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ENGL 110- The Scariest event of my Life

Aug 10, 2023

For this assignment, please choose a word that could fit into the blank space above. The completed statement will serve as the title of your essay. The word you use to fill in the blank space in the title will determine the subject of your essay. You may choose to write about the worst, best, saddest, happiest, funniest, or even scariest (or any other word you can think of that will fit into this title) event of your life.

In a thesis-driven, typed, double-spaced essay of 4-5 pages, please tell the story of the _______ event of your life.
Your essay should be made up of multiple ideas, each supporting your topic. Those ideas should be separated into the various paragraphs of your essay. You might begin the essay by introducing the event, and then devote the remaining paragraphs to narrating the event in detail, step by step.

The Scariest Event of my Life

Fear can be defined as an emotion that causes distress to our anatomy by anticipation regarding any kind of danger. This emotion garners strength if the danger becomes enigmatic to basic understanding. It is not This enigmatic outcome doesn’t need to arise otherworldly elements, sometimes things in the known domain can also cause incomprehensible endangerment. Fear is an extremely intimate experience for everyone. Everybody’s threshold of fear is distinct. The capability inside a person to withstand a particular thing is different. The particular thing that moves a person might not be as effective in the case of another person.

In regard to my expeRegarding is an extremely personal encounter. For me, fear is getting in an immediate jurisdiction, to another person’s emotions. Unfortunately, my worst fear became a literal reality. The bus can be accurately termed as my second home of sorts. From my childhood, I have had multiple trips on this public apparatus. Before this experience, I never really thought much about my relationship with this machinery. It was a constant disregarded companionship. The reason behind it in all probability is the fact that the apparatus was always a source of comfort. It wasn’t always an easy ‘ride’, quite literally. There were days it was jam-packed, to the brim, and then moments when it gave solace to the soul by somehow magically making even the mundane of sceneries a verbatim fairy tale effect. The day was vastly different, but somehow the same. Every unique day doesn’t carry a memorandum about its impending interest.

Julia was someone with whom I had recently developed correspondence through social media. A very typical methodology, but effective regardless. Julia and I planned our anticipated rendezvous in a typical KFC holding. It was a public place with enough crowd to make both girls feel safe while at the same time jovial enough to create an amiable atmosphere. The congeniality of social media, fortunately, translated to real life effectively, there was food, great conversation, and amicability. The meetup was close to perfect success. Unfortunately, the attribute of perfection was not carried forward for the duration of the entire day. The meeting to the despondency of both came to an end. Our friendship came to a temporary stay, that day when we bid each other goodbye. It was a resistant parting on both ends. After this parting, I looked forward to the reunion with my neglected partner, the bus. To this date, it feels like the events of the day were a cumulative outcome of the neglect I showed towards this mode. Initially, it was a conventional routine, nothing out of the ordinary. If not for the forthcoming events, this day would have been a successful venture, as I had the fortune of gaining an empty seat, by the window, one of the spots extremely close to my heart. The spot allows me to make my own world, to get transport to any place my heart desired through the avenue of imagination. It is because of this tendency that I find it difficult to comprehend the fantasy or reality of my predicament. In my bones, it feels authentic but on the other hand, my overactive imagination might have played a joke on me. Since, the last few days I waForulging in many spirit-related videos.

At first, it was a usual ambiance on the bus, but then suddenly it felt like something took over me. Suddenly I reached a trance-like state. An excruciating pain began encapsulating my anatomy. It felt that injuries were getting inflicted on me, left, right, and center. The pain felt as if I had been getting smashed from all corners. Even with the pain, my body was immobile. The pain reached a certain intensity and then subsided to give place to memory. A memory that wasn’t mine.

In an instant, I was transported to lush greenery. The image had a bunch of children playing in harmony, shifting to a warm dinner along with presumably family. In this dream, I wasn’t really experiencing the taste of food, but the emotions. The emotions of domestic sentiment. The emotion was overwhelming as if someone is trying to hold an escaping rope, as the rope was going away, so was hope, the hope of carrying on. It was at this moment that I realized that this is the memory of the departed, more specifically, the departing. This person is losing their life, and dreams, ambitions, and scope. It was essentially a sad turn of events, but at the same time was inducing panic in me. I was experiencing something out of my own body, but still within its confines. The experience made every sense to me but encapsulated lunacy to its core. It felt as if I had lost my marbles, and given up control over the one thing that is essentially mine, my spirit.

Then, suddenly the memories subsided, it almost felt as if a string has been broken, very harshly and instantaneously. The body and soul just felt drained, as if there was nothing inside it. At one moment there was this immense struggle to survive, and then death took over. At that moment, I also regained the reign of my body. The feeling at that point can only be described with the word, ‘flabbergasted’. It almost felt as if I had lived another life, all together in probably a span of 15 minutes. Weirdly, my first reaction was not to relate this experience but to get out of the vehicle. I don’t remember anything about the next few moments, the only recollection I have, is of being outside panting, for a breath and abruptly seeing a bunch of scratches. These were scratches that you see when a bus gets involved in an accident.

Things began to get roughly summed up in my head. The memory I felt might belong to one of the victims of that accident. Unfortunately, whose spirit hadn’t left the bus? The spirit in all probability used me as a vessel, to reminisce her fondest memories, probably for the last time. The information made me feel a multitude of emotions. The emotions at that instant were sad and grateful. I was grateful that the spirit left my body as I understand the inclination to not do so. Life is a beautiful thing, and unfortunately, we realize it oftentimes when it is too late. The pitfalls that humans need to experience as they go through life can never hold a candle to the moments that make life worth living. These moments could be as small as eating dinner with your family or playing peacefully in the playground. The spirit wanted to feel those emotions again, not the ones where she might have felt at the top of the world, but moments of simple and pure bliss. That aspect touched my heart deeply.

The experience left a lasting impact on me and made me realize the preciousness of the life I am living. On a lighter note, it gave me a terrible phobia of the bus, especially the window seats. There is always a tingling tendency in me to know more about this incident, to research the bus, or know about the person inhabiting me, but I always restrain myself, as in my opinion, the other world should be left alone. Moreover, this experience has left such a mark on me that I don’t want all of it to just come out as a figment of my imagination.

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