United 93

2006-05-11

I didn't want to see this movie. Don't know what compelled me. But there I was. I'd never been so frightened in my life. I fidgeted nervously in my seat, panic boiling in my bones. Was I a rotten person? Was this morbid curiosity? I didn't think so. I prayed I didn't think so. Was there even a word to describe my motivation? I stood up. I sat down. Why was I here? What kind of repugnant, sick person did my parents raise? I looked around. Should I get up? Should I leave? I knew how this story ended. I saw it on the news, read every painful detail of the transcripts, discussed it with everyone. September 11, 2001, was a heart-twisting nightmare for this country, a cold, numb anguish. The world was changed. The world was fucked. Nothing mattered anymore. People were still filing in. I still wanted to run away. But here I was, almost five years later, trying to understand why I was willing to spend two-and-a-half hours of a Saturday morning helplessly watching, in mounting terror and dismay, unsuspecting strangers die on a plane....

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