Hello everyone! Here is my essay for Macaulay Honors. I have less than 26 hours before I have to submit this, so any help will be extremely appreciated. So much for not procrastinating =(
-Prompt: Discuss some issue of local, national, or international concern and its importance to you.
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3 AM. The clamor drummed in my ears. Jolting awake, I quickly opened the amber window to catch a glimpse. As I pressed against the dirty metal bars, chanting, riotous words and banging of weapons against houses drowned the neighborhood. Bodies diffused through the clustered tin houses and pulled people out of their homes. I was compelled with utter fear. My mother pulled me away from the windows and led me and my siblings to the kitchen room. Shutting the windows and blowing off the candles, she placed us in the closet with the roaches and rats. "Stay here and be quiet." The cautioning words escaped her mouth before she hugged us. The lock clicked in. I felt our cold bodies shake in the dark as I wept quietly.
Bodies lay still on the blasted road, covered in bloody shredded clothes, and camouflaged with the red, green flag of Bangladesh. Flame danced on the flipped buses as local cops dragged bodies into trucks. Hazy smoke covered the sun and the sky. The clash was between supporters of the two political parties. From mere pushing and shoving, it escalated to fist fights and then to knifes and chains. Seeing blood everywhere, bystanders realized it was time to leave the scene. Into its thirtieth minute, a bomb went off sending concrete, asphalt, and people into the air. The rubble settled down, however, my father's terror did not. He hid from the destruction and cautiously watched from a distant balcony.
The once green and proud Bangladesh, it has corroded into a grim and oppressed society due to incessant political conflicts. The two major parties, BNP and Awami League, have been fighting for power and won the national elections back and forth. Just like Watergate, the winning party would attempt to secure its victory for the next election through espionage and conspiracy. Tumultuous, violent rallies would be the opposition's tactics.
In 2003 parliamentary election, the BNP party lost. In retaliation, the supporters rallied out and initiated an assault on all oppositions, justifying that the Awami League staged the election. In the villages it was a night of onslaught, and in the cities there were chaotic battles.
In the small settlement of Doudkandi, the assault reached my neighborhood. After locking me and my siblings in the wooden closet hidden from view, my thin mother darted to pick up her weapon of choice: the Bhagavad Gita. She fell on her knees and prayed. Roaring commands of retreat came in and they fell back; the galvanized Awami League supporters fought back.
Eight days later, a shabby bus plowed its way to a stop. My father got off. Frowzy hair, bags under his eyes, and red bandages on his shoulders made his structured physique look old and frail. Restless and anxious, our whole family rushed to welcome him upon his arrival. My mother kissed him. A jolt of pulse radiated through my heart being together with my family once again. I wondered how long it would last. At that instant moment, my thoughts were interrupted by a thundering blast.
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509 Words.
-Does the last sentence make sense? If you think not, then should I keep it or just delete it all together?
-PLEASE HELP!!! VERY LITTLE TIME BEFORE DEADLINE!!!
-Thank you all for all the help, seriously.
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-Prompt: Discuss some issue of local, national, or international concern and its importance to you.
--------------------------------------
3 AM. The clamor drummed in my ears. Jolting awake, I quickly opened the amber window to catch a glimpse. As I pressed against the dirty metal bars, chanting, riotous words and banging of weapons against houses drowned the neighborhood. Bodies diffused through the clustered tin houses and pulled people out of their homes. I was compelled with utter fear. My mother pulled me away from the windows and led me and my siblings to the kitchen room. Shutting the windows and blowing off the candles, she placed us in the closet with the roaches and rats. "Stay here and be quiet." The cautioning words escaped her mouth before she hugged us. The lock clicked in. I felt our cold bodies shake in the dark as I wept quietly.
Bodies lay still on the blasted road, covered in bloody shredded clothes, and camouflaged with the red, green flag of Bangladesh. Flame danced on the flipped buses as local cops dragged bodies into trucks. Hazy smoke covered the sun and the sky. The clash was between supporters of the two political parties. From mere pushing and shoving, it escalated to fist fights and then to knifes and chains. Seeing blood everywhere, bystanders realized it was time to leave the scene. Into its thirtieth minute, a bomb went off sending concrete, asphalt, and people into the air. The rubble settled down, however, my father's terror did not. He hid from the destruction and cautiously watched from a distant balcony.
The once green and proud Bangladesh, it has corroded into a grim and oppressed society due to incessant political conflicts. The two major parties, BNP and Awami League, have been fighting for power and won the national elections back and forth. Just like Watergate, the winning party would attempt to secure its victory for the next election through espionage and conspiracy. Tumultuous, violent rallies would be the opposition's tactics.
In 2003 parliamentary election, the BNP party lost. In retaliation, the supporters rallied out and initiated an assault on all oppositions, justifying that the Awami League staged the election. In the villages it was a night of onslaught, and in the cities there were chaotic battles.
In the small settlement of Doudkandi, the assault reached my neighborhood. After locking me and my siblings in the wooden closet hidden from view, my thin mother darted to pick up her weapon of choice: the Bhagavad Gita. She fell on her knees and prayed. Roaring commands of retreat came in and they fell back; the galvanized Awami League supporters fought back.
Eight days later, a shabby bus plowed its way to a stop. My father got off. Frowzy hair, bags under his eyes, and red bandages on his shoulders made his structured physique look old and frail. Restless and anxious, our whole family rushed to welcome him upon his arrival. My mother kissed him. A jolt of pulse radiated through my heart being together with my family once again. I wondered how long it would last. At that instant moment, my thoughts were interrupted by a thundering blast.
----------------------------------
509 Words.
-Does the last sentence make sense? If you think not, then should I keep it or just delete it all together?
-PLEASE HELP!!! VERY LITTLE TIME BEFORE DEADLINE!!!
-Thank you all for all the help, seriously.
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