I don't want to write about this. I don't want to think about this. I just want to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head, and forget everything.

Too bad it's not a movie. It's my country. My country.

This wasn't supposed to happen, not here, not in America. This means war. We will find the sick, evil people who did this, and we will destroy them. It's not very nice or pretty, but it is the only way to stop it.

Oh dear God, please be with us all. Be with the victims and their families. Be with the citizens of this great country. Be with our leaders.

I was in E.A.S.T. lab. It was 9:05 a.m. CST. A guy came running in from the library. "A plane crashed into the World Trade Center," he said. And we laughed, at first. I don't know why. We were stupid, so stupid. And then, gradually, we heard the rest. The Pentagon. Camp David. Both towers, gone. Maybe fifty thousand people, gone. Murdered. And the period changed, and Ms. Nichols took us to the cafeteria to watch the T.V., and over and over again we saw the buildings fall, the people running and screaming, the blood and terror and utter devastation. Those images will never leave my mind.

Third period, American Studies. Mrs. Hutchison walks in. "What is happening right now is more important than anything we could ever teach you." She turned on the T.V., and we watched more news, our faces pale and our mouths silent.

The sun is setting now, on the day which saw this tragedy. I'm still scared, dazed, confused. Oh dear God, what will happen to us now? Where do we go from here?

Something beautiful: A blood drive had been pre-scheduled to take place at the school today. It was cancelled because the other sites were so overloaded by people wanting to donate blood that they didn't have enough manpower to even take care of them.

I love my country.