I described a different side of me in this essay. I need some feedback. If there is any grammatical errors can you please point them out.
My first memory to now
We all travel on a freeway called life. Whether it's smooth going or has traffic we always make it. From the first step we take to the very words that are printed on this page. The drops of memory are always imprinted in me no matter what. They may be imaginary or mental images but they are always there. This always follows us through Elementary, Middle and High School, never to stop until Graduation.
"Elementary school" or "Emotions are forged here and they stay with us forever"
The first day of school I said to mommy "I don't want to go to school, I don't want to". I began to run until I reached the flagpole. I tied my book bag around it and held on very tight. Eventually, the security guards had to pull me off. Stubbornness was part of me for the next 6 years, until Graduation. When I realized that I would never see most of my friends again. The first fathom of my self-reflection was laid.
"Middle School" or "A place that I don't want to go back to"
It was the 7th grade; everyone was being bullied until that frightful day. This day should be in the shackles of the memory, but it must come out now. The last day of school before summer began; the bully was shaking kids down for money again. I was extremely frightened. To escape that monstrous brut, I climbed up onto the top of the lockers and hid from him. As he walked by, my breath grew colder. The silence was dawned as a requirement. The hinges on the door began to screech. It was at that moment that I lost my grip and I fell on him. The bully was unharmed but soon the roar of the inner him broke loose. Everyone was laughing at him. I ran as fast as I could. I tried to get to the bus but I was caught five feet away from it. The tormentor said "don't embarrass me again." He then punched me with the fury of a thousand Muhammad Ali's. I had a black eye for two weeks. It was only a temporary scar for the integrity I gained.
"High School" or "The times where everything changed"
School work was now a part of me. I could not let go of it. I was a typical nerd. I was always reading and studying. Then I found writing in the fall of my senior year. Writing was the seeing of the future for me. No matter what the parameters were, freedom was at the whisk of my pen movement. Expression was my juggling of words in my mind, to make the unimaginable, conceivable. Each word now meant something, so that I could piece together the unsolvable puzzle. Once the words were set down on a page, this much was certain. I now know that this new way of thinking is within me and that I hope that one day, it may play out all over again.
My first memory to now
We all travel on a freeway called life. Whether it's smooth going or has traffic we always make it. From the first step we take to the very words that are printed on this page. The drops of memory are always imprinted in me no matter what. They may be imaginary or mental images but they are always there. This always follows us through Elementary, Middle and High School, never to stop until Graduation.
"Elementary school" or "Emotions are forged here and they stay with us forever"
The first day of school I said to mommy "I don't want to go to school, I don't want to". I began to run until I reached the flagpole. I tied my book bag around it and held on very tight. Eventually, the security guards had to pull me off. Stubbornness was part of me for the next 6 years, until Graduation. When I realized that I would never see most of my friends again. The first fathom of my self-reflection was laid.
"Middle School" or "A place that I don't want to go back to"
It was the 7th grade; everyone was being bullied until that frightful day. This day should be in the shackles of the memory, but it must come out now. The last day of school before summer began; the bully was shaking kids down for money again. I was extremely frightened. To escape that monstrous brut, I climbed up onto the top of the lockers and hid from him. As he walked by, my breath grew colder. The silence was dawned as a requirement. The hinges on the door began to screech. It was at that moment that I lost my grip and I fell on him. The bully was unharmed but soon the roar of the inner him broke loose. Everyone was laughing at him. I ran as fast as I could. I tried to get to the bus but I was caught five feet away from it. The tormentor said "don't embarrass me again." He then punched me with the fury of a thousand Muhammad Ali's. I had a black eye for two weeks. It was only a temporary scar for the integrity I gained.
"High School" or "The times where everything changed"
School work was now a part of me. I could not let go of it. I was a typical nerd. I was always reading and studying. Then I found writing in the fall of my senior year. Writing was the seeing of the future for me. No matter what the parameters were, freedom was at the whisk of my pen movement. Expression was my juggling of words in my mind, to make the unimaginable, conceivable. Each word now meant something, so that I could piece together the unsolvable puzzle. Once the words were set down on a page, this much was certain. I now know that this new way of thinking is within me and that I hope that one day, it may play out all over again.
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