So. March 15th. It was a Monday. I had college and was up mega early at the crack of dawn, like every other weekday. As I was sitting eating my breakfast in front of the TV, the programme vanished, bringing up instead the emergency news thing that I’d never seen before in my life.

The stressed presenters were telling people that a terrorist plot had been detected just five minutes earlier, with a plane carrying a bomb big enough to wipe our little island of Britain off the map completely. My heart froze, barely registering the fact that US and UK fighter planes were on their way to stop the plane with the bomb in.

I ran upstairs to where my little sister and parents were still sleeping and shook them awake with the mindset that if we were all going to die I wanted to die together. Disgruntled they got out of bed as I ran back downstairs to see if there was any more information on the news

As I came downstairs, the presenters said that the plane had been brought down. That was when we felt the huge tremor.