20035279 #29
Mrs. M Turner
Advanced Composition A – Fifth hour
23 April 2009
A Change in Life
We have all had someone in our lives that influence us and help us be better people, but there is usually one specific person that we all look up to and admire and hope to be more like that person when we grow up. Although there are many people that fit that description in a person's life, there is usually one specific person that is looked up to the most. We all have different people to look up to, but there is always someone there to look up to and admire, no matter what kind of person they are.
Although there are many people in my life that influence me to be who I am today, and there are many people that I look up to and admire, there is only one person that I truly can look up to, and that is my friend Marvic Malabanan. Marvic and I have known each other for our entire lives, and he is one of my closest friends. Because of this reason, I know Marvic’s personality and most of his greatest qualities. I can honestly say that Marvic is the nicest person that I know; always worrying about everyone and making sure not to say the wrong words and hurt others feelings. He truly is a great person.
One of Marvic’s greatest qualities is that he is always there to listen to problems and situations in one’s life. He will drop everything he is doing and immediately listen to what the person is telling him and honestly try his hardest to help them through their problem without being too biased. These days, hardly anyone can listen to a problem or situation without trying to side with one side or another. However, Marvic disregards the “sides” and just tells you what he thinks is right and what should be done to solve the problem. Also, he is just a great person to talk to about life. Personally, I have spent many hours with Marvic just talking about everything and nothing. I would have to say this is his greatest quality; to be able to have fun and talk about life as if it was just another problem in someone’s daily life.
Another one of Marvic’s qualities that I really admire is his ability to not talk bad about anyone. These days, it is hard to find someone that is not caught up in the gossip and bad mouthing of friends and even strangers. If caught bad mouthing or talking about someone, Marvic will personally intervene and say why he thinks it is wrong to talk about a person in such a manner. Although sometimes it is hard to talk about someone without bad mouthing them or saying what is disliked about the person, being around Marvic makes me a better person overall because if I am always talking bad or bad mouthing someone, I will soon be at that end of the line; having people talk bad about me. However, Marvic keeps me and everyone else around him in line so they do not start going down that wrong road in life and seeing everything negatively.
Overall, I believe that Marvic Malabanan is one of the greatest people that I know. He is strong, and he knows what is right. I am glad to have known him for so long and to be so close to him. Admiring all of his strengths and weaknesses, I someday hope to be more like him and have people see me the way they see him; the one they can go to for all their problems and life situations without hesitating to ask. I believe Marvic and I will be great friends forever, and I am glad to have met him back when we were in preschool.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
english paper
As the soft dinging of the school bell sounded, I quickly gathered my things together and crammed them into my bag. I rose from my cool, plastic seat as I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder. Rushing to the door, I waited impatiently for my friend to make his way over to me. The seconds seemed like hours as I stood waiting, the minutes for the walk we had to make slowly decreasing. I had to be so lucky as to go to a school district that requires me to walk back and forth between three schools. I thought, sarcastically. Can't wait till it starts snowing. When my friend finally reached me, I shot him a scowl before turning toward the door and exiting.
Making our way out into the hallway, we both could see that today was not a day we would arrive to third hour on time. Kids were pouring out of the many classrooms and into the small hallway hardly fit for ten kids. Forcefully pushing our way into the crowd, my friend and I managed to snag a spot in the large mass of people all slowly migrating toward the door. Frustration and impatience coursed through me as I saw the groups of people randomly standing in the middle of the hallway having conversations, disregarding everyone that was trying to get through. A couple seconds later, the crowd finally started moving at a faster pace, allowing me to get closer to the door. Giving a final shove to the people ahead of me, my friend and I managed to make it through the door and out into the cold.
As soon as I stepped outside, the icy wind made no hesitation to whip against my face. Hoping my sweater would provide some warmth, I reached around my head and pulled my hood up. Looking over at my friend, I could see he had done the same. It was only the first day of autumn yet it felt like winter. Not softening its harsh lashes, the wind continued to whip around my friend and me, causing shivers to run continuously down my spine. Looking around me, I could see that the mass majority of the population had already dug out their winter coats and jackets from the depths of their closets. The big puffy coats and scarves might have been too soon for kids in other school districts, but for the kids who attended PCEP, puffy coats and scarves were the only way to stay warm while walking between the three schools.
I laughed softly, asking myself why I had not done the same, for the hoodie I was wearing provided hardly any warmth. Because of the cold, my friend and I had hardly spoken a word to each other. From the look on his face, I could tell he was just as cold as I was. Despite not wanting to move at all, I reached down into my pocket and exposed the bottom of my phone; 9:24 a.m. Cursing silently, I nudged my friend as if telling him to walk faster, for we only had three more minutes to get into Plymouth.
Meandering around the group moving slowly in front of us, my friend and I picked up our pace. As we stepped onto the Plymouth-Salem bridge, the metal ramp creaked loudly from beneath us, as if about to break. Almost there, almost there, almost there. I chanted silently to myself as another cold gust of wind hit me in the face. Right as my friend and I made our way off the bridge, the loud ringing of the Plymouth bell pierced the air around us, shortly followed by the Canton bell. By then, we were only a short distance away from the B pod doors. Half a minute later, we had finally made our way up to the door that led inside. Grabbing hold of the door handle, I yanked the door open to feel a warm rush of air hit me in the face. “Finally!” I cried, triumphantly. Waving goodbye to my friend and running quickly up the B pod stairs, the realization that I would have to make this trek everyday until the semester ended made me sigh loudly in defeat.
Making our way out into the hallway, we both could see that today was not a day we would arrive to third hour on time. Kids were pouring out of the many classrooms and into the small hallway hardly fit for ten kids. Forcefully pushing our way into the crowd, my friend and I managed to snag a spot in the large mass of people all slowly migrating toward the door. Frustration and impatience coursed through me as I saw the groups of people randomly standing in the middle of the hallway having conversations, disregarding everyone that was trying to get through. A couple seconds later, the crowd finally started moving at a faster pace, allowing me to get closer to the door. Giving a final shove to the people ahead of me, my friend and I managed to make it through the door and out into the cold.
As soon as I stepped outside, the icy wind made no hesitation to whip against my face. Hoping my sweater would provide some warmth, I reached around my head and pulled my hood up. Looking over at my friend, I could see he had done the same. It was only the first day of autumn yet it felt like winter. Not softening its harsh lashes, the wind continued to whip around my friend and me, causing shivers to run continuously down my spine. Looking around me, I could see that the mass majority of the population had already dug out their winter coats and jackets from the depths of their closets. The big puffy coats and scarves might have been too soon for kids in other school districts, but for the kids who attended PCEP, puffy coats and scarves were the only way to stay warm while walking between the three schools.
I laughed softly, asking myself why I had not done the same, for the hoodie I was wearing provided hardly any warmth. Because of the cold, my friend and I had hardly spoken a word to each other. From the look on his face, I could tell he was just as cold as I was. Despite not wanting to move at all, I reached down into my pocket and exposed the bottom of my phone; 9:24 a.m. Cursing silently, I nudged my friend as if telling him to walk faster, for we only had three more minutes to get into Plymouth.
Meandering around the group moving slowly in front of us, my friend and I picked up our pace. As we stepped onto the Plymouth-Salem bridge, the metal ramp creaked loudly from beneath us, as if about to break. Almost there, almost there, almost there. I chanted silently to myself as another cold gust of wind hit me in the face. Right as my friend and I made our way off the bridge, the loud ringing of the Plymouth bell pierced the air around us, shortly followed by the Canton bell. By then, we were only a short distance away from the B pod doors. Half a minute later, we had finally made our way up to the door that led inside. Grabbing hold of the door handle, I yanked the door open to feel a warm rush of air hit me in the face. “Finally!” I cried, triumphantly. Waving goodbye to my friend and running quickly up the B pod stairs, the realization that I would have to make this trek everyday until the semester ended made me sigh loudly in defeat.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
carmine calabro
Type of Crime: Mutilation and Biting
Date: 1979
Location: New York City
On October 12, 1979, the body of Francine Elveson was found nude on the roof of the Pelham Parkway housing project in the Bronx. She had sustained many injuries, consisting of being beaten, and strangled with the strap of her purse. Also, across her chest scrawled in ballpoint pen, was a message from the killer to the police, challenging them to track him down. In his frenzy he had launched a ferocious biting attack on the insides of Elveson’s thighs.
The incriminating evidence in this case were the bite marks left on Francine Elveson’s thighs. They processed the evidence by taking photographs and making casts to compare to the teeth of a possible suspect using a variety of equipment that could include infrared and ultraviolet photography, electron microscopy, even computer analysis.
The profile that the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit provided of the killer was incredibly accurate. The Unit predicted that the killer was a male, aged twenty-five to thirty-five, poorly educated, probably living in the building where the attack had occurred, either alone or with a single parent, and suffering from a psychosis so acute that it would have required treatment in a mental institution. The actual profile of Calabro was that he was thirty-two years old, in the age range that the Unit gave. Calabro was also poorly educated because since he left the hospital, he had dropped out of high school, and was also living in the same building as the victim, even on the same floor. Calabro lived with a single parent; his dad, and also had a history of mental instability and had to go to the hospital for treatment. Overall, the Behavioral Science Unit provided a very accurate profile of the killer, getting almost every little detail correct.
When a single black pubic hair was found on Francine Elveson’s body, the investigators thought the hair was shed by the attacker, however, by the end of the investigation, the police had finally found out that the black hair was indeed not a hair from the killer, but from a black male murder victim Calabro had killed before he killed Francine Elveson.
Date: 1979
Location: New York City
On October 12, 1979, the body of Francine Elveson was found nude on the roof of the Pelham Parkway housing project in the Bronx. She had sustained many injuries, consisting of being beaten, and strangled with the strap of her purse. Also, across her chest scrawled in ballpoint pen, was a message from the killer to the police, challenging them to track him down. In his frenzy he had launched a ferocious biting attack on the insides of Elveson’s thighs.
The incriminating evidence in this case were the bite marks left on Francine Elveson’s thighs. They processed the evidence by taking photographs and making casts to compare to the teeth of a possible suspect using a variety of equipment that could include infrared and ultraviolet photography, electron microscopy, even computer analysis.
The profile that the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit provided of the killer was incredibly accurate. The Unit predicted that the killer was a male, aged twenty-five to thirty-five, poorly educated, probably living in the building where the attack had occurred, either alone or with a single parent, and suffering from a psychosis so acute that it would have required treatment in a mental institution. The actual profile of Calabro was that he was thirty-two years old, in the age range that the Unit gave. Calabro was also poorly educated because since he left the hospital, he had dropped out of high school, and was also living in the same building as the victim, even on the same floor. Calabro lived with a single parent; his dad, and also had a history of mental instability and had to go to the hospital for treatment. Overall, the Behavioral Science Unit provided a very accurate profile of the killer, getting almost every little detail correct.
When a single black pubic hair was found on Francine Elveson’s body, the investigators thought the hair was shed by the attacker, however, by the end of the investigation, the police had finally found out that the black hair was indeed not a hair from the killer, but from a black male murder victim Calabro had killed before he killed Francine Elveson.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)