Personal Narrative Essay: The Stairway Of Dreams

I had been dreaming of this moment nearly my entire life. Movies, T.V., even books, displayed this astounding city I ventured in, almost as if it were a sacred land. Being raised in the Deep South with nothing but wilderness, rusty pick-up trucks, and small, run-down towns, convinced me that a city as enchanting as Manhattan could possibly exist. Yet, here I am in Newark, New Jersey, boarding a train to Grand Central Station, about to meet my future stepmom 's sister, Bekah. I had been on an airplane many times, but never a train. Accents were thrown around like a worn baseball. Italian, Scottish, New Jersey, New York, even a few Russian voices echoed off of the station walls. The cultural differences of so many people in just one building, absolutely amazed me. Everyone was equal and automatically accepted, continuing the routine of their own lives. Only one hundred years ago, this kind of togetherness could never have been imagined. I …show more content…
Each step felt like an entire mile. I wanted to be at the exit, I was ready to see if it was real. After making our way through the station, I saw steps. In my own head, I nicknamed them “the Stairway of Dreams” because, ironically, Hollywood had already established that New York City is the city for dreamers. I carefully walked up each step, with my head down. Adrenaline pumped to my heart, causing it to beat at high speeds. I had never reached this degree of excitement before. One, two, three, I count silently as we step up into the streets. Then, I opened my eyes and time stopped. The skyscrapers looked as if they were reaching out to the afternoon sun. My neck popped while trying to find their highest point. Women, men, boys, and girls pushed past each other, not pausing for a single second. New York City was real, and I was there between those grey and black jewels that made the city unique, that made it possible. I could finally believe in