Read my essay





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Discus: College Admissions: December 2003 Archive: July 2003 Archive: Read my essay
By Unicorn (Unicorn) on Wednesday, July 09, 2003 - 01:02 am: Edit

here it is. tell me what u think, and whether the subjectmatter would be appropriate. BTW, i've already applied to uni, and just want to see what u think...maybe i shouldn't have used it.

also, to those who r thinking of copying it, i sent the essay to 11 colleges during last year's process...

A good bad day…

On my left was Mr. Cool himself, with glistening, spiky hair and a tall, intimidating physique, sitting comfortably atop his $500, v-suspended bicycle. On my right and considerably below the two of us was Short-Round, bumbling down the road, his squat frame tenuously balanced in the absence of trailer-wheels. It was three weeks after my 12th birthday, and my friends and I were on our way to the mall, speeding along on our bikes whilst chatting excitedly about everything from yo-yos to Lego. The scene was set for a perfect evening – or so I thought – with a movie, dinner, and perhaps even a belated ‘surprise’ gift. In hindsight, though, the irony of my position was extreme, for never could I have imagined what was to ultimately come.

As we made our way to the toy section of a bustling, labyrinthine department store, my two companions started whispering in hostile, strained tones.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Mr. Cool doesn’t want to pay.”
“Oh,” I was visibly disappointed, but I put up a brave face, “It’s ok, guys. Seriously, it doesn’t matter.” Looking back, my naivety seems ridiculous, almost laughable.
“No. Mr. Cool doesn’t want to pay at all.”
This time it hit me. Hard. As it turned out, he had done it before, and he now stood there in front of me, eyes gleaming, as if he were about to introduce me to the wonder of our universe. How I responded at that moment surprised everyone, especially myself; I agreed.

As I stood in the aisle, alert and erect, like a sentry watching for danger, Mr. Cool swiftly pocketed two yo-yos, and when he was done we charged out, not even glancing at Short-Round – not even noticing his bewildered, concerned expression. Upon exiting the store we fled into a stairwell, and like pirates we examined our treasure. Then, out of nowhere, appeared a little Malay man, almost friendly-looking, but the sternness of his words betrayed his grim mission: “Don’t move.” My head was spinning as he marched us back to the store, right past Short-Round who, incidentally, had stayed exactly where we left him. This time, however, he was pale, his face tinged with terror, staring blankly as we drifted past him. How ironic it was that he, the bumbling clown who needed trailer-wheels, turned out to be the true Mr. Cool. Eventually, we arrived at a heavy door marked ‘House Detective,’ behind which waited three very unhappy men.

Our captors made it their purpose to terrify us out of our wits, with false calls to the police inquiring about space for ‘two more troublemakers’ in prison. Mr. Cool had turned into Mr. Pathetic, weeping despite his ‘coolness’ and ‘courage,’ while I was panicking, unable to imagine what I had got myself into. Crimes like ours sent people to jail for years, especially in XXXplaceXXX…

But luck was with me that Wednesday. The management decided not to press charges, so when my parents eventually came to pick me up I just exploded into tears, ashamed, guilty, and angry at the most stupid thing I had ever done. They didn’t scold me – the ‘detectives’ had done enough of that forever – they just consoled me, aware somehow of what I had been through. Mr. Cool was not so lucky, though; his parents sent him off to boarding school for three years. Right then I promised myself I would never do anything like that again, regardless of whom or what it was for. Amongst us at school, doing such things seemed to be fashionable, and children are still doing it, totally unaware of the magnitude of the offence. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time to stop myself; but I realize it was a lesson waiting to happen, and if not then, I would have paid a dearer price later. Those were the two most terrifying and uncomfortable hours of my life, but even still, they served a purpose. My dad put it aptly when he hugged me, “Tonight you learnt a lesson you’ll never forget.”

By Xiggi (Xiggi) on Wednesday, July 09, 2003 - 01:32 am: Edit

Probably not what you expect ... but here it is:

It is slightly entertaining but what is the subject and purpose of the essay?

If it was supposed to be about you, it missed that mark. Do we know anything more about you after reading the essay?

I would not be too worried about anyone copying it. Sorry!

By Serene (Serene) on Wednesday, July 09, 2003 - 01:46 am: Edit

i guess it's a learning experience... but... the name "Mr. Cool" is too misleading that I thought this was one of those alter-ego fantasy type of essay. So it was a bit hard to get your point, lol, maybe that's just me. =)


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