Lost

Chapter 1: New York

I looked out the window of the discusting cab that smelled of cigarettes and liquor I was in. I was able to get passed that looking at the amazing view. New York looked amazing at night. the bright lights of the Empire State Building, the light shining boldly over the Statue of Liberty, the sailing of boats out in the distance, just everything. I loved it. Sadly, I was only here for a week and then I had to go back to my home in Wolverhampton. I could tell I wouldn't want leave here, and it's only been twenty-five minutes since we arrived.

"Jack, we're here," my dad announced, violently shaking my shoulder in a very successful attempt to get me out of my tired trance. We kindly thanked the driver as we exited the taxi and collected our belongings. I lagged behind my parents as we slowly made our way to the entrance of the hotel. I was amazed and in a whole new trance as we entered.

There was a bright chandelier at the top of the extremely high ceiling. That was the first thing I noticed. I felt like if I touched anything it would break. There was fancy and expensive looking white leather funiture everywhere, with the exception of some red velvet. It looked like it was Valentine's Day central here. There was fancy flowers and vases that could easily break if they even made slight contact with the floor everywhere. 

I didn't know if this place would be a dream on Cloud Nine or a nightmare. I guess it was my clumsiness's choice. I never liked leaving the decision to my clumsiness. I always knew it decide on leaning my body every which way until they kicked me out because I had turned into a bull at a china shop.

"Okay, Jack, I think we need to get you. into the room so that you can sleep. You look like you're ready to pass out right here. But be careful, you might break the floor," my mom said lovingly, whispering the last part as a joke; I guess she had realized the same theory about the breakable things like I have. We both chuckled and waited for my father to come back with the key.

When he finally did, I saw a glimpse of the key. It looked just as breakable as everything else in this hotel. "Do I even want to stay here?" I thought to myself. It was overwhelming that if I made one wrong move here, I could break an expensive vase, or shake the ground enough to make the chandelier fall. Oh boy, this will be difficult.

"Okay, Boy," my dad said in his stern, very military like voice, "let's get you to bed so you can finally sleep." "I think that's exactly what he needs," my mother agreed. I nodded my head and followed my parents to the room we'd be staying at. I felt like I was role playing as a duck. I was even tempted to quack and waddle. QUACK. WADDLE.

My mom looked back to make sure I wasn't too far behind and waited for me to catch up. "Muuum, I'm fifteen. You don't need to wait up for me," I complained in my natural British accent "Oh, quit complaining," she said.

We finally reached the room and I got my clothes and went to the bathroom to change. We were all sharing a room so I had no privacy for the next week. "Niiiice," I thought to myself when the thought randomly occured to me. I changed into an old football (American soccer) of mine and some pajama bottoms. I immediately layed on the bed and crashed. I was exhausted and ready for the adventure that New York would bring me.