I chose to write a fiction through which I will talk about the relationship with my imaginary archenemy. A friend told me that fictions can never make up a good admission essay. But I thought Uchic supplements are always quirky, and that they will love a creative and exciting essay. Thats why I wrote this. PLZ TELL ME IF THIS FULFILS THE PROMPT OR NOT AND THAT IF IT IS SO RISKY THAT THE ADMIN OFFICER MIGHT HATE IT?
Essay Option 1: "A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies." -Oscar Wilde.
Othello and Iago. Dorothy and the Wicked Witch. The Autobots and the Decepticons. History and art are full of heroes and their enemies. Tell us about the relationship between you and your arch-nemesis (either real or imagined).
Inspired by Martin Krzywy, admitted student Class of 2016.
My Essay:
"Gotcha!"
I pulled the trigger. The silenced Dragunov made a thump noise, the subsonic bullet leaving the muzzle. I watched through my scope as the bullet hit its intended target. But something was wrong. I saw wooden splinters instead of blood. A DUMMY! And then a glint of light caught my eyes, the sunlight reflecting off a scope. CRAP!
I promptly rolled away, the oncoming bullet hitting the floor beside me. Cursing vehemently, I started to run.
Arthur Dayne. The world's most dangerous hit man. My arch nemesis. He was the most wanted man in all of Europe and North America, responsible for countless deaths of businessman, political and religious leaders. But his assassination of the Saudi King made my employer very angry, and thus I was ordered to end his kill streak.
I had spent a whole year studying my target. I scourged every document that I could find to learn everything about him: family history, childhood, pattern of killing, choice of weapons etc. To call him a genius would be an understatement. He was meticulous and cunning. All of his targets had the best security that money could buy and yet he found weaknesses which he exploited. He had a ruthless hundred percent success rate. To kill him, I would have to be even better, a thought that was equally thrilling and frightening.
I had been tracking Arthur for five years. I made three attempts at killing him, all in vain. He anticipated my every move, as if he could read my mind. I had become obsessed with him, spending countless sleepless nights, re reading the same document in the hope of finding something new. I had become desperate trying to prove I was better than him. Many times, I had thought of quitting. But I promised to myself I wouldn't stop till it was over. Either I will kill him, or he will kill me.
It was after the third attempt that I realized my shortcoming: I didn't respect him enough. While making my plans, I always underestimated him. I had no Plan B, because I assumed I would succeed in the first time. I assumed he would not be able to see my trap. I thought I knew how his mind worked. This arrogance had cost me victory every time; but not today, as I have learnt my lesson. Today, I have a Plan B.
I stormed into the stairway of the rooftop as a bullet ricocheted off the wall. I just needed to get to the extraction point to initiate Plan B. Reaching the ground floor, I gave the signal on my radio that would put Plan B into motion. Running in a zigzag pattern, I quickly made my way to the extraction zone. I could feel him chasing me. I turned and emptied the magazine of my Uzi light machine gun. I saw Arthur dive behind a trash can. That would buy me just enough time.
The extraction chopper was already waiting for me, its giant rotor blades rotating at full speed. Inhaling deeply, I made a dash for the open door of the chopper. As I clambered into it, I felt a white hot pain on my thigh. The pain seared through my body like a lightning bolt, the bullet making a deep hole on my thigh. I knew Arthur was smiling. But the last smile would be mine. The chopper was well away from the spot when I heard the distant whining sound of approaching death. And then, the whole area exploded.
Several Drones rained Hellfire missiles, annihilating the whole place. The blast radius was a full kilometer. I knew Arthur was too cunning for me to kill alone. I knew he was too good to be killed by bullets. That's why I had the whole blown up, so that he did not have anywhere to hide. This was my Plan B.
As the chopper flew over tranquil landscape, an exotic loneliness gripped me. I just killed my arch nemesis. I just proved I was better than him. I should be jubilant! I should be ecstatic. Why was I feeling so alone and deplorable? I knew the answer. Arthur was my motivation for all these years. Though he was a cold hearted killer, he kept me alive. He kept the adrenaline flowing in me, actuating me every time I thought of giving up. I felt alive when I chased him. I wish I could ask him if he felt the same about me.
Essay Option 1: "A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies." -Oscar Wilde.
Othello and Iago. Dorothy and the Wicked Witch. The Autobots and the Decepticons. History and art are full of heroes and their enemies. Tell us about the relationship between you and your arch-nemesis (either real or imagined).
Inspired by Martin Krzywy, admitted student Class of 2016.
My Essay:
"Gotcha!"
I pulled the trigger. The silenced Dragunov made a thump noise, the subsonic bullet leaving the muzzle. I watched through my scope as the bullet hit its intended target. But something was wrong. I saw wooden splinters instead of blood. A DUMMY! And then a glint of light caught my eyes, the sunlight reflecting off a scope. CRAP!
I promptly rolled away, the oncoming bullet hitting the floor beside me. Cursing vehemently, I started to run.
Arthur Dayne. The world's most dangerous hit man. My arch nemesis. He was the most wanted man in all of Europe and North America, responsible for countless deaths of businessman, political and religious leaders. But his assassination of the Saudi King made my employer very angry, and thus I was ordered to end his kill streak.
I had spent a whole year studying my target. I scourged every document that I could find to learn everything about him: family history, childhood, pattern of killing, choice of weapons etc. To call him a genius would be an understatement. He was meticulous and cunning. All of his targets had the best security that money could buy and yet he found weaknesses which he exploited. He had a ruthless hundred percent success rate. To kill him, I would have to be even better, a thought that was equally thrilling and frightening.
I had been tracking Arthur for five years. I made three attempts at killing him, all in vain. He anticipated my every move, as if he could read my mind. I had become obsessed with him, spending countless sleepless nights, re reading the same document in the hope of finding something new. I had become desperate trying to prove I was better than him. Many times, I had thought of quitting. But I promised to myself I wouldn't stop till it was over. Either I will kill him, or he will kill me.
It was after the third attempt that I realized my shortcoming: I didn't respect him enough. While making my plans, I always underestimated him. I had no Plan B, because I assumed I would succeed in the first time. I assumed he would not be able to see my trap. I thought I knew how his mind worked. This arrogance had cost me victory every time; but not today, as I have learnt my lesson. Today, I have a Plan B.
I stormed into the stairway of the rooftop as a bullet ricocheted off the wall. I just needed to get to the extraction point to initiate Plan B. Reaching the ground floor, I gave the signal on my radio that would put Plan B into motion. Running in a zigzag pattern, I quickly made my way to the extraction zone. I could feel him chasing me. I turned and emptied the magazine of my Uzi light machine gun. I saw Arthur dive behind a trash can. That would buy me just enough time.
The extraction chopper was already waiting for me, its giant rotor blades rotating at full speed. Inhaling deeply, I made a dash for the open door of the chopper. As I clambered into it, I felt a white hot pain on my thigh. The pain seared through my body like a lightning bolt, the bullet making a deep hole on my thigh. I knew Arthur was smiling. But the last smile would be mine. The chopper was well away from the spot when I heard the distant whining sound of approaching death. And then, the whole area exploded.
Several Drones rained Hellfire missiles, annihilating the whole place. The blast radius was a full kilometer. I knew Arthur was too cunning for me to kill alone. I knew he was too good to be killed by bullets. That's why I had the whole blown up, so that he did not have anywhere to hide. This was my Plan B.
As the chopper flew over tranquil landscape, an exotic loneliness gripped me. I just killed my arch nemesis. I just proved I was better than him. I should be jubilant! I should be ecstatic. Why was I feeling so alone and deplorable? I knew the answer. Arthur was my motivation for all these years. Though he was a cold hearted killer, he kept me alive. He kept the adrenaline flowing in me, actuating me every time I thought of giving up. I felt alive when I chased him. I wish I could ask him if he felt the same about me.
