Tremors of the city vibrated beneath my feet, singing and music resignated above me and the concrete shakes as people moved from train to train. The tide of activity was pushing me away from the automatic doors, the undertow was sweeping me away from activity and several voices in my head were calling me. I turned to see where I’d been but it was already too late. My family was already boarding a train to ChinaTown and I was moving in the opposite direction of them. I tried to force my way through the crowd but the bustling and the rush of people moving from place to place kept pushing me back. All I could see was the petrified expression imprinted on my mother and father’s face as the automatic doors on the train slowly closed. In that moment, I felt as if I would never see them again. 

    I had to ask for help, quickly. I suddenly approached an old man that was wobbling back and forth happily playing the guitar on the side of the subway station. 

    I scrambled for words. “Excuse me sir, do you know how to get to Chinatown from here?” 

He closed his eyes and started humming a melody, “Alright lil’ lady, you’re gonna take these steps here, walk up, take a left...” but before he could finish giving me the rest of the directions, he twirled away, fiddling his guitar and vanished within the crowd. I took a deep breath and took his word for it, and before for I knew it, I was in a whole new world.