The Bluestocking 2023-24

Danielle Di Giusto Grade 12

They got married in September. The ninth month of the year. The eleventh day of the month. In 1999, not 2001. In Chinese culture, the number nine represents longevity and eternity. Something they wanted to be. Each of them was like one of the twin towers. They were strong and built to last a lifetime. There was concrete and steel at the core of each tower and clear glass on the exterior that reflected the sun’s rays making each tower sparkle. The two towers were admired by all who saw them. The sun’s reflection off the shiny exterior is pretty, but it masks the cracks that form over time. They decided it was time to build a third tower. Another one would change the twin towers forever. They would no longer be “the twin towers”. Could they become a trilogy? A family? Instead of a third building, what about an airplane? Planes soar through the sky, helping people get to where they need to be. A plane could fly by the twin towers, and its image could be seen reflected off the glass windows of both towers. The plane was not a third tower, but both towers loved the plane and were happy to see it fly. I was the plane, and one day I crashed through the windows leaving splintered glass scattered around. My family was the shards of glass, broken and forever changed. I thought I was helping by flying so close to the towers, but I destroyed everything. The twin towers became rubble, and I disintegrated. So many lives changed that day. Now that they no longer stand side by side, my face is wrinkled like an unironed shirt from clenching my eyes shut to try to catch a glimpse of the way we were—and what we could have been.

33