Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Descriptive Essay About Childhood free essay sample

When I was a baby, the world was a lot different. Everything was incredibly bright, or awfully dark. I was remarkably happy, or I was terribly scared. I lived in a world of extremes. I was trapped on an elevator that soared to the top floor in an instant, and plummeted to the basement the next. Nothing, not one feeling, not one moment in time, lasted long enough for me to explore. Then, as I stood up for the first time, the elevator came to a halt and the shiny, metal door slid slowly open. With a ding, I opened my eyes. What stood before me, framed in the elevator door, was a giant, majestic tree. As I took my first steps out of the elevator, the soothing carpet beneath my feet was replaced with short, prickly grass. The horizon was hazy and golden and the air was fresh and crisp. We will write a custom essay sample on Descriptive Essay About Childhood or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page As I approached the tree, the elevator door shut violently behind me, and a loud bang echoed for an eternity before it vanished in a cloud of grey fog. The cloud of fog grew steadily, like bacteria spreading, and I was paralyzed as I watched it engulf the entire world. I was startled, but the giant tree demanded my attention. I continued towards it until I arrived at the trunk and wrapped my arms around as much of it as I could. It was covered in microscopic needles and I relinquished my grip on it almost at once. I looked down at my chest and arms, and found that they were covered with red scrapes. I gazed back up at the tree. I followed its trunk until it disappeared into the fog. I wondered what the fog was hiding. The more my curiosity grew, the less pronounced my scrapes became, until they had completely disappeared and were replaced with tougher skin. Then, by instinct, I reached for the lowest branch and heaved myself upwards. When I grabbed each branch, it felt rough, but no longer punctured my skin. The further up the tree I climbed, the further apart the branches became, until I arrived at a point which I could no longer reach any branches. I could see nothing below or above. The entire world was a mystery to me, but I was growing; and before long, I was tall enough to reach all of the branches I needed. I happily climbed and lived on the tree for many years, striving to reach the top and penetrate the fog. As time passed, I grew taller and stronger, yet still, the mystery of the world remained. Then, as suddenly as the elevator door had opened so long ago, I rose above the fog. I was blinded by a bright, white light, and while my eyes were adjusting, a howling wind threw me off balance. I grabbed mindlessly for any branch I could use to hang on, but it was no use; and I fell. I landed on my back with a dull thud. I found myself lying at the foot of a sad, dying, peely tree; as I had been growing, the tree had been shrinking. I stared up at a clear, blue sky, as the hair on my arms erected, and tiny goose bumps emerged on the surface of my pale skin. Each breathe I took exploded into a cloud of fog, and evaporated at once. Now every blade of grass, every antenna attached to every insect, every mountain range contained within every chunk of bark on every tree, was in sharp relief. It seemed that the mystery of the world had vanished. Had I finally discovered the truth? I saw, heard, touched, tasted and smelled all that I could, but I was not contented. The feeling of anticipation; of not knowing; the mystery that had consumed me as a child, was missing. And as I sat in a smoggy traffic jam eating a drippy burrito, I wondered if I could ever get it back.

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