I know I was going to post this on Sunday, but yesterday something happened and I decide to added it today. I was about to post it last night, but my dad just took my phone away. I had told you guys I was going to do a 9/11 drabble because of that "mistake" I did weeks before 9/11 and continued on until it was 9/11.

Here it is.

Thaovy lays on her bed, the 9/11 pamphlet clutched in her hands. The memorize pops up into her head for a while. She feels like she betrayed her own country. She then texts America.

Alfredo

hey, Alfed. Can you come to my house? I was going to tell you two days ago, but Sunday and Monday was busy. Is that okay?

...okay

At least she's able tell him to come over. About fifteen minutes later, a knock is heard on her front door. Thaovy rushes down the stairs and opens the door with Alfred on the doorstep

"Hey, Thaovy," he greets, his voice soft.

"Hey, America," she murmurs back, letting him inside and showing him to the living room. The Americans sit down on the couch.

There's a gap of silence before Thaovy starts a conversation. "So...I've heard from the others you keep telling yourself that you're not a hero."

"Damn right I was!" he agrees. "I didn't do anything! I didn't save my people! I was scared! What kind of hero am I?"

Thaovy could only state at the North American in sadness. There is absolutely no way she can simply say "move on" to him. How can he move on from a cruel event from fifteen years ago?

"Alfred, if you're not a hero, then I'm not an American."

Alfred glances at Thaovy, surprised of her words. "What do you mean?"

"I have a confession that I did for a few weeks before 9/11," she admits.

"Is that why you asked me to come over?" he questions. She answers with a hesitant nod, looking down. "Can you please tell me?"

Building up her last bit of confidence, she starts to rant. "Okay. Last year, my school band, our high school band, and the other two middle school feeders of that high school were going to play Burn by Demi Lovato on the high school's football game. It turned out to be on Friday, which was 9/11. My friends made a joke about it. They kept saying, 'We're gonna let it burn, burn, burn on 9/11!' and do you know what's worse? I joined with them, and I forgot about what happened on fuckin' 9/11 until the day came!"

Tears slowly run down on her face. "After that day, I just completely abandoned 9/11, thinking it was just nothing! Now, I feel so fucking terrible after what I did! I totally forgot after what happened at 9/11 and I completely insulted it! After going to the 9/11 museum, those memories returned and I felt like a bitch. You must be tearing apart when you were getting all of those artifacts hanged up, like one of those tan high heels with the right one with some blood on it! You probably even helped the museum helpers to give them footage on what happened on that day! Nearly three thousand people died, two powerful twin buildings collapsed, one pentagon nearly crashed, one White House targeted, and I knew nothing about it! What kind of American am I, Alfred!? A really shitty kind! I'm just full-on Vietnamese! Shit, I wasn't even born before 2001! Also, my grandpa from my dad's side died on the day before the 9/11 anniversary six years ago, and I still didn't know about it either! I should have been a better citizen for you! You're fucking the America! I should haven't forgotten 9/11, and it just...just—"

Sobbing has controlled her mouth. Her hands cover her face and pivots into another direction. She really wished Alfred didn't see her breaking down like this. She's expecting an argument to start, but she feels her hands being took down by his hands. She stares into those sky blue eyes. Thaovy pauses her crying.

"What happened during the middle school band night last year?" he asks, softly griping her wrists.

Her eyes repeatedly blink. Her pupils stare upwards before remembering. "During halftime at the football game, we...uh...formed the word 'USA'..." Her eyes widen on the realization. "...and then played Spirit of America in that formation..."

"See? You even showed your support to 9/11, even if you didn't know it," he states.

Her lips curled up a little. "Yeah, I guess I did. My chaps were tired, but I played proudly." Thaovy gratefully squeezes him back, her eyes closed before opening it again. "Wait, I wanted to show you this. I wrote this in my ELA class."

She gives her phone to Alfred. "Read this," urges the Asian. "It's a bit blurry. I wanted to keep it with me, but it's a letter. My ELA teacher is gonna give it to the officers or whoever gets it first."

Alfred takes the phone and starts reading the photo of the letter.

Dear police officers, firefighters and paramedics.

   I would like to thank all of you for rescuing and saving the endangered people in 9/11. Thank you for standing up and helping out. You guys are true heroes. I know there wasn't as much as you could have done there, but you all have saved thousands of people. Yes, nearly 3,000 people died. Yes, many firefighters and police officers died saving the people, but they died as a hero.

   I have visited the 9/11 memorial at vacation in New York. The museum was so sad and terrible. The nineteen hijackers—five on each plane and four on the fourth—crashed down three of our beloved buildings: the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. The White House was able to survive because the passengers on the fourth plane rebelled against the hijackers and crashed the plane in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. The people fought for their country and died to save the White House. Back to the 9/11 museum, I have seen so many videos, audios, information, and artifacts, such as a high heel covered in dried up blood. I have learned what had caused the hijackers to do something this cruel, starting with the Soviet Union and Afghanistan in war with each other.

I have seen the horrific videos of 9/11 there. There was one where the second plane crashed the other Twin Tower. Another showed the hijackers successful going through the security system at the airport. The videos had made me cry, even portraits of all of the dead citizens in 9/11. I have even saw the 9/11 memorial. I have heard the the hijackers were in a group called 'Al-Queda', a group that didn't want non believers—America—in Afghanistan.

I would like to thank you again for what all of the bravest people who died saving the other citizens or who are alive but was able to save the citizens. Thank you for taking care of the people. Thank the boat men who had come to Manhattan to rescue nearly 500,000 citizens off the island in less than nine hours. Thank you, construction workers, for rebuilding the towers for fifteen years. Thank tog, paramedics, for caring more than 6,000 injured people. Thank you, firefighters and policemen and policewomen, for risking your loved to save citizens. Thank you, the dead heroes and heroines, for dying to save other lives. The attacks of 9/11 have been dreadful, but we will remember this day like all of the existing wars from the past. I may have not been there on Earth to hear, see or know it happened, but the museum had given me a whole new perspective on 9/11. Again, thank you all for giving your all during this devastating day, and 9/11 will forever and always be in our hearts.

Giving thanks,

America stares at the two photos in awe. "You wrote this...for me?"

"Technically, it was for your people because I can't just say 'Alfred' in there," she reminds. "But yes, it was for you. It's for making up my mistake last year, though I didn't proofread the whole thing. Yeah, it kinda sounds all mixed up, but it's long because I was serious about it. Everyone else's, which I sneaked a peek to look at, was very short. Half a page, to be exact. I can tell they really didn't have much sincere in that paper. I wasn't born to understand it, but I can actually 'feel' it."

"That's why I still believe you're a true American, Thaovy." He shows her his brightest smile.

"Well, I still think you're the hero, Alfred."

"Hey!" he cheers. "You actually called me Alfred."

"Don't get too excited, 'Fred." She lightly grins.

That's my confession. I still feel really terrible for what I did, though. I feel okay right now. This year, all four bands played Uma Thurman. Also, the note I did in ELA made me feel a bit  better.

Also, I did write the letter. I cut off the a bit of the first pic because it had my address.

And chaps mean mouth. I usually say it when it's band class.