I am a Warrior by Madison

I am a Warrior by Madison - May 2016 Scholarship Essay

My school is a war zone. Dramatic teenage girls fire at innocent bystanders, overwhelming extra circulars take another victim, and tests prepare for massive attacks with the help of the teachers, who had been preparing since August for these battles. “Your final exam is scheduled, check the website if you have any questions,” they spat at us in October. Once upon a time, these words would have only grazed my shoulder. Unfortunately, with a rough freshmen year and an almost fatal sophomore season, I needed to focus. With senior year fast approaching, my junior year grades were essentially a matter of life and death, at least in my mind.
So, I decided to start early. Finals were going to be my biggest enemy until I defeated them in late December, and I needed a battle strategy. I had four classes to panic about. Four entirely different subjects meant four unique attacks, and putting it off wouldn’t make it any easier. I laid out my map and began to prioritize. Pre-Calculus would demand small chunks of review problems scattered over the next couple months, as would AP Physics. AP English would require me to make flashcards, and AP U.S. history insisted that I spend time listening to review videos. I had two months, and wanted to have my ammunition prepared by early December. If I started loading up now, I could win. Maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible, if I could stick to a plan.
I devoted my free time to drills and exercises. My morning music jams transformed into John Green Crash Course lectures about the Civil War, lunches became vocabulary practice, and after school, three days a week, I was discussing strategy with my calculator. Before I knew it, I was telling my cats about the Presidents and their policies, while my closest friends noticed that my limited vocabulary was expanding to include words off my study guide. Old math and physics tests went everywhere I did, and I practically slept with my calculator. But drilling couldn’t be the only thing I did. After all, the body is a machine, and without proper maintenance, it will shut down.
In addition to target practice, I made sure I was sleeping and eating. I made time for social events, and binge watched Parks and Recreation to quiet my racing mind. I painted portraits, made myself some amazing sandwiches, and listened to my favorite songs. I deserved my days of relaxation. However, before I knew it, December had arrived. But I was ready.
I smeared war paint underneath my eyes and charged into my first battle. Black ink was necessary for English if I stood any chance of success. I began to fire rapidly at my paper, crossing words off the extensive list I had been provided. Twenty five blanks filled in, and I knew they were all correct. But something was wrong. Why were there so many words left in the word bank? I flipped the paper over as another twenty blank spaces began to attack. An ambush! Ten minutes. Go! Go! Go! I knocked the enemy over as quickly as I could. Five minutes. Five more words. Wait. I’ve never even seen this one before. Was this even on a flashcard? Wait a minute, it’s just a distraction. Nice try Mr. Wildner. I fill in the last blank as the bell rings. Battle one was over. I had survived. But I wasn’t done yet.
I raced into Physics, bruised and cut, and grabbed a pencil with a fresh eraser. This one should be easy. Multiple choice questions were inferior to my cutting edge brain, and free response questions were obsolete. Easy. Battle two done. Into number three. I gulped down some water before squatting behind the bushes of my math class. I could use the same pencil, but would have to be sneaky. Math questions had a way of confusing me, but I wasn’t prepared to lose now. I pounced on the paper, bubbling in A’s, B’s, C’s, and D’s. This was almost too easy. Every shot whizzed by me, not even close, or did I speak too soon? None of the above? Is this even legal on the battlefield? I was running low on grenades, and had a limited number of shots left. Just as I was about to admit defeat, my calculator jumped to my rescue, blocking me from gunshots, the small battery on its screen flashing red. Come on come on I just need to answer this last question. Got it! I carried my wounded friend to the infirmary, but I had to keep going. My worst nemesis was waiting for me. But I was strong. Covered in dirt, and exhausted, I slowly filled in more bubbles. Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War. Thomas Jefferson and the Declaration. Slowly but surely, I answered everything. Battle four, done. It was over. It was all over.
My flashcards were ripped, my calculator was recovering, and my pencil was dull, but I had won. I had defeated the beast that haunted my dreams. My strategies had been successful. My school is a war zone, but I, am a warrior.