Midnight ☆ L.H (au)

one

4:34 pm - ANASTASIA BYNES

New York has a population of eight million people.

Eight million people packed into a small city that "never sleeps".

As I gazed up at the towering skyscrapers of Manhattan, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. The hustle and bustle of the city that never sleeps, the lively streets and bustling cafes all had a certain charm to them. But despite the excitement and energy of the city, there was a sense of isolation that hung in the air. It was as if the eight million people living in New York were all crowded together in a tiny, overcrowded space, each feeling alone and lost in the crowd.

I could see it in the faces of the people around me, the hollow looks in their eyes as they made their way through the city. The city was a never-ending cycle of movement, and yet there was nowhere to go. No one had time to stop and chat, to exchange stories, to make a connection that went beyond a passing glance.

But despite the loneliness of the city, there were spaces where the beauty of New York shone through. The local library on the corner was a small oasis of calm, a place where people could come to learn and escape the chaos of the outside world. And the nearby dog park was a place of joy and delight, the laughter of children and the barking of excited dogs filling the air.

The city was a place of endless possibilities, a place where dreams could come true. But it was also a place where the loneliness and isolation of the modern world was on full display, reminding me that even in a city of eight million people, you could feel more alone than ever before.

The apartment I was lucky enough to find was a small two-bedroom of a mere 900 square inches. It stood on the second floor right above the library, with steep stairs that made hauling heavy boxes up a nightmare. Nevertheless, my childhood best friend, Connie, her Calico cat Lilo, and I managed to stuff 22 years of stuff inside.

Another door next door was taped off with "do not enter" signs and littered with dust. It was definitely tempting me from the moment my feet touched the very floor we lived on, but I knew better than to poke my nose in matter that didn't involve me - right?

Miss Janice, the owner of the library downstairs, told me not to worry about. It was just an extra storage room for the "hazardous stuff".

Packing up my whole life and moving to a new state was a scary feeling, even scarier when it's an overpriced, overcrowded city. Regardless of my dreams for nursing school, New York was overhyped and expensive. I settled on going because Connie had always dreamed of living in the Big City and becoming a photographer, so sticking close to a friend after we both graduated college boosted my motivation to go out and get out of my comfort zone.

Connie was always the life of the party, a ray of sunshine that would light up every room she entered. She had a certain je ne sais quoi that drew people to her - a kind of irrepressible charm that made everyone want to become her friend.

We met freshman year of high school, where she quickly established herself as one of the most popular girls in our grade. She had a reputation for being a bit of a wild child, always the first to jump onto the dance floor and the last to leave.

But beneath that fierce attitude, there was a deep well of kindness and generosity - she was always willing to lend a helping hand to anyone who needed it.

Perhaps it was stupid of me to chase after my friend in hopes of landing a career, but there wasn't much to do after we got our degrees. I have a dream to find, though I know it wasn't something I could find in Oregon. And hey, bigger is better, right? I've heard there's always opportunity in the Big Apple.