I was in my last year of college, living with a couple of friends. That morning I hadn't been online because I had been playing a video game in my room because I didn't need to go to school until later.
One of my roommates came up to my open door and told me that something had happened in New York. We turned on the TV and watched the 2nd tower fall. Our apartment was a bit of a gathering place of our friends and that day it become crowded. Crowded but quiet because we were all in shock.
I called my mom, because that's what you do when a national tragedy is unfolding before your eyes on CNN. And she told me that I should go fill up my car with gas. I went out by myself and it was eerie. No-one was out except at the gas stations which were all packed.
After waiting to get gas, I headed back to my apartment and still watched the TV. I ended up going back out with some friends to get gas in their car, and it was still eerie but less so because I was with other people.
September 11th defined my generation and changed the world. 13 years ago, that whole week sucked. Later that week, my grandmother passed away. So my personal grief was mingled with the national grief as it was.
I'll never forget that September day as long as I live. It was horrible, in part because we watched it happen on TV.