Prologue

We all sat in the living room staring at the television. A plane had flown into one of the Twin Towers. I felt tears streaming from my eyes, those poor people, I thought, the families they'd left behind. A rough callused hand gripped mine, and I looked up and saw my best friend also visibly upset, I was brought back to reality, when the noise of aircraft filled the room, it was like something out of a horror film, another plane had flown into the other tower, I suddenly felt sick and rushed out of the room to the bathroom and threw up the breakfast I'd only recently eaten, my best friend there holding my hair back even at seven he knew how to look after me, he did enough of it at home for his mother.

When I was done I weakly stood up and accepted the glass of water he'd poured for me. "How can somebody do something like this," I said hoarsely, my throat dry from being sick and crying.
"I don't know," he said. "There's no reasonable explanation for it,"
"I feel so sorry for their families," I said.
"I know me too," he said. "Come on let's go and sit in your room, I don't wanna go back in there,"

We spent the rest of the day in my room watching musicals, I knew Noah hated them, but he would do anything for me, just like I would do anything for him. The Twin Tower Attacks triggered the start of the war in Afghanistan, and eight years later it was still going on...