On 9/11, we got sent home from school early. The teacher always had the radio on, so when the news first started breaking she switched the TV on. We watched the second plane hit live. After that they decided school was over and I got a ride home.

When I arrived home my mother and father were slaughtering our chickens in order to eat them. They couldn’t stand the chickens struggling while they were on the chopping block, so they had tied their feet together with rope, swung the whole chicken over their heads a couple times like a macabre lasso, and slammed them into a nearby tree, in order to dissorientate them long enough to do the deed. As I came down the driveway and rounded the corner I saw a chicken SLAM full force into the tree. The THUNK was so sickening I’ll never forget it. And as my Dad grabbed the chicken and lopped its head off with the axe, my mother saw me, smiled, and said “Oh, hey! We’re giving the chickens airplane rides!”.

They hadnt known what was happening until I explained why I was home early.