The prompt is to write about a person who has impacted your life. The essay is for my application to Texas A&M, and I'd do anything to be accepted. Any help/criticism is greatly appreciated! Thank you very much!
Dragging my feet into my physics class on what was seemingly a semi-regular Wednesday, I plopped myself down in my seat and pulled out my notebook. Imagining my fluffy pillows and my soft, warm blanket, surely my eyes were glazed over with fantasies of returning to my comforting bed. Pulling out a pen and preparing to zone into my notes in order to block out the rest of the world, the sweet and usually silent girl sitting next to me tapped me on the shoulder. Catching me off guard, I jumped a little and turned my head to hear what she was mumbling. "Hey, you're Katie, right? You might want to go have a look in the F-Hall bathroom. Farthest stall on the right." And my stomach dropped.
The rest of the class period seemed to drag on forever. I watched for hours and hours as the minute hand passed from 9:20 to 9:21. The monotonous and repetitive tone of the bell never sounded so sharp and malicious. I grabbed my backpack and lugged my cinder block feet out of the classroom towards F-Hall. I needed to know what the girl was talking about, but at the same time, I was dreading it. Arriving at a doorway blocked by a cafeteria table, I hoped it was closed due to plumbing issues. I took in a deep breath and walked to my next class. My closest friends, Emma and Nikki, could tell something was off. I explained to them what I'd found out in my last class and they reassured me that it would all be okay. The day continued to mosey on by with little to no haste. After years of waiting for fifth period, I went on my way to band and ran into Emma in the hallway. She pulled out her phone and went to her photos. I knew what was coming. My best friends in the entire world had risked serious trouble and snuck into the school's main restroom behind the table blocking the door, and taken pictures of every stall door and wall. I braced myself. The first picture came on the screen. Covered from edge to edge, top to bottom, the stall had written on it "Katie Call is a whore." And I pushed the phone away from my sight.
This incident being the worst yet, it wasn't the beginning of the mess. Since the start of the school year, I'd faced Christina, a cold-hearted girl who wouldn't give up until she'd torn someone down as far as she could get them. I immediately felt she'd accomplished her goal. I tried my hardest to get her phone number without seeming to have bad intentions. As soon as I got it, I typed out the most sincere text message I possibly could. I begged her to leave me alone, and asked that she pass the word to her friends. I included that the constant bullying was starting to affect my grades and served as an awful addition to my history of depression. After typing the last word to the book that I'd written just for her, I mustered up my confidence and hit send. She didn't hesitate to reply quickly with something almost just as long as mine. In her response, Christina started out with the least hurtful of things she would say to me. She opened with "Don't talk to me, you're worthless." Progressively becoming more and more verbally abusive, she went on to tell me that I wasn't wanted at our school by a single student, and elaborated on this idea for a good four paragraphs. She eventually closed her rampage with a piece of advice. I will forever have in my head, an image of my cell phone screen where I read "Honestly, you might as well kill yourself. Not one person would miss you. Now why am I still responding to you? You're worthless. Please do us all a favor and just die." The bullying hurt. The words were the salt in the wound. I didn't respond to her malevolent message, however shortly after, the one-sided battle leaked onto the social networking sites.
"Why is she still here? Honestly." At the top of my news feed, this status had already obtained over fifty comments. I watched silently as every second a new comment appeared on my screen. After the comments flew past the eighties, I felt compelled to beg, once again. I asked that everyone, please just leave me alone. This led to more and more ridicule, as more girls began sarcastically commenting about how they'd never want to hurt my feelings. People slowly but surely became bored of their efforts to affect me, I assume because I never really let them see how strongly they did so. The status and the graffiti were the peak of the bullying incidents but they most definitely were not the end. As the year came to a close, the hateful posts on Facebook and Twitter continued. The summer finally crept up and I knew the next few months away would be exactly what I'd need.
My experiences with Christina affected me in many ways. First of all, up until my personal encounter with a cold-hearted person, I was always the first to assume that all people were full of good intentions. The hateful words spoken to me by Christina taught me that my peers will always try to keep me from my success. I realized that behind every mean remark is a person with a more deeply rooted issue of their own, and as much as we'd like for our problems to stay within our boundaries, the things that happen to us in our lives change us as people, consequently affecting everyone else we interact with. In the end, it is our decision whether we wear our past in a negative way, or use it to improve our future. Secondly, having this happen directly to me, I've seen in the clearest possible way, the effect that simple words can have on a person. Altogether, Christina's negative actions have led to extremely positive outcomes in my life, altering for the better, the way I view myself, and how I approach very important situations.
Dragging my feet into my physics class on what was seemingly a semi-regular Wednesday, I plopped myself down in my seat and pulled out my notebook. Imagining my fluffy pillows and my soft, warm blanket, surely my eyes were glazed over with fantasies of returning to my comforting bed. Pulling out a pen and preparing to zone into my notes in order to block out the rest of the world, the sweet and usually silent girl sitting next to me tapped me on the shoulder. Catching me off guard, I jumped a little and turned my head to hear what she was mumbling. "Hey, you're Katie, right? You might want to go have a look in the F-Hall bathroom. Farthest stall on the right." And my stomach dropped.
The rest of the class period seemed to drag on forever. I watched for hours and hours as the minute hand passed from 9:20 to 9:21. The monotonous and repetitive tone of the bell never sounded so sharp and malicious. I grabbed my backpack and lugged my cinder block feet out of the classroom towards F-Hall. I needed to know what the girl was talking about, but at the same time, I was dreading it. Arriving at a doorway blocked by a cafeteria table, I hoped it was closed due to plumbing issues. I took in a deep breath and walked to my next class. My closest friends, Emma and Nikki, could tell something was off. I explained to them what I'd found out in my last class and they reassured me that it would all be okay. The day continued to mosey on by with little to no haste. After years of waiting for fifth period, I went on my way to band and ran into Emma in the hallway. She pulled out her phone and went to her photos. I knew what was coming. My best friends in the entire world had risked serious trouble and snuck into the school's main restroom behind the table blocking the door, and taken pictures of every stall door and wall. I braced myself. The first picture came on the screen. Covered from edge to edge, top to bottom, the stall had written on it "Katie Call is a whore." And I pushed the phone away from my sight.
This incident being the worst yet, it wasn't the beginning of the mess. Since the start of the school year, I'd faced Christina, a cold-hearted girl who wouldn't give up until she'd torn someone down as far as she could get them. I immediately felt she'd accomplished her goal. I tried my hardest to get her phone number without seeming to have bad intentions. As soon as I got it, I typed out the most sincere text message I possibly could. I begged her to leave me alone, and asked that she pass the word to her friends. I included that the constant bullying was starting to affect my grades and served as an awful addition to my history of depression. After typing the last word to the book that I'd written just for her, I mustered up my confidence and hit send. She didn't hesitate to reply quickly with something almost just as long as mine. In her response, Christina started out with the least hurtful of things she would say to me. She opened with "Don't talk to me, you're worthless." Progressively becoming more and more verbally abusive, she went on to tell me that I wasn't wanted at our school by a single student, and elaborated on this idea for a good four paragraphs. She eventually closed her rampage with a piece of advice. I will forever have in my head, an image of my cell phone screen where I read "Honestly, you might as well kill yourself. Not one person would miss you. Now why am I still responding to you? You're worthless. Please do us all a favor and just die." The bullying hurt. The words were the salt in the wound. I didn't respond to her malevolent message, however shortly after, the one-sided battle leaked onto the social networking sites.
"Why is she still here? Honestly." At the top of my news feed, this status had already obtained over fifty comments. I watched silently as every second a new comment appeared on my screen. After the comments flew past the eighties, I felt compelled to beg, once again. I asked that everyone, please just leave me alone. This led to more and more ridicule, as more girls began sarcastically commenting about how they'd never want to hurt my feelings. People slowly but surely became bored of their efforts to affect me, I assume because I never really let them see how strongly they did so. The status and the graffiti were the peak of the bullying incidents but they most definitely were not the end. As the year came to a close, the hateful posts on Facebook and Twitter continued. The summer finally crept up and I knew the next few months away would be exactly what I'd need.
My experiences with Christina affected me in many ways. First of all, up until my personal encounter with a cold-hearted person, I was always the first to assume that all people were full of good intentions. The hateful words spoken to me by Christina taught me that my peers will always try to keep me from my success. I realized that behind every mean remark is a person with a more deeply rooted issue of their own, and as much as we'd like for our problems to stay within our boundaries, the things that happen to us in our lives change us as people, consequently affecting everyone else we interact with. In the end, it is our decision whether we wear our past in a negative way, or use it to improve our future. Secondly, having this happen directly to me, I've seen in the clearest possible way, the effect that simple words can have on a person. Altogether, Christina's negative actions have led to extremely positive outcomes in my life, altering for the better, the way I view myself, and how I approach very important situations.
