The clock struck twelve. It was New Year’s Eve in Rome. There were fireworks colored every shade of the rainbow covering the sky. People were hugging, kissing, and shouting at the top of their lungs, “Felice Anno Nuovo.”
My family and I were celebrating in a little restaurant at the edge of town. It was a stone building with two floors: the main floor being a formal, quiet dining room, and the basement being a party room. My family and I were in the basement dancing on the confetti and puddles of champagne that covered the entire dance floor. The DJ let his music blare through his speakers, as strangers twirled around the room together. Although downstairs the party was just beginning for some, my mother grabbed my sister and me and told us it was time to head back to the apartment. We trooped upstairs to the quiet dining room, passed the older couples finishing their romantic evening meal, and stepped outside in the dark, cold night per orders from my father to hail a taxi.
Waiting for my father to finish paying the bill, my sister and I pranced on the cobblestone street, attempting to keep ourselves as warm as possible. My mom, sister, and I noticed a group of young boys playing with fireworks. The boys did not position the firecrackers towards the sky, but to the buildings surrounding them and us. Occasional loud bangs pierced our ears. Looking over at them, we saw a new layer of the wall of a peach-colored building peel off, floating slowly to the ground.
Finally my father came out of the restaurant. But since we still couldn’t locate a taxi, and there was no nearby subway open, our only option was to walk six miles back to our apartment in the below-freezing temperatures. We shoved our hands deep into our pockets, concealing them from the cold, while our toes felt as though they could snap off at any second.
We turned onto a long street with brown barren trees lining its edge. We walked up the middle of it, just beginning to make out the Roman Coliseum awaiting us at the end. Immediately its beauty took my breath away. It remained tall and proud against the night sky. Although I felt like I was slowly turning to ice, I could not help but feel a sense of excitement and curiosity course through my body. My breath shortened and my heart rate raced. My eyes widened taking in this historic monument.
We eventually reached the Coliseum. We stood still admiring the enormous amphitheatre. Pink and purple strobe lights lit up the monument. The texture of brick-faced concrete was difficult to distinguish, as the lights consumed the Roman building. In contrast to its past of thousands of people and animals violently slaughtered in the gladiatorial games, the Coliseum looked extremely festive, which seemed fitting for such a night.
On the grounds that lay before the Coliseum, a concert packed with millions of civilians and tourists flooded the area with noise. People stumbled through the streets shouting, singing, and peeing on the stone walls. Although the citizens alone were loud enough to be heard for miles, the singers on stage felt it necessary to strategically place numerous stereos along the sides of the streets, broadcasting their performance to all and just emphasizing their powerful presence.
Even though I was just a tourist, listening and admiring this whirlwind around me, I felt a part of the noise, a part of the fun. I forgot about the bitter cold, as a wide smile beamed across my face. I did not want to leave. I did not even want to blink if that meant missing a second of this remarkable night.
Standing in the middle of the road, a policeman observed the wave of celebration. My father approached him and inquired if there was a subway station open close by. We walked another two subway stops and finally reached the one the man said would be open. However, the gates were closed and locked shut with a big, fat padlock. There was a group surrounding the entrance, and every twenty minutes a worker would unlock the gates. He would allow no more than thirty people to enter the subway and then shut the gates once more. The minutes and seconds began ticking slower, as our lips turned blue and our bodies began shivering uncontrollably. At last, the man reached out his arm, layered in coats, and permitted our entrance. We filed into the subway car and departed.
My family and I arrived back at our apartment at 4:00 in the morning. The smile still shone clear across my face as I finally closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.