind. She was face down on the pavement.

She had jumped.

I had tried to block out the memory. But as I drove, I knew I could never forget. The police thought they had identified her body, but it had been a mistake. They realized that as they finally arrived and saw me on my knees, next to her body.

"Mom? Mom! MOMMY!" I yelled, shaking her.

"Courtney? Baby?" she asked, obviously losing her senses.

"Yes, mom, it's me."

"…Courtney?" she asked again.

"Yes, mom, it's me, Courtney."

She reached out, weakly taking my hand.

"I love you, baby. You need to get out of here."

I had watched my mother die, as I held her hand through it all.

I shook her again, hard. As hard as I could, screaming at the top of my lungs. I had never met my father, my uncle Kevin… I didn't even know what to think. He hadn't really been my uncle; he had been my mom's co-worker, Kevin Consgrove, his position was below my mother's, and he rarely worked late. This was why he often watched me and my little brother, Eric. If my mother had died, who worked floors below his office, had just died in front of me, there was no way he could have survived. She and Kevin were all that I had. I never had many friends; I was picked on, Eric was too young to speak, and had I no one to talk to.

Duncan's parents ran up behind me. His father picked me up off the ground, as I struggled to break free.

"We have to get her out of here." He told his wife, talking about me like I wasn't there.

I missed the next week of school. I couldn't face the people who had no clue what was going on in my life. I couldn't go back to a place so close to where my mother's last breath had been drawn.

I walked to my new bus stop alone. I was in foster care, and I absolutely hated it. I couldn't stand the thought that I might never have another home. A solid home, I mean. The only good thing was that they were letting me go to the same school. The school, despite everyone but Bridgette hating me, was my safe haven. Bridgette was my only friend in the world.

My new bus stop was right in front of a house; the one Duncan lived in. The black-haired boy and his blond fraternal twin, Darcy, stepped out of the house. Darcy wasn't in our class. Duncan ran up to me. I sighed, getting ready for the 'jokes'. But he took me by surprise. He came up and gave me a hug. I hugged him back, not knowing what else to do. "I'm sorry" he told me. "For everything, and your mom, too!"

I was shocked. This was something I wouldn't even find in my craziest dream, and it was happening, right here, right now.

"I forgive you…" I responded, hesitantly.

Nobody was mean to me that day. A few people apologized, but none the way Duncan had.

So, as I sat at St. Patrick's Catholic graveyard, at my mother's grave, I cried and said a quiet prayer. I left a photo of my current self, photo shopped with a picture of her at my age. I bared a lot of resemblance to my mother. One of the few differences was her brown eyes and my onyx ones. I did the same for my 'uncle' Kevin.

As I started to leave, a black car pulled up, and a young man with a green Mohawk stepped out. He noticed me. As he started walking to where I was standing, I offered a friendly smile.

"I knew I'd find you here" he told me, before pulling into a kiss.

He had been my best friend since that first day at the new bus stop, and he had been my first and only love.

Wow, that took my over an hour to write! So, what did you think? Was there too much detail? All of the paragraphs in italic were flashbacks, in case you didn't catch on.

I was going to change why Duncan was there. He was originally going to be there, visiting Darcy's memorial, as she died in a house fire when they were 8 years old. But no, I had to make it more romantic, and wanted to cut if a bit short. No flames please, I obviously don't like that, and it's just wasting your time.

And yes, this story was very dramatic, but it was going to be even MORE dramatic, AND her mother was just killed in one of the worst things that has ever happened! :(

I'm saying a prayer today for the innocents and their families, I encourage anyone who believes in God, whether you pray regularly or not, to do the same. It won't take much time at all, and it's the right thing to do.