Nyu Dramatic Essay Tisch

Hi Everyone,

This is my NYU dramatic essay. Please give me advice as to whether it's good, bad, needs work, etc. NYU really wants good story telling skills so please let me know how I did on that. Any feedback, whatsoever is welcomed.

Prompt: Dramatic Story - Introduce yourself. Describe an unforgettable event in your life and how it changed your perception of yourself or the view of someone close to you. This event can be dramatic and/or comedic. The assignment should be written as a short story. Please do not write about why or what lead you to pursue a degree in film and television production. Ultimately we are looking for evidence of your potential as a visual storyteller.

FORMAT: Up to four typed, double-spaced 8.5" x 11" pages.( Save as a PDF or .doc and upload to tischfilmandtv.slideroom.com)

Blue Eyes
I closed my eyes and breathed in the salty air. After a long and humid day, I embraced the calm, summer night with comfort. A cool breeze came up from the ocean and washed across my face, leaving me with an aching to get into the water. Slowly opening my eyes, I had an odd feeling that I was being watch. I looked down the long, beckoning boardwalk seeing nothing but thongs of people bustling up and down, still giddy of the surf championships that took place earlier. I didn't see anyone taking certain notice, so I turned to Britt. "There's only tourists out right now, lets just leave". Her only acknowledgement was a slight nod, as she continued her detailed search through the crowd. I turned my head the opposite way in hopes of seeing someone to ogle at.

His deep colored, button down is what caught my eye first. This was Virginia; everyone was wearing bathing suits or tank tops. I peeked up to get a glimpse of his face when I came to realize that he was staring at us. He had these piercing, icy blue eyes, accompanying an uncanny, crooked smile that left me feeling uncomfortable as he made his way past our bench.

My eyes followed his distant frame as he started to disappear into the crowd. "Britt", I whispered, "Do you see that guy? Don't be obvious." Of course she would be completely oblivious to my warning as she whipped her head around looking for the said character. "Forget it", I rushed, "He's gone." She shrugged and resumed her familiar search. I tried to shake of my discomfort from the peculiar exchange, as I looked out to the ocean. There was a girl leaning against the railing that led to the sand, screaming. I assumed she was on the phone with her boyfriend the way she yelled obscenities and talks of infidelities. The conversation was just getting good when I saw a lurking figure out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head and looked into the eyes of a shark. There stood the same man, gawking at us with those blue eyes.

He was leisurely making his way over to the screaming girl, when he glanced back at us. "She's pissed," he laughed. We did a soft chuckle in unison and I glanced at Britt. "This is the second time he has walked by," I rushed on, "Get up. Get up!"

We walked in the same direction as him but off to the right, not yet ready to turn our backs on the unknown man. He must have seen us get up, because he was in front of us but somehow did a U-turn of sorts, ending up behind us, off to the left. My mind started filling with ideas of murderous sex offenders and drama filled Lifetime movies. Lost in my thoughts, I veered off to the right, trying in a weak attempt to escape any collision that may have occurred. Unfortunately, Britt wasn't so lucky and walked right into his eager clutches.

My heart began to flutter a little and I just wanted to grab her wrist and run for the hills. Something about that bloke left me feeling uneasy and vulnerable; my gut told me not to trust him. He went head first into conversation, not leaving any room for us to make a sly getaway. "What are you girl's up to?" even though he said girls, I was certain sure he was just talking to Britt. Ready to leave, I shrugged, but Britt was the one who entertained him, "We're just walking around," she said nonchalantly. He didn't mind her cool response; he took it as invitation anyway.

"That's cool, I came from North Carolina to surf," or to kill someone I thought. I was getting such weird signals from him; I couldn't help to think of his alternate motives. I could see in the way she kept fidgeting and looking around, that Britt felt the same way. This conversation was innocence but there was an undercurrent of danger accompanying it. As I looked at him, all I could see was caution signs going off in my head. "Wer...were you in the competition?" Britt sputtered as she glanced at the paper wristband on his wrist. His eyes lit up -I could almost see the gears in his head turning- she just offered him a way in. "Yeah, I was in the competition; did you guys watch?" he beamed with a look of satisfaction. "We watched for a little while, she took pictures," she pointed to me and it was like that was the first time he saw me there as his watchful eyes took an inventory of me. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and a taste of bile produced in my mouth. When he got to my face, I tried to hold his scrutiny; I didn't want to be seen as a threat. After his detailed examination, he diverted his gaze back to Britt, as she played with the septum ring that came out of her nose. He watched her twirl it a few more times before he said anything. "That's hot", he praised. Immediately dropping her hand, she looked at the ground as if it were the most interesting thing.

"Well, I'm going to the bar to get a few drinks then back to my room; if you guys wanna join." He waited for an okay to go on. "Sure", Britt reluctantly agreed. I found my voice and spoke up, "We have to run to the car so I can get my Insulin." It was the quickest lie I could think of and remembered to later thank my friend Taylor for explaining her diabetes. He flashed his eerie, crooked smile and started to describe his room. "Alright, cool! Once you get it, come over. I'm staying at that hotel down there, I forgot the name but it's white and it's kind of old looking, in a nice way. I'm in `room number 221. There's a caribou on the door, you know what that looks like right?" We casually nodded, and he continued. "I'm gonna be in the bar right next door, I'll probably be there for about an hour. So, if you guys don't want to drink you can just come to my room after. I'm not crazy, no weird stuff; just come to my room."

Without hesitation, we agreed and quickly walked away, trying to get lost in the recent surge of people. Gently turning around, I looked for him but it was as if he disappeared.

We rushed to the car, looking over out shoulders every few seconds. My mind wouldn't drift from the recent reality check. "Britt, that just happened. He would have killed us." She didn't responded so I glanced over and saw the mask of fear that was stuck on her face. She was all too familiar to the certainty of my statement.

I felt as if I entered an alternate universe where they're really are bad people out there. I always knew that there were but I was naive to that fact and always felt like nothing like that could ever happen in my world because it wasn't a mystery movie or horror film, it was real life and it just got too real.

Slowly opening my eyes, I had an odd feeling that I was being watched.

I looked down the long, beckoning boardwalk seeing nothing but throngs of bustling people , still giddy of the surf championships that took place earlier.

There was a girl leaning against the railing that led to the sand, screaming. I assumed she was on the phone with her boyfriend, [i]by
the way she was yelling obscenities regarding infidelity .

"That's cool, I came from North Carolina to surf." He said. "Or to kill someone," I thought.

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and I felt a lump in my throat.

"Britt, that just happened. He would have killed us."
Did you really think that? It seems extreme, but if that was your intuition talking, then explain that a bit more. You had the suspicion that the man did not have good intentions. Strengthen your conclusion, as this should re-state the purpose of the story. Moral of the story: No matter how educated you are, no matter what kind of person you are, you cannot trust everyone, and you must rely on your "gut feelings" sometimes to lead you in the right direction.

Thanks for the feedback, I changed all of the things you suggest. Here's the new ending, tell me what you think, please.

I didn't realize it till that night, but I always felt safe in my little world where nothing bad ever happened. I avoided dark allies and always locked my door at night but the truth is, you're not safe.

If anyone else is up to helping, it will be greatly appreciated!


Mar 25, 2012   #5

Do you have anything else?
You are applying to NYU.
It has to be A+ level storytelling.
They have freakier stuff in NY
any night of the week.

Remember that storytellers can
write hundreds of pages, so it
goes without saying that in 4
double-spaced pages every single
word must be perfect.

"After a long and humid day, I embraced " Misplaced modifier
"Slowly opening my eyes, I had an odd feeling that I was being watched ."

If you are serious about NYU you must have at least 10 more stories.
Show us another one.

Thanks for the feedback.

Can you tell me which parts wasn't good story telling?
I know there is bigger and badder people in NY, but I grew up in the suburbs of Virginia and this experience really changed my outlook of myself and people in general.

I am extremely serious about NYU and I don't have 10 other pieces because I put so much into to this one and my creative submission. Can you give me any points to make it better?

More feedback is welcomed, good or bad!


Mar 26, 2012   #7

Let me get this right--you just want to hold a camera and not really do storytelling. They just make you do this part for the school application. (That's wrong actually. The person holding the camera has to recognize a good story.)

"Describe an unforgettable event in your life and how it changed your perception of yourself or the view of someone close to you."

Was the guy a serial killer or something? Did I miss something important here?

I would pick an event that you will remember in 10 years. I doubt you would remember a creepy guy in 10 years, unless he was a creepy guy at your school and you dodged his advances many times. Another reason I didn't like the story that much is you spend time describing this guy you don't even know and not enough on you or your friends. Ideally, you want this experience to be a one-person or two-person event, or the other people to be more of an audience than actual characters.

Better examples:
- You find out something you were taught in school or by your parents was false.
- You secretly observe a KKK meeting for your school newspaper.
- You come out of the closet to your grandfather, and he reveals that he wouldn't be married either if he was your age today.

- Your friend comes down with an illness, and you visit her in the hospital.
- A rescue either you are rescued or you rescue someone else
- You feel like a jerk later for something you said or did.
- This person that you normally can't stand turns out to be a good person.
- A teacher you greatly respect you find to be an alcoholic.
- A smart friend you find to be not-so-smart after all and a big cheater.
- Someone tells you later that this little thing you did made her day or saved a life.
- A friend or sibling's suicide
- A marriage with a funny story

Thank you for your brutal honesty. I want to be apart of every aspect of film, so of course I want to tell a story.

Do you think I can use this for my creative submission instead? If i changed a few things around- the visual scene prompt.

I do not know if he was a serial killer, but i felt like I was talking to the green river killer and I honestly do think I will remember that in 10 years.

Is it just the storyline that you think is week or is it the writing too? I plan to change the story into one of my mother taking me away from everything I knew to move me in with a man that I barely knew, her now husband. I did see her differently after. Does that sound like a better story line?


Mar 26, 2012   #9

Yes that sounds like a better story. What setting will you use?
The marriage? An argument? A funny trip? a restaurant?

I was thinking the moving in day or a dinner/restaurant .


Mar 28, 2012   #11

Ok. I'm waiting for the draft...


Mar 31, 2012   #12

Dear Louiey,

I know that you really want to make it into this film school, so I'm going to
be brutally honest again. This one makes you sounds like a crazy groupie.
There's no dialogue here really. Add some please, or use a third setting.
And I can't help but think of Elvis or someone like that, which makes me
grimace (b/c you must be 17?). Should we be calling the police or something?
It has more of a personal feel than the other one, but it still lacks something.
Is it possible to develop this idea further? You have up to 4 pages double-spaced,
and the font or size is not specified.

I'll be honest I'm so old school I never went to a rock concert as a youngster. The
closest I ever came (30 years old) was the Transiberian orchestra rock group---and the tickets were free. (They were great though.) Ok. I'm not counting the high school talent shows.

Are you a musician? If you want to write an experience about yourself why not use a musical backdrop. We already know that rockers etc. are very far from perfect in their personal lives. We've known it as a country for 50 years. Let's move on please.

I want the story to sound like i was making our relationship to be more and in the end turn it around to so it was all in my head and I was crazy. Kinda of like black swan or secret window, movies like that... maybe the end would pull it together more to understand the whole point of the story... do you understand what i mean?

And the dialogue is more towards the end, where i stopped; if that makes a difference.
I'm going to try to talk to him like we're dating and he's going to blow me off. I'm going to turn it at the end to make it all seem like it was a flashback and i'm sitting in a pysch ward or something, talking out where all my craziness began with a therapist.

A really good movie example of this is fear island with lucy hale.

as always, thanks for the feedback.


Mar 31, 2012   #14

I never saw any of those movies.
(I don't want to see any of those movies.)
As a girl I loved watching Swan Lake, so
I'll never watch Black Swan. It would ruin
all my good memories. The same thing
happens when those idiots put a beautiful
piece of music (Dvorak cello concerto)
in a wicked or scary movie. I think the
composer would be turning in his grave.

I think they want a true experience though.
You are just joking about this NYU thing?
That's too bad. Why did you post your essays then?

I am not joking about it. This is for my creative submission: A creative submission that shows visual storytelling and imaginative expression of thought- No more than six pages of dramatic or creative writing consisting of either a short story, script, dramatic scene or play.

Those movies are basically centered around insanity. Like someone is killing someone and the whole time they seem like they are a victim but in the end, they were actually the killer and didn't know it, blacked out or something, that kind of feel. You don't catch that?

And you should watch black swan, it's not so much about ruining the play, more so making it better in the main characters eyes. She goes crazy with the need of perfection, basically. It was really good.


Mar 31, 2012   #16

"Describe an unforgettable event in your life and how it changed your perception of yourself or the view of someone close to you. This event can be dramatic and/or comedic."

I understood that the perception would be a truth and not fiction?
Is this event true?

There's no way I'm ever watching Black Swan.
The 1st time I saw Swan Lake was a tape from the library made by the Royal Ballet(?) with N Makarova in one of her last roles. I watched it over and over and learned all the steps. I got to see the ballet live a couple of years later at an outdoor performance. It was fantastic. I also watched a tape of Sleeping Beauty by the Kirov over and over and actually hummed a large portion of the ballet on the way to school camp. Everyone laughed at me. Ballet music was not all the rage. Unfortunately, my legs were too short for ballet, and I was told I was too fat to do pointe. Oh well. I got into music and band and orchestra after that and loved it.

There were a couple movies made about how ballet or about how the performing arts was too demanding and caused people to fail or do bad things. But, I don't buy that. Let me tell you, there's a lot of professions that require high-level performance--100% perfection, and it's just as likely to burn out at any of them. I don't understand all of this hate that ballet (or any type of performance) gets nowadays. I mean they turned Swan Lake into a male-only performance already? Wasn't that enough of an insult to the ballet? And yes we all know that the composer was a homosexual--but does it really matter? If ballet is going to die, let it die gracefully--not humiliated and scorned. I understand that artistic taste eventually changes in any society, but it seems rather wicked to change things underhandedly.

People don't go crazy in pursuit of perfection or goodness or whatever it is. That's an absolute untruth.

What's next? Trauma Tuba? Clairvoyant clarinet? OD oboe? Viper violin?

There are 3 different things that you have to submit to NYU Tisch. one is a dramatic essay, which was the first one, a collaboration statement, and a creative submission.

Part 4. Creative Submission - A creative submission that shows visual storytelling and imaginative expression of thought. Choose ONE of the following:

a. Film or video/ live action fiction, experimental, documentary or animation. (Up to ten minutes total running time). Video footage of staged plays or theatre performances is not acceptable. Your submission should reflect storytelling skills that convey conflict, character as well as a beginning, middle and end. Please be clear about your specific contributions to the video sample.

b. A portfolio of drawings, paintings, sculpture or set design. Your submission should reflect clearly developed ideas and themes within your work. You may upload up to 10 photographic or scanned images of your work.

c. A sequence of ten to twenty still images on any subject which shows a story. These images can be drawings (a storyboard), still photos or created through montage. Your images should convey a clear and imaginative visual sense.

d. No more than six pages of dramatic or creative writing consisting of either a short story, script, dramatic scene or play. FORMAT: 8.5 " x 11" pages typed double spaced or screenplay format where applicable. (Save as a pdf and upload to tischfilmandtv.slideroom.com).

I chose to write since i am a stronger writer, that is what this submission is for. I am still doing the Mom one for my dramatic essay.

And i didn't mean to offend you by offering up insight on the movie, I didn't think anything less of ballet after watching, I honestly think ballet is beautiful. I would say that i got a better understanding of ballet after the film; i don't think they were trying to make it seem like ballet is this most stressful thing you can do, this shining light on ballet in general. But, if you feel so strongly against it, don't watch it. btw, the acting was amazing.


Mar 31, 2012   #18

If you finish the creative piece I'll take a look.
Try and add some dialogue. How long do you
have? It would be fun to help you edit it.

If you like writing, then why are you applying to
film school?

I'm glad you wrote back you were beginning to really
creep me out.

I'm going to get on it now, submission is due tomorrow. I'm a really bad procrastinator but i honestly work better under pressure.

Lol, i want it to be really creepy; i want them to see how i can take a event in my life and change it into something insane, like how a lot of movies are made.

I chose to write because it was the strongest thing I could do out of the options. I actaully have to write why Film for one of the prompts, let me know what you think.

Prompt: Regardless of whether or not you have an intended major or concentration, please elaborate on an academic area of interest and how you wish to explore

it at NYU's campuses in New York or Abu Dhabi or at one of our global academic centers around the world. Please share any activities or experiences you have

had that have cultivated your intellectual interests leading you to choose to study at the NYU campus of your choice

Growing up without cable left a lasting impact on my affection for films. I never really understood the context of most of what I was watching, but honestly, that's not why I watched it. Movies have always been beautiful to me; just the simple creation of it all. I was one of those kids that would constantly rewind the VCR just so I could see the portrayal of the scene through the actor's eyes, and the replay it again to see it through the director's eyes. But above all, the storyline has become my favorite part. An amazing storyline could either make or break a movie and I grew to understand that with my growing admiration for independent films. There is something so pure and humble about indie films that just makes me want to be apart of that elite group of filmmakers. Showing my movie at Sundance Film Festival means so much more that having a big Hollywood premiere. Pursing a degree at New York University's Tisch School of the Arts would be like coming home from a long trip. I know it's were I belong because it's about making movies there and not about all the fancy effects and CGI you can do; just the simplicity and loveliness of an amazing story portrayed by music and pictures on a screen. There's no other school in the world that could understand the importance of a story like Tisch. It would be an honor to work under well-known and successful cinematographers and learn trade secrets while working alongside insightful people. Studying at New York University will help me gain a better appreciation for clips, if possible. So no, I don't have any hands on experience with cinema but my experience is pure observational, which is sometimes the best kind.


Mar 31, 2012   #20

" i want it to be really creepy; i want them to see how i can take a event in my life and change it into something insane, like how a lot of movies are made. "

But, there's many different types of movies. You are sort of copying films that have come out already though. Also, most of the scary movies don't have a lot of dialogue. You have to be a visual person. I thought one of the best documentaries was the one they made of the guy flying with the monarch butterflies. It was a childhood dream come true right there on the screen. I could never do it b/c I would probably be sick all over the butterflies. But it was wonderful to see on a screen.

**I would never tell them that you want to learn trade secrets. It's not the point of the school. The point is for you to come up with your own secrets.

Dear Louiey---
It's due tomorrow?! There's no way I'm so sorry. Aren't apps due in the fall or winter usually? April 1--is this some sort of April Fool's joke?

I don't think that i'm copy it. I like those styles of movies. It's like saying that if i wrote about a romantic comedy, i would be copying Knocked up. I think those trippy types of movies are awesome because you have to tell it right and you can either make or break it. Many of today's movies are taken from true story but they up it a bit so it makes a better story. That is what I mean by showing up that I can do that. It's not necessarily a scary movie, i was going more for a dramatic scene with minimal dialogue, that's why it's at the end and is going to be short and sweet.

Yes, it's due tomorrow because I am a transfer, what do you mean there's no way? and what did you think of the "why film" essay?


Apr 1, 2012   #22

If it's going to be "short and sweet," then why not pick the storyboard or photo option? I think the storyboard sounds like fun, and I saw that's how a lot of directors think about their films.

Would it be possible to rewrite the "why film" essay? Please try it again.

Every kid rewinded VCR tapes (BTW how old are you?)
- Your movie isn't being shown at Sundance
- Your point of going to school isn't to learn trade secrets--you make your own (Actually this is a kiss of death in an essay. They would probably throw your app on the ground and stomp on it.)

- What was your favorite film? Why?
- What is your word limit?
- Have you worked in a movie theater or something?
- Ideally, you have the perfect movies to reflect on film: The Artist, Hugo etc.

I'll check the grammar, word choice after you make some changes. I know it's last minute, but that's your fault. I actually wrote a very decent essay for my schools last minute.

I prefer writing to the other options.
I'll be 20 on Wednesday.
I ment to take the Sundance part out, the limit is 1,500 characters.
I can take the trade secrets out.
My favorite film is Selena, but that's not why i chose film. I grew up on movies and that's why. You don't think i should write about that?

I have never worked on any movie or film, I am a graphic designer, I graduate in May. I always loved film and that's what I want to be a part of.

And i don't mind that it's last minute, more pressure.

I'm not a director or anything. That's the thing about Tisch, they don't care if you have experience or not, they just want to know that you're a good story teller. Your going to the school to get the experience.


Apr 1, 2012   #24

If you are a graphic designer why don't you do the storyboard idea or the artwork?
Which film is your favorite? Selena --1997 movie with J Lo?
I thought you meant Sabrina--the one with A Hepburn, but ok.
I'll have to watch the movie. Is it the movie or the music you like?

Did you like Wall-E? I thought that was a fantastic movie that should have
gotten even more recognition than it did. Don't graphic designers help edit
the movies. Or, draw the movies?

I'm more of a print graphic designer. And yes, Selena with JLo. It's my favorite because of the story.

Wall-E was alright, i'm more into indie type of films. I'm not sure about the graphic design bit, but they have people that have a degree to draw the people and such, i guess in a way it could be consider graphic design. I started a new forum with my supplement essay if you want to take a look at that.

Here's my creative submission revamped. Let me know what you think I'm gonna submit it in a few so would really appreciate any grammer or technical issues i should fix.

...and that's the lousy truth.

The stage was black, eerie in a way that a silent, starless night leaves you wonderstruck. I looked over the brass balcony and saw the crowd still - as if they were all holding their breaths - waiting for him. This was it; I felt it in my gut. Tonight would be the end of it all and I would no longer search for him in every strangers face, or "check-up" on him online. No, I was ending this tonight. He stepped out on the stage and every fan perched on their tippy toes and tried to get a glimpse of that damned man. The room erupted with screeches as the lights leisurely made their familiar motions around the awaiting mass. At last, it settled on him and the screams grew to a crescendo. He strode to the microphone and began to softly sing - gently caressing his restless army with those captivating, blind words. That voice, I swear I heard it everywhere I went. I always searched for him but now that I was here, my heart would not admit that was him. My mind knew, it always knew, but my heart was heavy with denial.

Of course the first song he would sing would be our song. My heart pounded with regret, pain, and confusion. My walls were standing firm in place and I refused to fall into his clutches again. But, the memories from all of those restless nights that I sat up dreaming of him saying these words, flooded through me accompanying a tinge of hope. It was so hard to let go of what we had, but everything changed. This was not the same, and above all, he was not the same. I once knew every curve and shape of that face but now I felt as if I was looking onto a stranger. He wasn't the person I fell in love with, he was now a despicable comparison of his former self. I took a lasting glance as he got into the chorus and all the girls began to clap. Sweating palms, knotted stomach, and pounding head: even more confirmation that I could not do this, I was not up to it. I wanted to through up. I ran thru the darken hallway and rammed through the bathroom door in anticipation, stopping short at the mirror. This is whom he turned me into, I could not even recognize myself. Who was that girl that I saw that wore a grimace like a shield? Those green eyes that usually sparkled with happiness were stricken with a permanent look of lasting abandonment followed by a dreadful frown. I would not be this person anymore, I knew what I had to do and it was time to stop letting myself slowly drown in self-pity.

Swinging the door open with a new feeling of urgency, I was confronted with another one of our songs. He was pleading for me to stay, but nothing could give him that satisfaction that he so dearly craved. Turning away from his call, I plopped down on the two steps to the balcony and just listened. Nothing mattered in that moment; it was just he and I suffocating in his love, voice, and words.

Songs passed and I just couldn't take it anymore. Jumping up and treading down the winding staircases and into the dimmed foyer, I ran into a crowded mass. So caught up in my own thoughts, I did not notice everyone else slowly making their way out of the venue. Had that much time really passed? My heart started pounding out of my chest. Was I hyperventilating? No, I just couldn't breathe.

Suddenly, I was out by the tour bus surrounded by mounds of groupies in the late winter night. I couldn't remember how I got here. I was losing it, honestly losing it. I just had to keep reminding myself that all of this had to be done, even if it killed me. I bent my head and closed my eyes and tried to get a grip on reality. "Calm down and breathe. In and out. In and out. In and out," I calmly coached myself.

Taking one last deep breath, I slowly opened my eyes to be assaulted by a set of green-hazel ones exiting the venue. He looked happy, excited even but once he saw me the confirmation of our memories displayed upon his face - there was no denying it.

I stared daggers into his back as he conveniently made his aimless way through the crowd. "Was he avoiding me?" I thought. Every time I moved closer, he was actually farther away. "I'm so over this," I mumbled. I walked straight to him and he seemed a little taken aback by my forwardness but still held that crooked smile. I looked him straight in the eyes and let every emotion that I felt run through me straight to him. His smile dropped, "Hey..." Hey? That was all that he could say to me. I roughly grabbed his arm "Do you think we talk for a minute?" For a split second I swear I saw desperation in his eyes as they darted from the crowd to me. "They'll be alright for a second," I said forcibly.

The crowd watched like hawks as I pulled him over to the side. "Chris, what's going on with you?" His eyes danced left and right, as if he were looking for someone to save him. When he finally got the courage to look at me, I saw fright in those eyes and I was confused. Furrowing my brows "Did he think I was going to hurt him or something," I thought. Looking around I noticed a few of his band mates talking in a huddle conversation; something wasn't right. "Christofer! are you going to answer me?" I screamed. His eyes shifted to mine as words began to form on his lips. "What are you doing here? You know that you're not suppose to be here. I don't want to have to call..." "Call who?" I snapped. "What was he getting at? Who was he going to call? We were just talking right?" I tried to rationalize with myself. I gripped his wrist once again, just so he would look at me. "Don't you love me anymore? I've missed you so much. I drove for twelve hours just to be here with you. I want this to work." His whole demeanor changed and his pursued lips made an snarl. "That's the thing Emily, this isn't going to work. It never worked. You have to stop showing up at my shows and sending me messages on twitter. Don't you get it? I'm not your boyfriend. We never dated. I don't even know you." His words left me confused; I could remember all of those times we spent together, what did he mean we never dated? "What about April 22nd and July 21st, you came all that way to see me," I revamped. A look of pity washed over his features, "No, I came to do to shows Emily, not to see you. Look, we can be friends okay? I see that you really need someone right now so we can be friends, just let me grab something out of the bus." "Friends?" I thought, " I never considered us being friends, that means I did not have to let go completely. I twirled the thought around in my head, "Friends could really work." I looked up toward the tour bus window and saw Chris staring out at me. I waved furiously until I noticed he wasn't looking at me, but behind me. I was tackled from behind and my face made a hard impact with the pavement. I remember thinking, "Chris will visit me at the hospital", and then I blacked out.

"So Emily, that was the last thing you remember?" I tried to roll over to look Ms.Andrews in the face, but my chains cuffed to the bed held me firmly in place. I awkwardly nodded my head and tried to fight back the tears. I've been in this psych ward for over three months and I still didn't understand why I was there. My parents said it was suppose to help me cope. But cope with what? So my boyfriend was a little confused the last time we talked, but he was a chronic drinker. I dreamed of the day when we could walk down the beach on a warm, fall day. "Emily? Emily! Focus," Ms. Andrews screamed. "I think we're done for the day," I said as I closed my eyes, trying to remember the smell of his freshly lit American spirit cigarette.

Her chair screech in strong protest as she got up. I could hear the guard trying to find the right key to let her out. Her flowery perfumed washed over me as she bent down. "We're going to get you through this Emily, don't you worry", she said with confidence. She was extremely close and I knew this might be my only opportunity. My eyes snapped open as I pulled my thin, bloody wrist from my shackles. Her eyes widen but I broke her neck before show could even scream. I peeked out of the square fastened to the door and didn't see anyone standing watch. The guard had such faith in my good behavior that he didn't even think to make sure Ms. Andrews made her way out.

I scooted down the hall against the wall, trying to stay out of the view of the cameras. I felt bad about Ms. Andrews, she always talked about her twin girls and their amazing talents. She thought it helped but it only made things worst. My parents left me in this hell because they didn't want the burden of a "mentally challenged" daughter, as they put it. But I didn't mind to much. All I needed was Chris. I'm sure he was missing me and after all, I needed closure.


Apr 1, 2012   #27

What a weird world this is. I remember I used to work with a person by that name (It's probably a very very common name). And there was another person at work with the same first name. I don't think they were a couple though. At least I don't remember that they were a couple.

I still don't like it. The character sounds like some Hannibal Lector type. I mean if the character had been in psych for 3 months there's something really really wrong there. They don't keep people there for that long. Plus you are just adding to all the psych prejudice that's out there already. I'm sorry I can't edit this one either. It's better and scarier than before I guess. But what's the point?

I really think you should stick to the graphic design. You are probably phenomenal at that. What a great talent you must have. I haven't been impressed with your storytelling thus far. Why don't you read this kid's story about a talking fish? It's much better even though there's way more grammatical errors.

essayforum.com/writing-feedback-3/lucky-boy-childrens-short-story-3850 7/

That is very odd. I really like the way it turned out and I think i'll submit it anyway. If I don't get in there's other things but I want to at least try. Maybe ill turn it into that she's been there for 3 weeks or something.

I understand that you can't edit it, but did you see any really crazy grammer errors in it?
I am good at graphic design but I want to do so much more and that includes film.

Thank you, Said for your feedback. I think your advice may be more so geared toward term papers and not so much as stories, but i appreciate you taking the time out nonetheless!


Apr 1, 2012   #30

Dear Louiey,

There are no guards there unless the patient is a criminal.
I mean there aren't guards for screaming, clawing patients so you pretty much have to be convicted of something to even have guards.
And it's more like 3-5 days would be a short time period.
And someone sedated or forcibly medicated would not be able to break anyone's neck.
Have you ever seen the movie or read the book Girl, Interrupted? I thought that was a great portrayal from thirty or forty years ago. Terrible, creepy, sad ending though.

All of the movies or books written about persons with mental illesses almost always have bad endings, or they are complete fiction.

the guard was just there to unlock the door. Clarify that more?

I peeked out of the square fastened to the door and didn't see anyone standing watch. The guard had such faith in my good behavior that he didn't even think to make sure Ms. Andrews made her way out. She had good behavior so they never sedated her or anything, just chained to the bed.. clarify that more too? I didn't see girl, interrupted but i heard about it. I was thinking more like michael myers at the ending. how he escaped and such.

Maybe ill make it 2 weeks, I wanted there to be enough time for her to develop good behavior so it'll lead up to her lack of enforcement.

And i just had an epiphany about my dramatic story. When I was a kid i was on my way to the ice cream truck when I ran into my mom talking to my brothers, telling them about her and my father divorce. I think I like that better than the step father one. I hope I can knock it out in time, wish me luck!

Yes, you are right.
my dear, I have a new essay, could you please correct me ? I will appreciate your effort.

I appreciate any help you guys can give me, this is my first time posting on this website. I have to have this in the mail tomorrow.

Prompt:Introduce yourself. Describe an unforgettable event in your life and how it changed your perception of yourself or the view of someone close to you. This event can be dramatic and/or comedic. The assignment may be written as a short story in the first person or as an essay.

They say that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. My god I hope it does.

I was on my way home from a field trip to Gettysburg. Spending the day there with my friends was more then just educational, but fun, a truly enjoyable experience. As I sat on the bus, talking to my friends, I had a sense of satisfaction. I was happy; I was enjoying life. But then a sense of dread came over me; as soon as I got home I knew this feeling would end. I had a massive amount of work to due the next day and it had the potential to take up my whole night. Once I arrived at home I got to work, the drudgery was painful, but not as much as the rest of the night would be.

My work was coming along quite nicely; at the rate I was going I'd have gotten it done with time to spare. But then it happened. First I felt a movement in my arm, then all of a sudden, a sharp pain in my chest. I fell to the ground. It felt exactly like a heart attack is supposed to. I was confused. I didn't know for sure that's what it was, but I was scared, more scared then I had ever been in my life. Then the symptoms expanded and got stranger. I felt a sensation of liquid rushing throughout my torso, I began shivering, my heart rated spiked, I felt like I wasn't getting enough oxygen, and my arms and hands slowly began to numb. It just continued to get worse. Something was wrong, very, very, wrong. If I were alone I would have called an ambulance. Even in retrospect I realize that this probably would have been the best idea. However I was with my family and my father is a doctor, he's never taken any medical issue I've ever had seriously and as I sat their thinking this was the end, he acted like it was nothing. I thought that this would be the way I died, sudden and anti-climactically.

It was in this moment that my life was forever changed. It's not an uncommon story to hear someone who has gone through a near death experience opine that they need to live more in the moment and that they hadn't enjoyed life enough. My revelation was quite the opposite. All I could think about was how I hadn't done anything substantial in my life. I thought about the famous. I knew the names of important scientists, such as Jonas Salk, a graduate of NYU's medical school, his research had saved the lives of so many people; he would be remembered fondly for centuries. I knew the names of important politicians, such as Ted Kennedy, Barak Obama and countless others that changed the landscape of American government, they would be recorded in history. I knew the names of important entertainers such as Woody Allen and Martin Scorsese, both of whom attended NYU and whose work had enriched the lives of countless moviegoers; their films would be eternal. As I thought about all these people it was clear to me who I was: nobody. I was so scared in this moment not because it was the end, but because it was an end without any sense of accomplishment.

I also thought about my friends and how much they mean to me. I thought I might never see them again. There was nothing I wanted more desperately than an opportunity to say goodbye to them. I would not be blessed with that opportunity. It was an incredibly depressing thought.

As these thoughts occupied my mind an hour passed. I slowly began to recover. Feeling returned to my extremities, as I controlled my breathing my heart rate returned to normal and the pains subsided. I was still in shock. I'm not a religious man, but if I were, this would have been the time at which I thanked god.

Obviously I did not die in this moment, but a part of me did. My ability to feel at all carefree about anything was gone. From this moment forward I knew I was going to have to live my life a different way. I needed to do something worthwhile, become somebody. I would have to become a more dedicated person. Up until this point I had little regard for my health. That would be the first and easiest thing I would change. I was going to do whatever was in my power to prevent an event like this from occurring again. Unfortunately though it did happen again. It came back the next day even worse; I was rushed to the hospital. After being there for a few hours my symptoms again subsided and none of their tests showing anything, so I went back home.

Slowly over the next few weeks, the symptoms started to recur less and less and when they did I wasn't nearly as scared as after having it happen a couple times I realized it wasn't killing me. Its been three months since the first time it happened and to this day no one's really sure what caused it. The prevailing theory is that it was acid reflux, which has been known to mimic heart attacks on rare occasions, luckily though it's not nearly as deadly. That diagnoses doesn't fully explain all of the symptoms though.

They say that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. That's the perfect poetic image for the end of life. It wraps up your life's story in a neat little bow right before it all disappears. There's no real reason to believe it's true though. No scientific evidence backs up this fabled occurrence. I've had so many wonderful times in my life, maybe I just didn't come close enough death, but none of those times came back to me. I just felt a sensation of being alone, and that was even though there were people with me. I truly hope that when my time comes and I'm the closest to death I'll ever be, that I will see my life play back, and even more importantly, I hope that there will be something amazing to see.

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