Writing Feedback / My Relationship With My brother, A memoir [3]

This is a memoir I wrote about my relationship with my brother. Please help me edit it and make it better. I think that I may have some grammer issues. Thank you! I will return the favor :)

When I was little, my family lived in Sydney, Australia. We lived in a house right along the harbor shore, directly across from the Sydney Opera House. We used to believe that it was where all the seagulls lived because the building reminded us of a seagull. Our home was our magic castle, atop of a small hill, and the happiest place on earth to us. Our long steep driveway was surrounded by grass, bushes, and flowers by the dozens. My parent's room was at the far end of the house, while mine was next to my brother's. When I looked out one of the many windows in the hallway, I could see directly down into my backyard filled with tall, vibrant yellow sunflowers which we would disassemble in an attempt to make sunflower seeds.

Michael, who is just twelve and a half months younger than I, would do anything I asked of him. We were never apart and often napped together in my tiny twin bed. We loved each other so much, that we even played the same sports and activities. When I decided to start gymnastics, Michael decided he wanted to practice gymnastics, too. And when I signed up for ballet, he too wanted to sign up for ballet. He was heartbroken when he learned that he would be in a different class so he decided not to take ballet classes after all; instead, he would sit in the back everyday and watch me practice. We eventually were able to practice martial arts together.

My brother and I shared many wild escapades as young children. In our own little world, our adventures always seemed, daring, spontaneous, and perilous. We would make the most ordinary circumstance into an adventure that somehow always landed us into heaps of trouble. While we never always saw eye to eye, the one thing we did agree upon was to have fun and cause as much havoc as we possibly could. Our childish antics caused us to be very close, causing my parents to call us "partners in crime".

I remember a time when all we would do is play with our toy cars. These beloved toy cars of ours were red and had a yellow roof, two doors and even a steering wheel! We operated them by running our feet along the bottom onto the pavement, similar to the cars used in the Flintstones. We loved racing down the driveway as fast as we could and one day I came up with what I thought was a very clever idea: if Michael laid on top of the roof of the car, it would seem like he going was much faster, as if he was flying! My little brother adored my idea, and at my prompting, climbed on top of the car. Just as my mother began walking out of the house, and before she could see what mischief we were getting into, we were off! I could see my brother's tiny fingers gripping the roof for dear life and hear his excited giggles. I thought to myself, " this is the best idea ever!" However, when I got to the steep part of the driveway, and used my feet to brake in order to slow down, my brother was unprepared; he lost his grip and went flying through the air and into the bushes! Luckily, the bushes broke my brother's fall and he escaped with only a few cuts and scratches. I was worried that Michael would be angry with me, but surprisingly, he wanted to do it again!

One time when we had to share a room in a small apartment because our family was moving. Michael had crafted a plan of starting a rat circus, where he wanted to train our pet rat, Rainbow, to walk across a tightrope and jump through hoops. We tied one end of our jump rope to the armoire and the other end to our bunk bed and placed Rainbow on top. We tried to lure Rainbow across with a bit of cheese, but she refused to move. So I decided to lead by example. Since I was too big to walk on the narrow tightrope, I attempted to hang from the rope, planning to pull myself across as one would do when playing on monkey bars. However, the second I hung onto the rope, the hefty armoire came crashing down onto the bunk bed, narrowly missing my head! Although my pride was hurt, we were not injured and we were never able to start our rat circus. We found rainbow hiding in the closet amongst the shoes and returned her to the safety of her cage.

As we grew older, we grew apart and our relationship has changed because we both have different interests and activities. I know that I can still count on my brother for whatever I need, despite the fact that we have grown apart. My hope is that we can rekindle our friendship, because I miss the relationship we used to have. I will be leaving for college in a matter of months, and I know that I will miss him immensely.

Undergraduate / HOW I BECAME MORE CONFIDENT (reflective application essay) [NEW]

My assignment was to write a reflective essay that could be used as a college application essay. Please help me by editing it and by telling me what needs to be expanded upon or changed. Thank you so much!

I was sprinting across the field to help an athlete who had just collapsed, I could
feel my pulse rising out of the normal 72 beats per minute range, thoughts pounded
through my head: the biceps insert at your radial tuberosity, originate at the corchoid
process and the superior portion of the glenoid fossa. As I approached, I knew that I was
capable of doing whatever was necessary, whether it was a shoulder injury or a conscious
evaluation. I took control of the situation, confident that I had all the knowledge needed.
I can recall any origin, insertion, or action of any muscle I learned last year as a
junior (level 1) in Northgate Sports Medicine. Not only did I learn more anatomy than I
ever thought my brain could handle, 15 different tape jobs (any of which I could
complete in under five minutes), and how to deal with an athlete who was conscious,
choking or in need of CPR, I learned a valuable lesson in believing in myself.
Carrying my five pound sports medicine binder, stuffed with neatly arranged
notes, I spent every minute reviewing flashcards. Sports Med was the first class I had
taken where I wasn't studying for the A, but for myself. I wanted to prove to myself that I
could succeed. I was tired of second guessing myself.

June quickly came and it was certification time- the one hour practical when my
knowledge and confidence would be truly tested. A scenario was presented and I had
multiple athletes who needed my help, while questions were being screamed in my face.
This hour is what I had been working tirelessly toward all year, the cumulative test of
everything that I had learned that year. The level 2's (second year students) administered
the test while trying to make you crack. As a level two, success is not achievable unless I
had confidence. How are athletes supposed to trust me if I do not trust myself?