Descriptive Essay: A Childhood Problem

My mother is staring down at me tears in her eyes saying, “Your going to be fine.” The room is all light blue including the walls, curtains, and even the sheets, but there’s a sense of dull that you can see. The door swings open and a large group of doctors and nurses grabbed my bed I’m on and pulled me out of the room. Before I leave I see that my mom is no full of tears as I’m just laying there oblivious to what is going on. There is flash after flash as the doctors drag my bed under the lights. The doctors but a strange mask around my mouth and tolled me to count to ten. I breathe in the air from the mask and everything went black.

I woke up confused. Wondering what was going on. I looked around a lot of things were blurry, but I could tell I was in a different room. It wasn’t the same cliché room I was in before the curtains were green. There was a pull-out bed with brown sheets on it that I assumed was for parents. I kept glancing around until I feel arms around me and realize they are my mother’s. Thats when it finally hits me. I survived, and now I could live my life how ever I see fit. A feeling of warmth spread throughout my body splashing me with a sense of happyness and relief.

I reflect on that day and constantly see it as a completly different thing now. As a kid there was a sense of accomplishment that I would get everyday I would wake, But now instead of a sense of accomplishment I feel nothing anymore. That scenario changed my life forever and now I look at it as if  it was a simple childhood problem as if every kid went through it. I compare it like the problem with the clay pot I had when I was younger.

You can smell the burnt clay as all around children are laughing and having fun. While I’m nervous and worried. I sit there motionless staring at a blob of clay not knowing what to do.Time is speeding up as my brain seems to slow down thinking of ideas for the clay before me. Then in the nick of time I decided something simple, yet practical a pot to hold things that I may lose. I quickly grab the clay taking a small piece and putting it to the side, the idea already taking place in my head. I start rolling the clay in total focus as the loud sound of kids were slowly fading away as I build my sculpture.  The clay feeling smoother and smoother as my desired shape was formed. I grabbed a cutting tool and carved a hole with little resistance in the now completed round piece of pale clay. I look around and saw that I was  the only one with the idea of making a item to hold stuff in. I saw kids being excited as they add the their final touches.  I decide thats what I need to do so I grab the little piece thats left and begin to roll it thinner and thinner. I combine both ends of the thin clay and putting them on the opposite of the top of the pot allowing it to now have an area for carrying. As time is running out i use my last minutes just carveing anything I could think of into the pot and then finally put my initials at the bottom claiming the  art as mine and mine alone. The feeling or nervousness and worry has completly into happiness  as I was finally done. I join the kids now with smiles on all of our faces as we had all finished are sculptures. Time runs out as my pot is taking away with me knowing that in a few days I see how my work payed off.