I remember the itchy, navy blue seat. It scratched my leg every time my skirt rode up. Except I was too busy looking out the window to care. The clouds rolled outside the airplane, forming into different shapes and sizes. I saw bird shaped clouds turn into trucks and book shape clouds turn into elephants. My mother sat to the left of me and peered over me whenever she looked outside of the plane; for it was her first time on a plane as well. We were flying to New York. Mama told me that people calledNew York City"The Big Apple." I didn't understand why New York was called that, but I never asked anyone, I was too excited to land. Soon, a man's voice sounded out of nowhere, "Everybody fasten your seatbelts as we make our way into New York...show more content...
It was nothing like the airport in Iowa. The airport was packed with different people, and there were so many different signs pointing to so many different places. Mama and I just looked for the exit signs. When we got outside the air was cool and crisp. I heard lots of honks and car engines in the distance and saw so many different people entering and leaving the airport with us. One thing that struck me was the number of people awake at 3:00 am. Why were there so many cars on the streets? Why were there so many lights on in the buildings? What were these people doing at this time in the morning? I asked Mama this, and she said, "Ha, I bet all of the other people awake at this hour are asking the same question about us." I clutched my necklace tight. Mama got it for me when I was very little. It has a star and a moon. I wear it every day. I looked at it very carefully while Mama was on the phone with the person who is picking us up from the airport. I watched the people walk out of the sliding doors, people of all different hair colors, eye color, and skin color. Most of my friends have dirty blonde hair and brown eyes like me. I wondered about their lives, families, and
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There are two main reasons I have applied to NYU. The first is because New York City is my favorite place in the world. The first time I came to New York was with my mom. We had taken a bus from Vermont to Massachusetts and then into New York. The bus ride was long and uncomfortable, but I was as bouncy and ecstatic. When I stepped out of the Port Authority Bus Terminal and on to 8th Avenue, there was only one word that could accurately describe the feeling; home. Even though I was only able to be in the city for seventeen hours, every minute felt like a lifetime. My mom and I spent most of the day in the Theatre District, except for a quick trip uptown to the Hamilton Grange National Memorial. It was uptown that I figured out there was nowhere
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