Advanced Essay #1 - I Want to be a Child Again


This paper follows the idea that memories are usually idolized in good benefit and we seem to always neglect the bad parts about it. It tells the story of multiple events in my life that I always loved and remember and I decided to name the negative things about each situation that we all know about but never say. I am very proud of my analysis in this paper, and how I connected my stories back to my main idea. Also, I love my anecdote and how I went back to that idea in my conclusion. Some things I feel I could do better with in the future is adding dialogue into my story and let it run smoothly throughout the essay. Also, I hope my descriptive writing is good enough for the reader to feel exactly what I felt when writing this story and understand the idea of the entire paper.

I Want to be a Child Again by Tia Roberts

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! The sound of a roaring and shattering killer of a lavish night of sleep. I slowly rise, eyes barely allowing me to see the full sight. The red lines marking a distant six, zero, zero. Just minutes of sitting there in my head soon turned into longer times in reality. Rushing to get ready for a day I knew I would surely regret; full of tedious classwork and never ending periods. Reminiscing about a time when life was so easy and simple. When very complex situations were more obvious. Allowing myself to be free to my own extent. Being young was a blessing, but it also has its setbacks. I miss the idea of childhood more than actually living a child’s life. 

Running on the hard cemented ground where the pebbles felt like thousands of small hills my feet soon had to climb. Approaching the cold metal gates that were almost five times my height. Looking through the diamond shaped holes which opened a hole of happiness within my body. The sight of kids and laughter was all I needed to fill my body with a bursting dose of excitement. I loved the park, it was always my favorite place to go. But as time goes by I realize the pain I always endure; from the leaking blood streams of my knee or the plumping purple blisters that covered my fingers. I remember crying about every little scrape and always needing a person right by my side to take care of it. This made me question my constant need to be in this situation again. As we get older our memories of childhood all seem to be happy and something we wish we could relive, but we tend to forget all the negative aspects of our memories. When we think of the park we focus on the fun of it, like all the games and friends we made during each visit. We forget to mention the times when everything wasn’t so perfect at the park. Like that time when I lost my favorite toy, or all the red swollen hands I would take home just to ice because of the monkey bars. Not only did these constant bumps and bruises affect my cry baby childhood, but also my now partially adult life. The whole scenery of parks no longer resembled fun for me. Just many dull swing sets empty of life with all it’s tears in it’s hard black material. No hope for the slides filled with unrepairable marks and uncleansed kids. Childhood must have just sounded better in my mind.

Crawling on the warm fuzzy carpet from the playroom to my bedroom. The lights in the living room always had a gloomy look to them. Constantly observing the world around me was something like a habit. Having nothing to worry about but your own actions was one of the best features of childhood. Not a care in the world. Crawling up the steps felt like rock climbing because if I went too fast I would tumble and fall. But the fall was not my biggest fear. The fear of not reaching my destination was the biggest one. It crossed my mind more times then my body hitting the ground after missing my next step. Having the freedom to make my own moves was a good thing; until you realize that there was always a larger restriction. My imagination ran wild only to soon be caught by the ones who always towered me. Shadows of figures grew bigger and bigger, it seemed as if my day of play soon turned for the worst. No more running, no more toys, just lay in the bed and make no noise. But I loved playing with my toys from the play room and making a scene. Naming them and dressing them up how ever I wanted. Discovering that this feeling doesn’t last was like thousands of knives stabbing me in my chest. My idea of childhood has abandoned me and left me with unpleasant memories. This has now helped me escape this imaginary world of where everything is all fun and games to open my eyes to reality. The reality that not everything is good. Life when we were younger always seemed to backfire on us yet we praise it as a time we wish we could have back. No reliving, we continue on.

Daddy’s little girl sounds like the perfect title as it left the lips of the over towering stranger. Proud to be called that name, which left smiles on so many faces. Everything about it seemed perfect until I realized the importance of the title and all the actions that came with it. Always wanting my father and hugging him until my face loses most of it’s oxygen. Calling for him day and night and always wanting the comfort of him near me. “Daddy!” Sadly this wasn’t particularly my reality. Hugs went to the bear that was fluffier than a bed of marshmallows. Taller than a child like me and sweeter than a sweet tooth. I was a mommy’s girl which you don’t hear often but even so, as the years went on the bond slowly faded. The child that always wanted her parents became a child who could now explore an undiscovered world without them. The idea of the towering strangers became stranger than the idea of no comments at all. I realized maybe I like being the age I am.

Loud alarm clocks became smoothing beeps. Swaying side to side as I awoke from my sleep. Starting my day of a newly found adventure, now seemed like the greatest thing in my life. So yes I sat through my tedious classes and never ending periods, but it all came with my freedom of life and freedom of expression. Yes being young may have its ups and fun moments but it can also bring you down. Childhood is not always as amazing as it sounds. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! I’m ready.