It was September 22nd.
“I love you…” She whispered.
Nobody answered her.
“I love you” She said a bit louder, but all she could hear was the sound of her own voice.
“I love you!” She screamed. All she heard back was the sound of life going on all around her.
People stopped to stare at her and then they kept on walking, shaking their head slowly. I’m not crazy, she wanted to tell all of them; but she didn’t because she knew no one would listen to her. There were people everywhere, but she’d never felt so alone.
That’s when she felt the arm on her shoulder; she turned quickly, hoping it would be him. But it wasn’t…
“Can I help you dear?” The woman, with kind eyes, asked her.
“No, I was just…” She stopped suddenly, not knowing what she was just about to do…
“You were what?” The woman asked patiently.
“I was just waiting for someone” She said absently, looking for his face in the crowd.
“You look cold honey, here take this” The woman handed her coat to the young girl. She’d never seen her before but she reminded her of her own daughter. If her own daughter had been freezing, she’d have wanted someone to give her a coat.
“I’m not cold, we’re in September” The young girl pushed the coat away, looking straight ahead.
The woman tried to brush off some of the snow that was covering the girl’s head but she pushed her away. She was late but she couldn’t leave the girl by herself, not this girl who reminded her of her daughter.
“Who are you waiting for?”
“Max” was the only word she spoke. Her face lit up when she said it.
The woman was a psychologist and she knew how to get people talking, even strangers. “How is Max?”
“He’s doing great; he’s supposed to meet me here. He went to visit some relatives this summer and he was supposed to meet me here. He’ll be here soon. He loves me. He’ll be here soon… He loves me… He’ll be here soon…” The girl was smiling, but her voice was false.
“How late is Max?” The woman asked the young lady, worried.
“He’s always late. Look, he sent me this…” The girl said smiling. But her hand was shaking when she gave the letter to the woman.
It said:
“Emily, I’m sorry, I love you.
I’m taking a plane to New York, I’ll be here soon.
Everything will be ok.
My flight leaves at ten.
September 11, 2001”
As the woman stared at the words, the snow kept on falling. Emily kept on waiting and the world kept on turning.