A brilliant brilliant post

I just saw it disappear in the new queue. If anyone knows what I’m talking about, please tell me. It was absolutely delightful.<br><br>Edit: it’s back! But please keep sharing!<br><br>Edit 2: I now have a copy of the post! If you want to read it PM me!<br><br>Edit 3: so the author is going to make it into a short story! He asked me to remove it from my profile but I will keep the draft for myself. It will keep me warm on these lonely nights.<br><br>Edit 4: you lovely people have encouraged me to write my own short story based on it, I will share it when I’ve proofread it - I’ll make a separate post for it. May I request that you do not ask the author to repost the original but refer to the new story instead. You have all humbled me with your kindness and now I will have a keepsake forevermore!<br><br>Edit 5: it’s been removed again, so I will post it here. The author is still working on it, but this will be a draft, it may change some stuff. I warn you that everyone that has read it has loved it but it is a tear jerker, so you have been warned!<br><br>---<br><br>The last memory I have of my wife and children is of watching them get on a plane. <br><br>I never saw them again.<br><br>I’ve never even seen their bodies.<br><br>The day they died, I was in a shopping centre when it happened. I wasn’t even doing anything important. I wasn’t buying flowers or chocolates for my wife to apologise for something. Or picking up some happy meal for the kids. Something to remind them of their dad after he was gone, something they could see and touch and say, ‘he was thinking of us right to the end.’ <br><br>No. <br><br>I was buying a new pair of shoes. Black ones. I had an interview. If I got the job it would mean making more money. We’d be able to live in a bigger house. The kids would be able to go to a better school. We’d be able to go on better holidays. The kids would have more fun. They would learn more things. They would make friends for life. I’d be able to spoil my wife. We’d grow old together. I’d buy her flowers and chocolates. All the time. We’d be happy. Our kids would grow up. They’d get great jobs. Maybe one would be a doctor. Maybe the other a lawyer? Maybe they’d get married, have children of their own. Have children that would be my grandchildren. I’d buy them sweets. All the time. We’d go to Disneyland. All of us. Together. We’d all be together. We’d grow old together. <br><br>That’s how it was supposed to be. <br><br>But it never was. It never got to that. It was just supposed to be a quick ten minute pop in to the shop, but it took fifteen minutes and in those extra five minutes my life changed forever. <br><br>There was this big bang and then everything fell on me. I couldn’t move. I was pinned down. There was all this dust. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear anything. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t go home. Home wasn’t there anymore. <br><br>I didn’t survive. I didn’t survive because I wasn’t living. I was just a body. A body that was working. Working to provide for a family it no longer had, but didn’t know it. Not then. I didn’t know then. I didn’t know that my children were dead and that my wife had died with them. I didn’t know that my whole life had gone. I didn’t know that I was already dead. I didn’t know that I was buried under debris. I was a cadaver. I didn’t know that I was already gone. I didn’t know how to stop being a cadaver. I didn’t know how to live. I didn’t know how to be alive, but not living. I didn’t know that I was dead. I didn’t know how to bring my family back to life. I didn’t know how to bring me back to life. I didn’t know how to do anything anymore. I was just a cadaver.<br><br>That was 20 years ago. I’m still a cadaver. I’m a cadaver buried under rubble. I can’t see anything. I can’t hear anything. I can’t feel anything. I never grew old with the love of my life. I never got to spoil her. I never got to spoil my kids. I never got to go to Disneyland with them. I never got to see them graduate. I never got to see them get married. I never go to see them have kids of their own. I never got to be a grandad. I’m just a cadaver.<br><br>My wife and kids were on one of the planes that crashed into the towers. I was in the towers. I was in the north tower. They were on the plane that crashed into the south tower. If I hadn’t been such a cadaver, if I hadn’t been such a coward, I would have waited for them at the gates and told them not to get on that plane. If I hadn’t been such a cadaver, if I hadn’t been such a coward, I would have got on the plane with them. If I hadn’t been such a cadaver, if I hadn’t been such a coward, I would have died with them. If I hadn’t been such a cadaver, if I hadn’t been such a coward, I wouldn’t have had to live the last 20 years without them. If I hadn’t been such a cadaver, if I hadn’t been such a coward, I wouldn’t be a cadaver. <br><br>I should have died on 9/11.<br><br>I didn’t.<br><br>And now here I am. I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know who my family were. It’s been too long. I can’t see their faces, can’t hear their voices, can’t feel their touch. I don’t know how to be anymore. I don’t know how to live. I don’t know how to be alive but not living. <br><br>The last memory I have of my wife and children is of watching them get on a plane.<br><br>I never saw them again.<br><br>I’ve never even seen their bodies.<br><br>But they say that if you concentrate hard enough, you can hear their screams.