Application Essay

28K

The sloppy muck clings onto my shoes like cement. My hands flail in front of me, grasping onto any branches within my reach. Each step is agony, the brown substance as sticky as glue, suctioning my neon orange sneakers to the ground. Soon the murky mud is splattered all over my shirt and shorts, the splotches reminders of my useless attempts to escape the treacherous grounds. Despair washes over me as my shoe becomes loose from my foot and sinks into the muck. My feet freeze as the cool liquid seeps through my socks and wedges in between my toes. The earthy wet scent wafts up my nose, trampling any dandelion thoughts I have. The sludge squeals, protesting against my movements as I cast my eyes forward and glimpse the vague outlines of my fellow walkers ahead, all of them successfully out of the mud and well on their way completing the 28k walk.

Images cloud my mind. I imagine the children in Cambodia as they hobble to get water from the wells. The realization almost seems laughable; that I am only aware of my privileged life shin deep in muck. I allow my feet to fall still and let my arms flop down beside to me. Taking a deep breath in, I let my mind wander.

Children in Cambodia have to trudge through muck and gritty grass in the scorching heat just to get water. And here I am, sauntering with civilization at my doorstep. The looming silver skyscrapers tower over me, the red and white flag of Singapore waves relentlessly, and I can even make out the medics with their first aid kits strolling ahead. I have already powered through 27 kilometers, I will continue. I motivate myself with thoughts of young children who walk 28 kilometers in Cambodia every day. I drive myself forward, propelling my mind to see the positivity in this walk rather than the negative thoughts that are holding me back. I channel that positive energy into my movements, now seeing the muck has a mere obstacle in the path of a hero's journey.

With renewed energy, I force my aching legs out of the mire. My terror subsides and all I feel is adrenaline, pumping through my blood, urging me to get out of this muck and to continue the walk. I wrench my legs out of the mud and back in, one step at a time, yanking them with increasing enthusiasm with every step. Finally, my soaked sneakers reach the hard, oh so beautiful ground. I stumble forward and begin sprinting towards my fellow walkers, attempting to catch up to them.

My knees are jelly and my feet are swollen, fat like a pumpkin, yet I run like a tornado, swirling past multicolored people and flowing past my friends. I run further and further away from everyone until I have finally made it to the front of the crowd.

160 people are behind me. 10 people are in front of me. 50 more meters till I finish the Walk for Water.

40m. 30m. 20m. 10m. 5m. 1m.

I bolt through the torn finish line, coming in 5th place. Confetti streams from the clouds, dancing over us. The sea of parents screams encouraging words over the shrieking upbeat pop music. My father presents me with a fresh Starbucks iced mocha, my favorite. The sugary chocolate mixed with the frothy milk melts on my tongue, the caffeine much welcomed in my exhausted body. So this is what victory tastes like. Pride swells inside me, warming every single bone in my body. I did it.

Life is tough. It will drag me down. Neglected problems will come back to haunt me and will pummel me till I drop. No matter where I go, there will always be issues I want to escape. There will always be puddles of malicious muck obstructing my path. That will never change. But, I will battle through the mud, just as I did a year ago. My mind will banish thoughts of negativity, driving only ideas of positivity, and my body will be strong enough to push me past my doubts until I have surpassed the obstacle. But, it is my heart that will pull me through. Just as I thought about the penniless children in Cambodia as I endeavored through the mire, I will think about those I can aid as I plow through my obstacles. I will always stride forward, I will wrestle through the choking muck, to my pride.

Note to the Reader

This writing was a stressful piece of work. Beneath this neat tidy work, there were weeks of mess and struggle. From thinking about a small moment, to actually writing, to finally editing it. There were a lot of things that needed to be done. Coming up with an enticing lead was the easy part, but finishing with a memorable ending? That part was definitely the most challenging. How do you end with a non-cliched, meaningful ending? That was the question that I kept asking myself, and sometimes I still do, but in the end, I think that I did a pretty good job patching up a meaningful ending. That was the hard part but the part that I loved was writing with sensory language. I am detailed writer already, so adding sensory language was the easy bit. I loved cooking up similes, metaphors and just writing with tons of details!

I want my reader to be able to see what I experienced. I tried to write as descriptively as I could so that my reader could imagine the emotions I felt and could understand the background I was in. To me, understanding and being able to see your character’s position is extremely important.  However, the message, of course, is the most essential part of the essay. I hope that my reader could understand how I grew as a person. How I learnt that the body, heart and mind have to work together to surpass an obstacle. How I understood that I have to battle through my problems. This is the message I want my reader to notice and my writing to convey.