1. Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
650 words max
I used to have a lot of stuffed animals. My bed was piled so high with them that I would blend in with them while I slept. When I was 5, my dad thought it would be fun to use my massive quantities of stuffed animals to help him take on an alter ego: the tickle monster. Every night before I went to sleep, I would hide in my mountains of stuffed animals, and my dad would try to find me: our mini game of hide-and-seek. When he would find me, he would become the tickle monster and tickle me until I laughed so hard could barely breathe. Once I would regain control of myself, he would tuck me into bed and kiss me goodnight.
Every night I was sure that that time the tickle monster wouldn't find me; I would move around all of my stuffed animals and and try hiding in different spots in my bed (the many different places I could hide in my twin sized bed), yet every night he would still find me. Each night would end with the tickle monster tickling me and our nightly game of hide-and-seek became our "special thing."
Even when my jealous sister tried to join in on the fun, hide-and-seek was still just our "special thing."
One night became a not-so-ordinary night when my dad tickled me so relentlessly I projectile vomited all over my sheets. My dad and I (but mostly my dad) had to clean up all of my sheets, my stuffed animals, and me. Luckily for me, I got to stay up well past my bedtime. Our fun "special thing" quickly became synonymous with cleaning up vomit, so that was the last night we played hide-and-seek before bed.
We tried to find a new "special thing," making breakfast for my mom every weekend, practicing basketball in the park, and gardening. None of these things were a sufficient replacement because my siblings always got to tag along.
We never found a new "special thing." My dad passed away when I was seven. I barely understood what death was, so much so I went to school the day after he passed away because I had a Leprechaun trap to turn in.
Although I can't really remember my dad, I'm glad we were able to share our "special thing." It may have ended poorly, but I'm thankful that my memories with him are so joyful. Moving forward, I try finding the "special things" in every relationship I have. Finding a "special thing" with all of my friends and family gives me a way to remember everyone by, and a small reminder that he's always still here.
I know this essay isn't the greatest so I'd really appreciate any and all criticism! Thank you!
650 words max
I used to have a lot of stuffed animals. My bed was piled so high with them that I would blend in with them while I slept. When I was 5, my dad thought it would be fun to use my massive quantities of stuffed animals to help him take on an alter ego: the tickle monster. Every night before I went to sleep, I would hide in my mountains of stuffed animals, and my dad would try to find me: our mini game of hide-and-seek. When he would find me, he would become the tickle monster and tickle me until I laughed so hard could barely breathe. Once I would regain control of myself, he would tuck me into bed and kiss me goodnight.
Every night I was sure that that time the tickle monster wouldn't find me; I would move around all of my stuffed animals and and try hiding in different spots in my bed (the many different places I could hide in my twin sized bed), yet every night he would still find me. Each night would end with the tickle monster tickling me and our nightly game of hide-and-seek became our "special thing."
Even when my jealous sister tried to join in on the fun, hide-and-seek was still just our "special thing."
One night became a not-so-ordinary night when my dad tickled me so relentlessly I projectile vomited all over my sheets. My dad and I (but mostly my dad) had to clean up all of my sheets, my stuffed animals, and me. Luckily for me, I got to stay up well past my bedtime. Our fun "special thing" quickly became synonymous with cleaning up vomit, so that was the last night we played hide-and-seek before bed.
We tried to find a new "special thing," making breakfast for my mom every weekend, practicing basketball in the park, and gardening. None of these things were a sufficient replacement because my siblings always got to tag along.
We never found a new "special thing." My dad passed away when I was seven. I barely understood what death was, so much so I went to school the day after he passed away because I had a Leprechaun trap to turn in.
Although I can't really remember my dad, I'm glad we were able to share our "special thing." It may have ended poorly, but I'm thankful that my memories with him are so joyful. Moving forward, I try finding the "special things" in every relationship I have. Finding a "special thing" with all of my friends and family gives me a way to remember everyone by, and a small reminder that he's always still here.
I know this essay isn't the greatest so I'd really appreciate any and all criticism! Thank you!