Justice for Nicole

I thought I would find some sort of comfort when this day came. That I would feel some sort of relief when the person responsible for Nicole's death, as well as the deaths of almost 3,000 others, on September 11 was brought to justice. Now that this day has arrived, I feel like I have been waiting in vain.


I don't feel comforted by his death. The empty feeling in my chest is still there. It hasn't diminished in size; in fact, it might even be a little bigger. Or maybe it just feels that way because the scab has been ripped off the wound once again...and it hurts just as much (maybe even a little more) than it did almost 10 years ago. At least I think it does.

In the first three days after September 11, the events of that Tuesday morning were surreal to me. I remember thinking Good thing I live on the west coast...this couldn't possibly affect me in the slightest... I had 72 hours to watch it like millions of others, as if I was watching a movie, totally and completely unaffected by all of it. Then came September 14. That was the day my life changed. That was the day I learned that Nicole was a passenger on United Flight 93. That day my life changed forever and it will never be the same. I have Osama bin Laden to thank for it.

Tonight, at around 8:45 pm, I received an instant message from a fb friend named Grant. He said "Did you hear?" Then a few seconds later "Bin Laden is dead...they got him...turn on CNN." Today is May 1, 2011. It is almost ten years later.

Though I have waited for this day for a long time. I had thought I would find some comfort in his capture. I had thought I'd feel some sort of relief by his death. I had thought that when this day came I'd be jumping for joy. But the truth of the matter is I'm not dancing in the streets and I've felt nothing except anxious. Anxious because they aren't going to go away quietly and I'd bet a million dollars that they're already grooming someone to take his place. As much as I hate to say it, I'm anxious because I am anticipating their next move.

Am I glad he was found? Yes. Am I happy he's dead? Not really. I'd rather he'd been taken alive. Am I going to cheer in the streets and dance around because he is dead? No. Some people have asked me "Why not?" If I did, then I'd be no different than the Palestinians danced in the street and passed out candy after the 9/11 attacks. I am better than that...most of the time, that is. I won't lie; there have been many times since 9/11 that I wished OBL to be drawn and quartered. Or something equally as gruesome and painful. But try as I might to hate the way he hated, I can't. The closest I can get to that is the part of me that is happy he is no longer breathing. This is the same part of me that thinks the world is a better place because he is no longer a part of it. Do I think the world is a safer place now that he's gone? No. What scares me the most is that it seems to me that a lot of Americans think his death means GAME OVER. And it's not. Not by a long shot.

I've come to the conclusion that maybe this is why this day hasn't brought me any comfort or any relief. Nothing really has changed. The death of Osama bin Laden will not bring any of the nearly 3,000 people back that were killed that day. My beautiful friend, Nicole Miller, will never again walk into a room and make everything seem okay with her million dollar smile. I will never hear her laughter again...never hear that sound again in this lifetime.

NICOLE C. MILLER
Sunrise
March 4, 1980
Sunset
September 11, 2001


People say that time heals all wounds. Once again, I say they are full of shit. It's been almost a decade and time hasn't healed a damn thing. And neither has the death of OBL. I don't think I'll ever find any relief and I have the sinking suspicion that it is because I don't ever think anything will ever bring justice as far as Nicole and 9/11 are concerned.

At least not for me.