This is my essay, a bit edited, it's supposed to be more direct.
I think my ending is super weak. HELP!
It all began with a wad of spit. A group of drooling teenagers formed a line every day after school in Mr. Negrelli's science class. They had heard rumors of how they would be pinched and poked, of how with a few tests, they would learn the deepest secrets of their identity. They entered the room expecting to see Dr. Frankenstein in a laboratory suit. Instead, they saw amateur Fryda wearing oversize latex gloves, equally enthusiastic but slightly lacking in skill. Tongs held clumsily in one hand and a stopwatch gripped in another were her unrefined tools of discovery.
It was eighth grade when I decided to step into the coliseum of State Science Fair competitors. Familiar with exploding baking soda volcanoes and Rube Goldberg contraptions, I had fallen to the misconception that science projects were supposed to imitate and impress. While I was still expected to construct a presentation twice my size, I would have to abandon the mounds of paper-mâché for the more polished mounds of data and research.
Shadows formed under my eyes as I spent nights inputting the results of the Myers-Briggs tests--which measure introversion and extroversion--and comparing them to the masses of saliva I collected. Would there even be any relationship between the two? As drowsiness shuffled in, so did many forms of lucidity: modest drool suddenly transformed into a product of amygdala stimulation! I started seeing happiness measured in endorphin levels and temperature measured in neurons firing in the hypothalamus. After all, I was weighing personality in grams of spit--anything was possible! It was an exciting yet humbling experience--to feel so much like a scientist but still be so far from one.
Instead, I was a student that had joined the bizarre group of individuals that embraced this extra work like an adventure. We did not receive any grades for our work but I soon realized that this was never a problem. Standing on the same stage as students whose inventions would be patented by NASA was a privilege; a simple sense of accomplishment was more than enough.
Once I finally had a finished product, I could stare into the eyes of the judge, three-inch binder in hand, oversize poster board in back of me, and feel confident. Nevertheless, by this time, the project was more than a display. It had had catalyzed my fascination with the human body and introduced me to methods I could use to find answers to the most peculiar questions. This dynamic and hands-on experience made all my other assignments feel like worksheets of tedium and predictability.
In the middle of my presentation, I looked over at the graph I had plotted, and smirked. As odd as it sounded, introversion and saliva production had everything to do with each other! Research had proven what I thought was an unlikely combination. It had made me bigger than I ever was--and incited a thirst for more. While it all began with a wad of spit, it ended in discovery.