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Jake was a normal guy. He had a nice family and a job that payed well... Until one very odd day. Here is his diary from that day:

I can't believe this is happening. The fumes. They're making me nauseated. The planes... Was it an accident? I hear screams of men and women everywhere, sounds of prayer, weeping, uncontrollably. But I was sitting here, writing my diary. It's morbidly comedic in the sense that everyone was denying the inevitable, as I continue a leisurely hobby that I'd gotten into as a method to get rid of stress. I guess it did more than it should have.

The building beside us was just hit. Just like our building, but there were fewer people who would have been trapped, killed or injured. I guess it had a lesser impact seeing it as everything unfolded.

Just maybe ten minutes later, my co-workers came to the realization that they'd never get out on time. They decided to kick open the windows, probably to get some fresh air, I thought. But my naive side was lost when they, one-by-one, jumped.

After some time, I realized that we were tilting. I have just now realized that this is the end. I know I will not survive. I'm not all that sad. I mean I've lived a decent life, I've gone around the world. Yes, I do realize that there will be an empty seat at the dinner table, but I will go down in a blaze of glory.

Just before it's too late, I'll miss my wife, Martha, and my, little girl, Lisa.

9/11/01

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