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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1362611-Where-are-you-going
by Myles
Rated: E · Essay · Writing · #1362611
This is my U Chicago Uncommon Application essay.
  I can't see anything, its complete darkness. It seems like I have
been here for a long time. I start punching, kicking, and twisting
aimlessly. But I am not completely aimless, I feel something. I start
drifting downwards, and upside down. Gradually, I open a door. A spec
of light starts shining my world. The light gets bigger, bigger,
bigger, until everything goes blank. I rub my eyes to adjust the
change. I feel the cold air starting to surround me. I see a track,
full of people walking, jogging, or running around the track, each
person going in a different direction, buried in their own goals and
thoughts. I check the door which I came from--locked. Something behind
me starts pushing me--like an invisible hand. I want to stop it but I
can't. Without any option but to move, I bend down, and tie my
shoelaces. Skip around a bit, reminding myself, Let's do this
Myungchul.
  I take my few first steps to existence, trying to think of a cause.
How did everything start? Why do I need to run? Breaking my thoughts,
the hand starts pushing me, forcing me to move. So I run, uncertain,
but not worried, enjoying everything new around me, from the few, yet
beautiful trees to the indistinct voices of people. Senior citizens
jog slowly around the track. Excited young men run hurriedly, they
seem to have purpose. I catch up with them and ask, "Where are you
going?" A tall young man in a sweatshirt and jeans replies, "I don't
know, just enjoying running." He didn't look like my kind--probably
from a European descent. I turn to an Asian, he surely looks stressed.
"Where are you going?" I ask. He glances irritably at me, and replies,
"Can't you see I'm busy? I'm on the way to success." I lose pace with
the young men; they seem in a big hurry.
  As I get back to my pace, I notice a student, looking slightly
older than me, sitting on the track edge--alone. He pulls a smoke out,
lights it, and inhales it as if it was his last breath. Protecting his
hands from the cold, he holds the smoke with his lips, burying his
hands down deep inside his pocket. He abruptly coughs, dropping the
cigarette to the ground. He curses the ground and picks it up. For the
first time, feeling my gaze, he stares up at me. I, quickly look
forward, pretending to be self-possessed. I am unable to think, but I
continue running without worries.
  As I finish one lap, two laps, three laps, and now in my thirteenth
lap; I notice something inside me is changing. My lungs breathe at a
faster, irregular rate. My legs start feeling heavier. My head starts
to tilt back, as if air friction just increased. My sweat glands open,
releasing sweat. Everything around me starts looking different.
"Faster, faster," the hand seems to tell me, starting to exasperate
me. Everything annoys me, everything beautiful--no more. I now notice
people around me, how much better they look, how effortlessly they
run, how expensive shoes they have... I slow down in front of a mirror,
Look at that! What a disaster! I feel ashamed of my existence. I want
to finish it, but I can't, as if I were a slave of the hand. I look
behind me. I notice something I knew, something I never thought about--
women. I start noticing more and more of them, for their beauty and
distinctness from men.
  I see a group of guys, they look cool. I ask, "Hey, can I join you
guys?" They all look surprised, and have a quick glance at me from top
to bottom. Please say yes! Not decided, they give a sign to a guy. He
looks like he is the leader. I scrutinize him, everything, every
single part of him is a wonder. If I were a girl, I would fall in love
with him at first sight. "So you want hang out with us?" he said,
breaking my bizarre thoughts. This time, he scrutinizes me, and after
a moment of thought, simply says, "Let him stay." I look up and see
the sunset in the horizon. The sky, gray to my knowledge, reveals for
the first time its crimson magnificence in a fusion of red, orange,
purple, and ocean-blue colors. Being with the new guys brings be a
mixture of feelings--partly anxiousness, partly excitement.
  We go shop some things for tonight. "Hum...get some of that," he
said, and the other guy pointed a green bottle which had 'Heineken' on
the label and said, "This one?" "No, not that one, the Corona next to
it, get about twenty bottles of them." He replied. Should I ask what
they are? Nah, I might be embarrassed. As we approached the cashier
Jay, the leader, casually said, "Two Marlboros, please." All the
bottles were calculated by a strange machine that beeped every time a
bottle passed in front of it. "Sixty dollars fifty cents... anything
else? Oh sir, do you have an ID? Just to make sure..." the cashier
asked. Making an annoyed face, he draws out his wallet, and shows him
his driver's license. The cashier looks at it, and gives an approving
look saying, "Sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you for shopping,
hope to see you again."
  As we get out of the building, Jay draws his cigarette out and
lights it. "Ah, finally a nicotine refill." He said. Feeling my stare,
he offers me one. At that moment, I flash back to the memory of the
student on the side of the road. I try to reminisce something his eyes
were trying to tell me, something, but I can't figure it out.
Unconsciously, I take the smoke and put it on my lips. He clicks the
lighter, the fire burning the cigarette. I inhale deeply, and feel an
overwhelming sensation. My lungs feel as if the smoke hurts--but not
necessarily a painful one. The ground is shaking, twisting in a manner
that makes me want to vomit. I try to walk balanced, but my legs won't
listen to me. I put my hands on my knees for some rest. "Are you
alright?" one of them asks me. "Yeah, I'm fine..." I reply. We go to a
house, I see a lot of people, densely packed, and I also hear loud
music. We get in, and a rollercoaster of events follow, starting from
the hissing sound that the bottle makes when opened to the point where
I lose control.
  "Honey, honey..." a distant voice calls me. I barely open my eyes for
light to set in. I see a lady--not gorgeous, but sweet--in front of me.
I sit up, and notice a cute little girl running at me, calling,
"Daddy, Daddy!" and jumping straight into my arms. What? I'm a father
already? "Honey, hurry up, you don't want to be late for your first
day of work." She said. I'm running, holding hands with my wife. The
last fifteen laps with my wife were the most beautiful ones. We
enjoyed the sunsets, and the majestic show of sparkling stars and the
cold moon. I never thought I said "thank you" to her. I have always
wanted to say it, but the words never came out.
  "Myungchul, something's not right," she said. "What's wrong?" I
reply. She slowly looks down, confused. "Honey, talk to me." I say,
feeling something is not right. She does not respond. I turn my eyes
to where she was looking. I notice that her feet sink whenever she
takes a step--like walking on sand. Moments later, the ground reached
her ankle. "Help me!" she frantically screams. I grab he arm, and pull
as hard as I can. I can't lift her an inch. Desperation settles all
over her face, body, and her actions. Now the ground reaches her waist...
her chest...her neck. I desperately started talking, "Joey...no Joey,
don't leave me. I hate when you are not running next to me. You
promised to forever stay with me! I'm so sorry I never said 'thank
you,' or anything nice like that. I always wanted to...I really did. I
have so many things left to tell you, so many things to do with you..."
  She coughs as the ground closes in around her neck. She smiles at
me. The smile I fell in love with. Now I can only see her eyes. Her
eyes penetrate me, catching every detail of me. I felt something on my
back, the hand. There were times where I disliked the hand, but this
time, I hated everything of it. Why can't you just leave me alone!
Don't you see that this is the time when I would like you to not
exist? Ignoring me, the hand pushes me even farther away from her. I
turn my head, as much as I can, and fix my eyes with her eyes. Tears
fall as she gets father and farther away. Every passing second--I can
do less for her. And then she was gone. I can't see her anymore, and I
know she is never coming back. I look up; the sky was beautiful laps
ago, showing its magnificent splendor. But now, the mixture of all
those beautiful colors was gone, leaving a somber mixture of grayish
colors.
  My race, my life, was filled with moments of happiness and
enjoyment of the surroundings, but also laps of emptiness and despair.
I know my final days are near. Some days, I cannot keep my pace. To
catch my breath, I bend down my knees and hold myself with my arms.
Soon, however, I lose my balance because of the hand pushing me. I
notice a young lad next to me. Signs of innocence were written all
over his face. I smile. He politely smiles back. To break the silence,
I ask the question I was burning to ask every single person on this
track: Where are you going?


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