I Got Like Sewing Needles

Then, I heard footsteps getting louder and louder, so quickly hid in the closet. I could hear my heart beating faster and faster as the person kept getting closer. About an hour later, I saw a shadow of a strangely shaped person leaving the room and locking the door. I was relieved and scared at the same time, I didn't know how to get out. So, I first tried to escape out of the black and blue colored window. It was very hard to open,

For once I felt the sudden need to be near other people, so I headed for the door quickly. The street was deserted. Strewn across the road were all my belongings. Why were they here and not in my cardboard box where I slept in Well Street? Who had done this? Were they thieves? Not that I had much to steal. I began gathering everything up. My blankets had been shredded. There were dents in things, bits pulled off other things and generally messed with. Even the things that used to be usefully were destroyed. Why would anyone even bother to do this? As I looked at my surroundings I began to feel a little disorientated. The ground seemed to move. Then I felt distinctly uneasy. Was he back? At a distance I thought I could see people so I hurried in their direction but they never seemed to get nearer. At once, I was then surrounded by them! No faces! They’ve got no faces! I closed my eyes and when I opened them the people were gone. I suddenly felt as if I was being watched. I glanced around furtively and out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a lion! I screamed but it was gone. As I again looked around I thought I could see dozens of pairs of eyes behind every window staring at me malevolently. I turned and ran. Breathlessly, I re-entered the church and slammed the door behind me.

To begin lets take a look at the habitation styles of NYC. As one of the largest metropolitan cities in the United States, with “About 1 in every 38 people living in the United States residing in New York City” according to The NYC Department of Planning. 1 With such a high population volume and so little landscape NYC has created a different style of living, when compared to other areas in the United States. NYC has a large concentration of skyscraper and high-rise buildings that make up the architecture of the city in order to make up for the lack of space. The image below from NYCgo.com provides skyline image of NYC to show just how many skyscrapers dominate the city. 2

My legs are shaking with pain, but I need to know where I am and what strange things lie outside of that door way. Slowly I am making my way there, I hear people having a conversation just outside. I haven’t a clue what they are saying, it seems to be in some odd language. Finally I’m at the door. Terrified, I grab the knob and start to open it. It squeaks when I swing it open. In the hall I see no one, just white walls with white tile. “What the,” I say to out loud. I could have sworn I heard someone. My eye catches my room number, 387, it has my name on it. I look right and left, but see nothing expect florescent lighting and shut doors. I go to the door across from mine and try to open it. Locked, that’s odd. I try the next one, locked once again. I keep going, now at room 365 I give the knob a turn and it actually comes open. I hesitantly wander into the area. It looks the same as mine, minus the painting on one of the walls. It is an extremely abnormal painting. It depicts an out of the ordinary creature. “Why would this be in a hospital?” I whisper to myself.

While considering spending a holiday or a weekend with the family in a beautiful city, New York City should be at the top of the list. A considerable number of people get puzzled by the tall buildings, well structured highways and the well light streets when they visit for the same time. When planning a tour to New York City, one might wonder how a human being could have possibly built such tall buildings. The virtue that New York City is one of the largest cities in the world makes a person think that it is a paradise. In most cases, it is highly likely that a person who has never been to New York City could easily get lost due to the size of the city. The expansiveness of the city has generated economic gains.

Walking home, suddenly I realize that nothing looks familiar.. I get out my flashlight that I have in my backpack. When I turn it on it starts flickering. It eventually starts working and I just keep walking down the alley. “POW” “POW” “POW.” Gunshots?!? Why is there gunshots.Is there someone after me? Then my flashlight turns off, its pitch dark I can't see anything.Then I hear screaming “AHHHHHHHH.” I start running in a straight line because I can't see anything. All of the sudden someone throws a bag over my head and knocks me out. I wake up tied in a chair with just a light. Thinking to myself “Am I in a room?” Then someone just starts

There was no answer as I got to the bottom of the staircase I felt someone's breath on my neck I turned around no one was there. I walked into the kitchen and multiple plates were broken on the floor. I started to clean it up, but as I was I kept hearing noises and the wind rushing past me. I got up to check if a door was open and it was closed. As I was walking back to the kitchen to finish cleaning I saw a woman in black standing in my kitchen.

We turn down a road that quickly turns into a dirt one. The road was very rough and rugged. There were pot holes everywhere and when you think there was no more it would start up again. The car jerked and jumped and swayed every which way. At one point my head nearly touched the roof, thats how bad the holes and bumps are. The trees curve inward, giving it an arch appearance. It blanketed the road with ominous shadows. The shadows start moving again, not from the wind, but from whatever was hiding among them. Up a little ways I could see a small cabin.

The sounds of the city penetrated the walls of the cab as we drove through the streets of Manhattan. I could hardly wait to partake in the action that was happening outside. The buildings themselves were an amazing site to behold. The buildings took on personalities of their own. Each building was bigger and more graceful than the next. When lights were added to the mix it was a dazzling combination. The city itself felt like a great big hug, and I felt overwhelmed by its power. The city allowed me to become part of it just like many others many years ago who immigrated to this awesome city. As I was looking out of the cab I finally got to see in person the sight of all sights; Times Square. The main juncture of

When I arrive back at my house around ten minutes later, I notice something different, almost unsettling. I don't know what it is exactly. To the eye, everything seems calm, quiet. Only to me, it's too quiet, even in my small neighborhood. As I walk up to my front door, my breath catches in my throat. The door is cracked open, and the lock has been jimmied.

It all begun when I strolled down a main street into an obsolete gas station and felt that it was somehow eerie, eerie to the queerness of having a shadow dart in front of me and disappear as fast as it emerged. I was roughly two blocks away back home when I suddenly got hit by a stiff object on the back of my head. I fell to the ground, unable to breathe evenly anymore. I gasped for air, but that didn’t seem enough. Whoever was after me was undistinguishable, I tried to gaze around but there wasn’t anything to be seen, just the sound of footsteps impending to where I stay still. I considered dashing to the nearest doorbell to seek succor, but the voice in my head overcame the sound of my fiercely throbbing heart that echoed within my ears,

My eyes dart around me searching for routes of escape. The moon illuminates the corridor with a ghostly light ad a soft wind wafts through eliciting groans from a nearby door. One bare foot after the other I pad towards the door. I fear the door may creak if I open it to slowly so I opt to swing it open and make a fast break up the stairs. Voices begin to clamour behind me and I know I’ve been spotted. There is a curtained window at the top of the first flight of stairs that looks over the great skyline of the city. I know not what sort of madness drove me to step out of it but I did. I now stood on the window ledge the glass of the window my only support. The city lights before me twinkle with a dazzlingly reverie and the sounds of traffic down below is too loud in my ears. The wind out here is stronger too, willowing about me caring voices that beckon me to death. I close my eyes and pray no one dares open this

Walking slowly up to the small four story building, I glanced quickly over my shoulder as something blurry caught my attention. I clutched my purse turning around to investigate, there he was. Across the street, blankly staring at me. He knows where I live. He’s going to kill me. I stepped a few paces backwards, reaching for the protection of the gate behind me. But as quickly of a blink of an eye, he was gone. My breath hitched. He was just there. He couldn’t have just apparat into the sky. Could he? No, I shake my head assertively, laughing nervously as I enter the security of the apartment. It was probably someone else, who resembled him. That’s what makes the most sense. What if it was him? The thought lingered until I reached the third

Manhattan’s grid layout assists residents and tourists alike find their way through the neighborhoods. Nevertheless, the simple organization of city blocks divides the city into fragmented areas waiting to be discovered. In his essay, “Walking in the City”, Michel de Certeau observes Manhattan’s layout from the 110th floor of the World Trade Center (Certeau, 91). He describes the “texturology” of the skyline as “a sea in the middle of the sea” which “lifts up the skyscrapers over Wall Street, sinks down at Greenwich, then rises again to the crests of Midtown, quietly passes over Central Park and finally undulates off into the distance beyond Harlem” (91). This visible stratification of the city is only readable when “lifted out of the city’s grasp” (92). Similarly, the vantage point affords a unique opportunity or the “all-seeing power” to read the “urban text [walkers] write without being able to read it” (91). Certeau posits that “the street geometrically defined by urban planning is transformed into a space by walkers” (117). Walking helps write the narrative of a street and also unfolds “the stories accumulated in a place,” stories that are “becoming private and sink into the secluded placed in neighborhoods”

When I walk to the Museum of modern art from the subway station, I notice that most of the districts in central Manhattan put an overwhelming feeling on me. Looking up to more than two hundred meters tall skyscrapers, I feel individual’s insignificance or even fear toward the monster that erects from the ground. Comparing Mid- town to East Village, East Village' buildings are much lower and the relationships with the surrounding and organisms are much more comfortable.