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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1800156-College-Essay-Draft-1
Rated: 13+ · Essay · Other · #1800156
the first draft of my college admissions essay

         I met my twin while I was washing dishes. And, no, I don’t mean that a deep conversation at my kitchen sink helped me to (understand) my sister. The truth is, I don’t even have a sister…but I do have a twin. Her name is Brianna, she is 15, and we both work at a restaurant called Silos. We have the (tremendously) boring job of washing strangers’ dishes for minimum wage, and our only entertainment is the conversations we are dared to start. Usually consisting of small talk about the weather and our schoolwork, it’s needless to say that Brianna and I had a rocky start getting to know each other; however, there was one Saturday evening when I realized that this girl and I have lived through the same tribulations, and that those experiences have sent us in completely opposite directions.

         “So, what should we talk about tonight?” I asked Brianna eagerly after an hour of silence. She laughed a nervous laugh and suggested we talk about our families. Embarrassed that I come from a shattered family, I asked her to begin. She started with, “Well, okay, I’ll bet you didn’t know my mom was crazy”. I laughed a hyena’s laughed and told her, “Sweetheart, you don’t know the definition of crazy until you’ve met MY mom”. Because you see, my mother was, and possibly still is, a narcissistic drug addict, and a pathological liar. In my eyes, Webster had a vision of her when he defined the word “deranged”. She threatened suicide when I told her I didn’t want to live with her. She put my dog to sleep as revenge for living with my father. She lied to attorneys, judges, and strangers alike to paint herself as a Saint. My mother filled my life with abuses of almost every type. There was no way Brianna had a worse story. And I was right, she didn’t have a worse story…she had the same story. A story of pills and bruises…of revenges and lies…of hate and distrust. I knew at that moment, that Brianna and I were the same.

         Wanting to be a psychology major, of course I was curious how two such different girls could have lived such an identical life. Brianna was a partier; I’m more of a loner. She skates through school in regular courses; I push myself into multiple AP and honors classes. She strives and pushes to pass her classes; I strive and push to achieve more. Brianna always tells me that I’m a “nerd” for taking such advanced classes, and that I should try partying to relieve some stress, but that’s just not me. As I stated in my winning Safe and Sober Prom Pledge, “I won’t risk my education for a buzz”. Brianna’s eyes are looking towards tomorrow…mine are looking towards the future. Despite our differences, ever since Brianna and I found out we lived through identical tribulations, a special bond has grown between us. We rarely see each other outside of work, but we know that, because of that bond, we will be there for each other when we need help most. And, a few months ago, she needed me the most. While planning fundraisers for my French club, I received a frantic call from Brianna. It started with a sob…then, a frantic plea for me to pick her up. She was stranded on a road in Bel Air after being dumped by a one night stand. She had a drunken night with a nineteen year old who had no idea she was so underage, and when he found out, he left her alone. She’d never admit it to me, but the psychologist in me believes she does these (things) as a call for attention and a (reach) for love. This is how she and I are different. She puts her body out in an attempt to heal her mental wounds. I put everything out to prove that my mental wounds will not let anything get in the way of my present and future successes.

         In the past seventeen years, I’ve met many people who have taken part in making me who I am. I believe we take a little of each person we meet along life’s path, and that our personality is shaped by those who make a significant impact on our hearts. I grew up timid and self-conscious, but I’ve grown into the strong-willed, independent woman that I am because of the people who have impacted my heart. There is my mother, whose abuses are the reason I’ve fought so hard to achieve. And, there’s Brianna, who has shown me that, despite my stress levels and my “nerdiness”, I’m going to be alright, and I’m going to make something of myself. 
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