New York was amazing especially at night. When billboards flashed, cars honked, and streams of people hustled and bustled out of nearbye shops. This was the Big Leagues, where the All-stars were. This was the Big Apple. But the best part of NY was Times Square on New Years Eve where crowds of people stood packed together like sardines, waiting for the clock to strike twelve. That's where Boein was now, up on his dad's shoulders, taking everything in and just plain out enjoying it. Then it happened, twelve long gongs sounded and there was a huge explosion of laughter, clapping, cheering, and fireworks. It was louder than a Knicks game when Carmello hit a game-winning three in game seven of the national championship. Boein yelled along with everyone until his voice was so horse all he could manage to get out was a short squeak.
This wasn't all though. Millions of balloons erupted into the air, blotting out the sky with all different colors. Boein yawned. It was 1:00 in the morning and he wasn't used to being out this late at night. He rubbed his eyes.
"Time to go." Boein's dad said, hoisting him of his shoulders.
Boein didn't resist, didn't argue. He was to tired too. He couldn't help though to take one last glance at Times Square with its cool decor around every street light, every archway.
This was the real New York. Not the New York you hear on the news about gangs and drugs. No, in real life, at least in Boein's life, New York was a magical place. Always was, always will be.
As he walked to the car, everything seemed great for him. He lived in a awesome place, had cool friends, and a great family. Well, everybody but is little sister Camie. Life was good.
Back in his bed, Boein could still hear the shouts and whistles back at Times Square, fading into the night.
