Marching Bands of Manhattan

Manhattan Memoirs

The warm city breeze rushed through my hair. My palms pressed against the top of the edge of the skyscraper. The scent of industrial air filled the atmosphere and city lights beamed, glistening through my pupils. I sighed gently... slightly out of frustration. 

I didn't want to leave.

Yeah, okay so my family roots are from Tennessee, but I was born here. 

I'm from Manhattan.

And I loved every second of it.

I loved walking on early mornings to get breakfast at the usual place with my friends. The anticipation of ordering my favorite plate of pancakes, then devouring each slice with warm maple syrup and creamy butter. I loved the afternoon cruises around the city to Times Square on our penny boards and our late night walks to Haagen Dazs. And I how could I possibly forget our weekends at Manhattan Beach and Coney Island. The city was full of surprises, and like they say, it never sleeps. And rarely did I because there was so much to do. I was one of those people who tried to live life to its fullest, and I believed I did. I mean, we didn't do anything illegal. My friends (and family) and I just had fun. And sometimes we even played jokes on each other. I had so many memories, that I almost considered that I had too many.

Like there was that one time last summer when I went surfing with my friends, and someone decided to play "The Boy Who Cried Wolf", shark edition. I swear I almost cried. I hated sharks. And I hated how the guy decided to play that game. On the bright side, he was really cute and was in great shape. At least if there really was a shark, he would maybe (hopefully) save me.

Then on Halloween, we decided to board around the city in our costumes. My face was painted as a sugar skull, and I wore some kind of dark, Tim Burton-esque costume. The same guy who cried "shark!" was DeadMau5 (which made me swoon) and then the rest were either a superhero, or a horror movie figure.

Then on Christmas, our school marching band got to be in that parade that was aired across the US. I was happy that day, because I got to see so many famous people. And of course I loved performing and participating in the parade.

And the most haunting memory of them all was when one of my closest friends was standing on the edge of a building. I screamed and yelled and cried while they tried so gently to calm her down and get her the hell away from the edge. I could still remember her face; her cheeks were smeared with tear lines of black mascara, and her eyeliner smudged below her eyes. Her body chest trembled so much that I thought she would just lose balance from her tripping lungs alone. She never told us why she almost did it. Then again, she never really told us anything about things like that. She immediately went to therapy afterwards, and now she's doing okay. That was probably the scariest moment of my life.

And with my family... well let's just say we had our ups and downs like every family in the world. I tried to remember the ups more. I wanted to be as optimistic as I could. It can get really challenging at times, and there were even those moments when I gave up and the downs just dominanted my mind. But the next day, I try again and remember the ups. We did so many things together. I geniunely did love my parents. My dad was that kind of dad any girl could ask for. He listened, and he was gentle. He was overprotective at times, but I laughed at how silly it made him seem. He always tried to make time for my siblings and I. And my mom. Well, she was more serious. She was caring though. And supportive. But it was harder to try to spend time with her since she had the busier schedule. Maybe the move out of the big city would change that...

There are some memories I want to forget, but it's too difficult to do so. They're still stuck somewhere in the back of my mind, and occasionally, I recall them. I guess it's true that you learn from experiences you regret, then they stick in your head like a tattoo so you won't forget about it and to prevent you from doing it again. Isn't there some saying? Or maybe it's just me.

I don't know. 

I watched as the traffic slowed with every hour. I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to cherish my last moments in Manhattan... awake.