Not sure if this is a good answer to the essay question... feedback would be nice? :)
I waited for the text message to arrive, lying restlessly in my cramped twin-sized bed as my roommate snored softly on the other side of the room. I stared at my phone, pressing it up to my face so that I wouldn't miss feeling its vibration. It was midnight, two hours past curfew, but the tiredness I would have felt on any other night was replaced with fear and excitement. I kept running the plan through my mind: Quietly get out of bed, tiptoe out the door, and sneak my way down the hallway. I couldn't help but think to myself, "What if we get caught? What if they tell our parents?" This moment of panic strengthened as the text I had been waiting for flashed on my phone screen: "Go."
I always looked forward to attending music camp in the summer. As a third year camp attendee, I was a true veteran. I was the person that new campers met and thought, "She's got this place figured out." I knew where all of the buildings were, what foods were better than others, who all of the counselors and teachers were, etc. I was completely comfortable with anything that music camp would present me with, because I had participated in all of it during previous years. This year, however, camp would surprise me. It would present me with something that for once, I wasn't comfortable with. I would have a completely new experience, one that began with a camper named Corey.
Corey was not like the other musicians at camp. He played an instrument and enjoyed music, but behind his lush blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and boyish charm lived an alternate persona: a rebel. I would stare at him wide-eyed as he told me about his adventurous undertakings. Sneaking out of his house, venturing onto rooftops, and jumping fences into deserted neighborhoods sounded exhilarating to me, a girl who had never done anything risky. I couldn't get enough of his stories, and he could tell. He could tell so much, in fact, that he planned an adventure for the two of us. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as he told me about his plan that, this time, would include me. We would wait until everyone else was asleep, slip out of our rooms, and meet in the stairwell at the end of the hallway. He didn't tell me what we would do after this, and I was too scared to ask.
"Go." This one word made my heart beat faster than I ever knew it could. I lifted my comforter off of my body, slipped into my flip-flops, and began to open the door of my bedroom. It's slow "creeaaak" noise was enough to raise my pulse, as I peered over at my roommate to make sure that she hadn't woken up. The deserted hallway faced me, and as I took my first step into its emptiness, I was overcome with anxiety. I could see the stairwell at the end of the hall, and stealthily tiptoed to it. I opened the door leading to the stairwell, pushed my body behind it, and let out a sigh of relief, noticing that I had been holding my breath the entire time I was walking. Already waiting for me was Corey, sitting on the stairs like getting there was the easiest thing he had ever done.
We spent a few hours in the stairwell, talking and laughing about our week of camp, our lives, and of course, how much fun it was to sneak out. Corey didn't have some elaborate plan to sit on the rooftop of a building, but I didn't care. The feeling I got from pushing myself beyond my limits, to do something that I normally wouldn't, was enough for me. Leaving my comfort zone with this adventure taught me how to be brave, and that taking risks is what makes life worthwhile. Without Corey's rebellious ways, my third year of camp would have been just like my first two- fun, but not new or exciting. As we left the stairwell and said our goodbyes for the night, I was no longer nervous about returning to my room. I left the stairwell and walked down the empty hallway yet again, but this time, with courage.
I waited for the text message to arrive, lying restlessly in my cramped twin-sized bed as my roommate snored softly on the other side of the room. I stared at my phone, pressing it up to my face so that I wouldn't miss feeling its vibration. It was midnight, two hours past curfew, but the tiredness I would have felt on any other night was replaced with fear and excitement. I kept running the plan through my mind: Quietly get out of bed, tiptoe out the door, and sneak my way down the hallway. I couldn't help but think to myself, "What if we get caught? What if they tell our parents?" This moment of panic strengthened as the text I had been waiting for flashed on my phone screen: "Go."
I always looked forward to attending music camp in the summer. As a third year camp attendee, I was a true veteran. I was the person that new campers met and thought, "She's got this place figured out." I knew where all of the buildings were, what foods were better than others, who all of the counselors and teachers were, etc. I was completely comfortable with anything that music camp would present me with, because I had participated in all of it during previous years. This year, however, camp would surprise me. It would present me with something that for once, I wasn't comfortable with. I would have a completely new experience, one that began with a camper named Corey.
Corey was not like the other musicians at camp. He played an instrument and enjoyed music, but behind his lush blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and boyish charm lived an alternate persona: a rebel. I would stare at him wide-eyed as he told me about his adventurous undertakings. Sneaking out of his house, venturing onto rooftops, and jumping fences into deserted neighborhoods sounded exhilarating to me, a girl who had never done anything risky. I couldn't get enough of his stories, and he could tell. He could tell so much, in fact, that he planned an adventure for the two of us. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as he told me about his plan that, this time, would include me. We would wait until everyone else was asleep, slip out of our rooms, and meet in the stairwell at the end of the hallway. He didn't tell me what we would do after this, and I was too scared to ask.
"Go." This one word made my heart beat faster than I ever knew it could. I lifted my comforter off of my body, slipped into my flip-flops, and began to open the door of my bedroom. It's slow "creeaaak" noise was enough to raise my pulse, as I peered over at my roommate to make sure that she hadn't woken up. The deserted hallway faced me, and as I took my first step into its emptiness, I was overcome with anxiety. I could see the stairwell at the end of the hall, and stealthily tiptoed to it. I opened the door leading to the stairwell, pushed my body behind it, and let out a sigh of relief, noticing that I had been holding my breath the entire time I was walking. Already waiting for me was Corey, sitting on the stairs like getting there was the easiest thing he had ever done.
We spent a few hours in the stairwell, talking and laughing about our week of camp, our lives, and of course, how much fun it was to sneak out. Corey didn't have some elaborate plan to sit on the rooftop of a building, but I didn't care. The feeling I got from pushing myself beyond my limits, to do something that I normally wouldn't, was enough for me. Leaving my comfort zone with this adventure taught me how to be brave, and that taking risks is what makes life worthwhile. Without Corey's rebellious ways, my third year of camp would have been just like my first two- fun, but not new or exciting. As we left the stairwell and said our goodbyes for the night, I was no longer nervous about returning to my room. I left the stairwell and walked down the empty hallway yet again, but this time, with courage.
