Snow is Obviously More Important Than The Beatles

Debbie's mother closed the window to try to stop the drone of screaming reaching their hotel room.
"These children never stop screaming." she chuckled at her husband who was sitting with his new camera, shining it.
Debbie kept on eating her breakfast which consisted of cornflakes and fruit. She didn't understand why they were people yelling outside their hotel.
"Get dressed, we're going to see the Beatles*." her father patted her back.
She looked at him confused and kept on eating. Her mother brushed her short light brown hair. She then took her to her room and got her warmly dressed.
"You're going with daddy, okay? I'll be there later." she kissed her.
"To where?" Debbie asked in a small voice.
"Central park, its a nice park, yeah?" her mother walked her to her father's awaiting hand.
"Come quick." he had his camera around his neck and a pen on his already scarlet ears.
Debbie walked to the car swiftly because it seemed where they were going was important.
Her father worked for London Daily Express reporter, and his boss assigned him to get pictures of the Beatles. That meant he would have to take his family on a short vacation to America. They got there two days before the Beatles arrived in the JFK airport.
Debbie looked out her window to see older boys and girls running around the city. They were wearing shirts that had four faces and hearts surrounding the faces. She didn't understand why though. Debbie assumed they were what her father was talking about, 'The Beatles'. The street was crammed with impatient rude cars. Police were controlling the unruly traffic. The buildings in front of her were towering the tiny cars. Debbie suddenly felt like she was apart of the ground. It was a little too big and crowded for her comfortable standards.
They soon got out of the traffic to a white powdered park. It looked beautiful in her eyes and she wanted to play with the remaining slow.
"Can I play in the snow daddy?" her face lit up.
"Later Deb, later."
She sighed, but at least she would play with the snow. Her father parked the car that they had borrowed and helped Debbie out.
"Careful, its slippery." Debbie almost fell but was saved by her dad.
"Come on now."
They walked for a few short minutes until they reached people who wore black coats and some woman who stood nearby.
"Give us a smile! Yeah like that!"
"Wheres George?"
"Hands up. Reach for the sky!"
"Come on give us scream."
More screams from the reporters filled the New York Air. Her father met up with a man and they shook hands and patted Debbie's head. He led them to the crowd.
Debbie could not see any other kid there...or anything. Taller men stood in front of her. They talked to much, she thought. Her father got out his camera and held it over his shoulders to snap a few pictures.
"Come on Deb, get in."
"I can't see daddy, whats happening?"
Her questioned was ignored. The man who shook her father's hand got down next to her.
"Do you want to see?" he offered.
Debbie nodded and she was whisked on his broad shoulders. She saw three boys standing in front of them. They were posing, and making the reporters laugh. She didn't understand the jokes they were telling.
"Bring 'er here, bring that child!" A reported looked at Debbie's direction.
She looked behind her to see another girl her age to play with but only saw powdered trees in the distant.
Other reporters started shouting for the same request.
"Go in Deb!" her father encouraged her. She was set down on the ground and being pushed to go to the front of the crowd. She shook her head a little, felt nervous. She didn't want to go in. Debbie turned her head towards the crowd and could no longer see her daddy. John crouched down to her level and grinned.
"Hello." he opened up his arms.
"Don't be scared, just a few photos, okay?" Paul nodded his head at her.
John hoisted her up on his shoulder. All Debbie could see was sea of photographers* flashing pictures of her. The flash made her jump a few times and hurt her hazel eyes. She desperately searched for her father, but could still  not see him. Ringo put a hand up on her arm to hold her up.
"Just say cheese!" Ringo smiled at her.
Debbie smiled a bit but stopped after a few seconds, everything was too scary to smiled.
"What's your name?" John asked her.
"Debbie." she quietly answered.
"And how old are you, misses?"
"Five." she quivered out.
"Wow, so you're almost a lady, hm?" Paul exclaimed.
She nodded.
"Just a few more photos, eh?" Ringo added.
Debbie started thinking about what the girls were wearing earlier. Four boys were not with her, only three. She turned to Ringo and asked him in a whispering tone.
"He's sick."
"Y'know." John sniffled is nose and made a face.
Debbie smiled at them and turned around to see the growing crowd again.
They posed on the cloudy to what seemed like hours. She still could not find her dad. Debbie scanned the photographers, who all looked the same, again. The five year old saw her mother waving at her, standing next to her daddy.
"It's okay, I'm here*." he shouted and snapped more photos.
"Alright now, they have to leave to rehearsal." A man announced.
"Well, we have to leave now Misses Debbie." John got her back on her feet.
"Bye Debbie!" they knelt down and waved at her.
She waved back and ran to her mother.
"How was it?" she fixed her hair.
She shrugged.
"Can I play in the snow now?"