Anne Tam
Professor Cocroft
Sociology 2000
5 October 2010
Research Paper Abstract
For my research paper, I was thinking of doing something that talks about the decline of certain states/cities, like Detroit. I would talk about the state problem and evaluate what the reasons are that could be leading to the economic decline of the motor city that once was a thriving, growing community. I would explain how people reacted to the starting decline of their city, and how that affected many people. People seem to succumb to the poor economy and give up, and I could relate that to sociology by talking about people’s behaviors when it comes to a negative situation., especially one as big as the decline in Detroit. The city is becoming one of the highest crime rate cities in Michigan, and this is probably the result of the economic downfall that discourages people to continue pursuing what they want in life. I could also research how the city was a century ago as compared to now, and analyze the economic differences in the city. And as a conclusion, I would discuss how the city could change in the future, and maybe go back to the famous motor city it was decades ago.

PEDOFILE

Loud ticking of the clock, the scraping of pencils on paper, and the loud breathing of the pedophile sitting next to you were all noises that distracted Justin from writing his essay. Glancing up from his hardly written paper, he snuck a quick peek at the paper the girl next to him was furiously writing. Shaking his head in disbelief, he could make out four long paragraphs

sad...

Anne Tam
3rd hour
March 28, 2010
A Loud Silence
The night was bitter as the two stood in front of each other, their faces grim. Crickets stroked their wings together, creating high-pitched chirping noises that penetrated the silent air. They did not talk, though their emotions were as easy to read as an open book. Tears streamed down her face as she caught sight of the stoic look on the boy that she had spent over a year with. Just seeing his emotionless face was enough to make her heart explode. Already her heart felt like it was being ripped out, seam by seam, stitch by stitch.
As he stood there without saying anything, the sight of the fragile girl sobbing quietly in front of him hardly fazed him. All the feelings and emotions he had ever felt for her had vanished into thin air, as quickly and easily as they had come. Running his numb fingers through his long blonde hair, he leaned back on his heels and sighed loudly in annoyance. His mouth twitched slightly as his eyes drifted towards the lights in the distance.
Looking back down at the girl he used to love, he pursed his thin lips, and said bluntly, “I have to go now.” Upon hearing his words, the fragile girl’s head shot up, the hurt completely exposed in her big light-blue eyes. Her mouth opened slightly as if trying to say something, but no words came out; not even a sound. The emotional pain she felt constricted her heart so tightly she could hardly breathe. With shaking arms, she reached out slowly towards the boy in one final desperate attempt to get him back. But when she saw his completely blank eyes, she knew she had lost. Dropping her head, she lowered her shaking arms back down by her side.
With one final look at the thin blonde haired girl, the boy nodded his final goodbye. With crunching leaves underneath his feet, he slowly turned around and strutted back to his car, leaving the girl standing alone in the gigantic barren field. The wind howled loudly, gently ruffling his hair against his head. As he made his way over to his dark-green Mercedes, he made one final look over at the center of the field to see the girl still standing there. Rolling his eyes, he reached down to grab the door handle, swung open the car door, and climbed inside without a glance back.

ice skating essay

Anne Tam
3rd hour
February 21, 2010
A Feeling Never Forgotten
Looking through the cold, hard glass, Mei-Li watched the girl in the sparkley pink leotard finish her routine on the ice and take a bow. As the girl exited the rink, Mei-Li felt a cold chill run through her body, for now it was her turn to take the spotlight on the ice. Her heart pounded with adrenaline and excitement as she saw all the people in the bleachers waiting and ready for the next performer. Taking a deep breath, she bent down, and removed her baby blue blade guards as she heard the announcer boom her name over the loudspeakers. Whispering a small prayer of good luck to herself, Mei-Li pushed open the door that led to the rink and stepped out onto the smooth ice.
As her blades touched the clean, white ice, Mei-Li instantly felt the soft tingle she had always gotten when she performed. She loved the way the cold air penetrated through her skin and left her bones with a nice, chilling effect. The way her blades sliced through the top layer of the ice told her that she was in control while in the rink. Nearing the center of the rink, Mei-Li slowed down and got into her starting position. A soft, slow song started playing on the loudspeakers, and as if entranced, Mei-Li started skating to the soft beat of the music.
Little chunks of ice flew around her as she twirled and spun like a graceful ballerina, her long, black ponytail whipping around her head. Jumps and leaps were landed perfectly, the ice not seeming at all like just a sheet of frozen water. When the end of the song neared, Mei-Li performed her finale; a triple salchow and a triple loop. As her thin blades landed perfectly on the ice, the crowd exploded with cheering and clapping. Though out of breath, Mei-Li grinned with all her heart. For her, her performances were everything, even all the minute details that some people failed to notice. The way the ice looked after the zamboni finished paving the ice and before a performance, the calming coolness in the air of the ice rink, and the soft scraping of her metal blade against the smooth ice were all things that meant a lot to her.
Still grinning from ear-to-ear, Mei-Li skated swiftly over to the door that led to the edge of the ice rink; the crowd’s cheering still ringing in her ears. As she stepped off the ice, she took one last look at the center of the ice and smiled. She could still see the circles that she had scraped into the ice during her spins and twirls, and the ice chunks that had been uprooted by her blades. I’ll never forget this moment for as long as I live. Mei-Li thought happily as she pushed the door to the dressing room open.

memory

Anne Tam
Mrs. W. Gortney
Creative Writing – 3rd hour
7 February 1010
Escaping the Trouble
It was a nice summer day in the fifth grade, the birds chirping, the sun shining; everything was great. All except… report cards were due that day, and I had forgotten mine yet again. In elementary school, we all had to get our report cards signed within a week, or no credit would be received. The first couple days I had forgotten to get it signed, and I always mentally reminded myself to get it signed that night, but for a week straight I had forgotten to get that signature and the due date had finally approached.
I wriggled back and forth uncomfortably in my seat as the teacher announced that she would be coming around to check in report cards. I could feel my heart racing and my palms sweating as I waited for the dreaded moment of my teacher arriving at my table to check in my signature, and me telling her I had forgotten even after she gave us a week. As I watched the other students around me pulling their report cards out of their backpacks, I suddenly had an idea. Reaching into my backpack and then into my pencil case, I quickly pulled out a black ballpoint pen. Jamming the pen into my pocket, I also found my report card, folded it in half, and stuck it under my shirt. I jumped up from my seat and ran over to the teacher. “Miss Lacey, may I go to the bathroom?” I asked, politely. My teacher nodded, and I took off.
I ran into the bathroom, taking notice that no one was there. Letting out a sigh of relief, I quickly walked into one of the stalls. My heart was pounding with adrenaline and excitement as I pulled the report card out from under my shirt and the pen from my pocket. I pressed the report card up against the cold side wall of the stall, lifted my pen, and before I could think about what I was doing, I quickly scribbled my mom’s signature above the “Parent/Guardian Signature” line. As I finished the last mark on my mother’s signature, I put the pen back into my pocket and took a step back to admire my work. Not bad. I told myself as a smile crept onto my face. To pretend that I had actually used the toilet, I flushed before shoving the report card back under my shirt and leaving the bathroom.
Making my way back into the classroom, I scanned the classroom for my teacher’s whereabouts. As I spotted her a couple feet away from where my desk sat, I briskly walked over to my desk and sat down. Looking around, I made sure that no one was watching before quickly pulling out the report card out from under my shirt. Unfolding it, I placed it on my desk, sat back in my chair and relaxed as I waited for the teacher to reach me. A couple minutes later, the teacher was standing in front of me checking in my report card. I held my breath as I watched the teacher’s eyes scan over the signature, every second seeming like an hour. I’m going to get caught. I thought silently to myself, as fear started to rise within me. However, the teacher just smiled, said “Good. Thank you.”, and walked on to the next desk.
I sat still for a couple seconds, as if not fully comprehending that I had gotten away with forging my mother’s signature. As the fear within me started to mitigate, I felt another smile creep onto my face. Putting my head down, I laughed silently, still not believing I had gotten away with such a thing.

second evidence report

Evidence Report

Name : Anne Tam Shift : 5

Evidence inspected : Long Bone Case# : 012110


On the second day of crime scenes, I was in charge of the long bone. In this scene, I found the long bone evidence on the back table by the far wall; by the mandible and the pelvis. When the long bone was found, we had to collect it carefully because it was a large piece of evidence. I collected the long bone in our group. When I collected the long bone, I had to make sure I had gloves on, to insure that I did not leave any fingerprints or marks on the evidence, which would make me a suspect as well if my prints were all over the evidence. When the evidence was collected, I placed the long bone into a paper bag, not a plastic bag because the plastic bag could mold and be distorted and the evidence would be destroyed. After placing the long bone into a paper bag, I taped the ends closed with the red evidence tape, making sure it was sealed completely. When that was done, I wrote my initials, location, and time on the front of the paper bag with a black pen. Finally, I gave the paper bag with the long bone inside to my lead investigator, Stacey Klonowski.

When the long bone is found in a crime scene, it is usually collected after all the pictures, sketches, and notes are taken. Having to be careful with it, the long bone is usually collected carefully; using gloves to make sure your fingerprints do not get onto the bone, therefore contaminating the evidence. When the long bone is collected, it is brought back to the lab for the scientists to look at. After the pelvis, the long bone is the second best bone to use to determine the height and sex of the skeleton. Although the long bone is not as trusted as the pelvis, it is still a good piece of evidence to figure out a lot of things about your skeleton or victim. By measuring the long bone, you can use a series of formulas to figure out if the victim is a female or male. Not only can you find out the sex of the skeleton using the long bone, you can also figure out the age range in which the victim is in. During the age group of 6-25 years old, the long bone is the best bone to use to figure out the age. This is because during these years, epiphyseal fusion is happening in the long bones, meaning that the shaft and the end of the bone is starting to fuse together. In the stages before ages 6, the epiphyseal fusion has not yet started to fuse yet, showing the skeleton is under 6 years old. But if the fusion has already finished, that shows that the skeleton is over 25 years old. From this second crime scene, I have found out that the long bone that was collected belonged to an older (fifties) Negroid male. I know this because the epiphyseal fusion has already been completed; the bones are all fused together. I know the bone was male because using the formula to find out if the bone was in the male group or female group, the answer turned out to be a male long bone. I know the long bone was from a Negroid because upon examination, it was seen that the long bone was straighter. Caucasoid and Mongaloid long bones show a more forward curvature, and therefore proves that the long bone found was that of a Negroid male.

first evidence report

Evidence Report

Name : Anne Tam Shift : 5

Evidence inspected: Hair Case# : 012010


On the first day of the crime scenes, I was in charge of hair. In this crime scene, I found the hair on the bottom drawer of the desk. There was a chair that was toppled over right next to the desk, making it seem as if though the victim had fallen off the chair and had hit her head on the desk drawer. When the hair was found, we had our lead investigator, Korey Streck, collect the hair and place it into an envelope; sealing it shut with evidence tape and writing his initials, the location, and time on the front of the envelope. When Korey was collecting the hair, he wore gloves so he would not contaminate the evidence with his fingerprints or anything that could be left on the hair from his hands. Usually the evidence would be given to the lead investigator; however, Korey was already the lead investigator. He had to collect the rest of the evidence from the rest of the group, place it into the evidence bag, and seal it before turning it in.

When hair is found in a crime scene, the hair is usually collected with patience and care. Always make sure you have gloves on or have a pair of forceps before handling the evidence because you could contaminate it; leaving traces of you on the evidence. When hair is collected, it is brought to the lab for the scientists to examine. Under powerful microscopes, the scientists first look for the medulla; the center of the hair, to determine what origin the hair is from; human or animal. If the medulla index is less than 1/3, then it is human. If the medulla index is greater than ½, then it is animal. To find the medullary index, one must measure the diameter of the medulla and divide it by the diameter of the hair. Based off of the medulla (if human), the hair shaft, the cross sectional shape, and the pigment granules can tell the scientist what race the hair came from; Caucasoid, Mongaloid, or Negroid. Not only can hair tell you what race the hair came from, it can also tell you where on the body it came from. All the hair on a person’s body is different in their own ways, whether it is darker or lighter, thinner or thicker. For example, you can tell when a hair is pubic hair because it is stiff textured and very wiry. Also, pubic hair shows buckling. Compared to limb hair, which is very soft in texture, it is obvious to a scientist under a microscope where the hair evidence originated from. Though hair is usually considered to be class evidence, it can also be considered individual evidence if the hair has DNA on the end of it. Usually when a struggle occurs in the crime scene and hair is left behind, the end of the hair has DNA on it; and that is because of the root and follicle. The root contains nuclear DNA, and that DNA can help scientists figure out who the suspect is. Anyway, after testing the hair for race and ownership, we have concluded that the hair is from a young, mid-twenty, Caucasoid female. The lab figured this out because at the end of a couple hairs, there were some part of the root still attached, showing that there had been some sign of a struggle. After we ran a couple more tests and look under a microscope to view the medulla and calculate the medullary index, the origin of the hair is now clear; it belonged to the sister of Cherry Pitts; Peach Pitts. And because of the sign of struggle through the hair, we have concluded that Peach Pitts has most likely been kidnapped. Though the end of this case is not closer, we as forensic investigators will find out what has happened to Peach Pitts and solve this case!

changes we have made

The Changes We Have Made
¬Beep! Beep! Beep! My cell phone rings and vibrates as I receive an incoming text, the screen displaying the words “1 new message”. Without looking up from my textbook, I reached around the clutters of paper and random items that almost engulfed my small desk. As I blindly searched my desk, my hand finally felt the smooth exterior of my Samsung Behold. My fingers flew rapidly over the buttons as I responded to the text message, and within a couple seconds, I had texted out a whole paragraph. Hitting the send button, I dropped my phone into my pocket and returned to my textbook. However, not long after I started reading again, my stomach let out a loud, low-pitched growl, reminding me of my increasing hunger. Sighing loudly, I had no choice but to leave my studies and attempt to find food in my always empty fridge.
As I descended down the stairs, I could hear the quiet humming of the fridge coming from the brightly lit kitchen as if calling me. I pushed open the door that led to the kitchen and walked briskly to my fridge. Giving my fridge door a hard tug, the light from inside quickly slipped through, as if trying to escape. However, the emptiness of the fridge only made me sigh loudly in defeat and mutter, “That’s what I thought.” Not wanting to search the house for food, I started to go back upstairs but was stopped by a soft ringing on the other side of the kitchen. Turning my head slightly to see what the ringing was, my eyes landed on the large, black rotary phone hanging on the kitchen wall. It had been a long time since anyone had called the landline and almost everyone in the house had forgotten about it due to the fact we all had cell phones.
Almost as if the soft ringing had put me in a hypnotic spell, I slowly stepped off the stairs and made my way over to the phone. However, by the time I reached the other side of the kitchen, the ringing had already stopped. I stood in front of the phone for a couple minutes, as if entranced by its old-fashioned spinning dial. Slowly reaching my hand out, I touched the cold, hard, black plastic, wiping away the thin layer of dust that had covered most of the phone. My index finger found its way into one of the small holes used for dialing and I slowly twirled the dial, listening to the loud clicking sound it made. Suddenly, a flashback of when I was a kid entered my head. I could see a five-year-old me standing on tippy toes atop of a small, brown stool with my fingers in the little holes, trying to figure out how to use the rotary phone. Coming out of the flashback, I felt a small smile creep onto my face as I remembered how much I had loved playing with the old phone and its spinning dial.
Reaching down into my pocket, I pulled out my touch screen cell phone, the lime green case shining brightly under the well lit kitchen. I rubbed my thumb across the smooth, shiny screen, admiring its sleekness. Gripping the phone tightly in my right hand, I looked back up at the rotary phone hanging on the wall. Once again, I reached up and touched the dial, imagining what it would be like if there were no cell phones, and everyone carried around big, wireless rotary phones. A quiet chuckle escaped my lips as the thought of everyone texting with the old-fashioned phone crossed my mind. Pressing the unlock button on my cell phone, I looked down at the buttons, admiring the touch screen technology while murmuring, “Technology has really come a long way…” With one last look at the old rotary phone, I spun on my heels and made my way back upstairs into my room.
Plopping back down into my hard, plastic chair, I could feel vibrations coming from inside my pocket as another text arrived. As I grabbed my phone, the thought of having to use a rotary phone for texting made me really appreciate the technology I have. Instead of my fingers flying over the touch screen, my fingers would be inserting into the small holes meant for dialing; [and instead of being able to text out a paragraph in a matter of a couple seconds, it would probably take around an hour or so.] Shaking the distracting thoughts from my head, I leaned back over my textbook and went back to studying.

reflective analysis

20035279 #29
Mrs. M. Turner
Advanced Composition A – 3rd hour
15 January 2010
Reflective Analysis
The topic for this polished piece was a topic from a journal entry. The topic was to write about what would happen if there were no adults or authorities at school. Even while writing the journal essay, I could already tell I would do this topic for my next polished piece because it would be fun to write about what students would do if there were no adults or authorities. I started this piece by putting myself into that position, and trying to imagine what everyone would do. Of course the first thing I thought of was the use of cell phones, and so I incorporated that students were pulling out their cell phones as soon as they heard there were no adults in the building. As I did that, the ideas started flowing and soon I had written my piece.
I felt like this piece was one of my better pieces because there were many details describing the environment and the mood of the classroom and school. Having many details makes the reader be able to picture themselves in the situation and see it the way I was seeing it as I was writing the paper. Also, there were very little being verbs in the paragraphs, making the piece stronger. Although some of the things I could have worked on in this polished piece were to make the opening paragraph clearer. One of my peer editors told me that I should not have described the outside life after I walked inside, and if I were to describe the outside, I should still be walking outside. However, my other two peer editors told me that it was clear enough, and I should not have to change anything. Because it was two over one, I did not change the opening paragraph.
As my piece progressed, I read over my paper at least 20 times, filling in areas that seemed empty and boring with details and descriptions. In my journal, I had rushed to write this entry, making the piece sound bland and boring, with hardly any details. But as I continued to work on my piece, I became more engaged in the piece, and started adding more and more details to it until it became the piece it is now. The initial idea of this piece came from a journal entry that Mrs. Turner gave us. As soon as I heard about the entry, I knew right away it would be something I could write about in my next polished piece, and I was right; it became one of the easiest and more fun pieces of write about. Because there would never be no authorities at school, the thought of it makes every student excited and all hoping it would happen. That is why this topic made such a good paper.
Overall, this was one of the most enjoyable and fun papers that I have ever written. Though there are some things I felt like I should have worked on more, I am proud of the way this paper turned out. I know almost every student in the world can relate to this because we all would be excited to have no authorities at school just for a day. I am really glad I had this topic to write about 

asdfasfdsdf

20035279 #29
Mrs. M. Turner
Advanced Composition A – 3rd Hour
10 December 2009
If Only, If Only
I dragged my semi-conscious body through the heavy, gray school doors of Plymouth High school, the wind slamming them shut behind me. Though inside, I could still hear the wind howling violently, causing the trees to wave their arms around wildly. Any signs of nature seemed like a distant memory as the snow covered most of the ground, hiding what was left of the grass. Proceeding to class, I took notice that teacher and security guard that usually stood outside the office were not there today. Not thinking much of the absent teachers, I continued down C- pod and made it into my classroom just as the bell rung for class to start.
Dropping my belongings along the right side of my desk, I took a seat in my chair and reached into my bag for my math folder. After rummaging around in my bag for a couple seconds, my hand finally felt the smooth surface of my math folder. My fingers closed around the folder, and with a small tug, the folder slid free. I found the homework from last night and placed it onto my desk. Looking up, I took notice that the teacher had not yet entered the room. Strange… I thought, curiously. He’s usually always here before any of us... So where is he?
Looking around, I could see that I was not the only one who had noticed our teacher’s absence. Many of my classmates had started conversations about the absent teacher, letting their imaginations run free. I could hear stories ranging from being abducted and taken hostage by aliens to winning the lottery and quitting the school teacher job. Seconds passed quickly, soon turning into minutes, five minutes to ten minutes, ten to fifteen, yet the teacher still had not arrived. One of my classmates had decided to take action and go next door to try to find out where our teacher had gone. A couple minutes later, he returned with a puzzled look on his face. My class went silent as he started to speak. “The teacher next door isn’t there either… and neither are any of the teachers or staff in the entire building…”
As the realization of no teachers or adults hit my class, a frenzy erupted. Loud, excited talking and scraping chairs echoed off the walls of the small classroom, making everything seem ten times louder. Everybody reached into their bags, pulled out their cell phones, and called their parents to deliver the news. The halls soon started to fill up with students exiting the building, deciding to return home because of the absence of the teachers. I had already called my dad and informed him of the situation at school, and he would soon arrive to pick me up. Packing my belongings, I looked down at my phone to see an incoming text from my dad, informing me that he had arrived. With one last glance at my classroom, I exited the building just as hundreds of other students had done a couple minutes before.
I bolted upright in bed and looked over at my clock. It read “6:06 a.m”. Sighing, I lay back in bed and thought about the dream I just had. That would be so amazing if that really happened. I thought, a small smile creeping onto my face. As I got up to get ready for school, the thought of my dream still lingered in my mind. Arriving at the school and swinging the open the heavy, gray doors, I passed the office and took notice that the security guard and teacher that usually stood there were not there today…

civitan essay

20035279 #29
Mrs. M. Turner
Advanced Composition A - Third Hour
7 January 2010
Civitan Essay
What is the difference between snail mail and an email? Almost automatically, everyone would say that email is a lot faster than snail mail. All email would require is the tapping of a couple buttons on a desktop or laptop, a quick click of a “send” button, and the message would shoot off into the enormous internet network. However, snail mail would require the use of writing out the entire message, the retrieval of an envelope and stamp, and a couple weeks of waiting for the letter to be delivered to the intended person. Technology has majorly improved and changed the world just in the last decade. The invention of video game systems, cell phones, portable electronics, and so on, have largely impacted the world and has made almost everything easier to do and accomplish. However, many people have started taking this new technology for granted, and not appreciating the actual reason and use of the object.

One of the greatest changes in technology history is the invention of laptops. Before the invention of laptops, people were confined to their computer desk and desktop when they had things to accomplish, but as the first laptop was invented and now improved, it has made all the impact on everyone in the world. It is now easy to transport your documents from one place to another with just the click of a couple buttons. When the first laptop was invented, it was a big piece of plastic, however, as the decades progressed, laptops itself started to become more and more improved. There are no longer any large or chunky laptops, but now there are laptops that are less than an inch thick. As the decades passed on, the technology for laptops have gotten better and better.

Another great change in technology over the years that has helped improved the life of many people is the cell phone. Like the laptop, the cell phone had been invented more than a couple decades ago and had started out being a big block of plastic. In the last ten years, the changes in cell phones have become phenomenal. People are no longer using the big black blocks that could not fit in pockets, but have now upgraded to small, thin phones, and touch screens. More and more often now, I have noticed almost all my friends have touch screen phones. A decade or two back, we would never have thought of small, thin phones, much less touch screen phones. The change in technology is sometimes scary to think about.
Although there are many electronics and technology related items that have been invented in the past decade, there are also many items that have just been improved. Back when I was about six years old, I remember when the Nintendo 64 had just been invented. The Nintendo was all the rage, and almost every kid I knew had it in their homes. Only a decade later, the Nintendo 64 is now out of date and considered “uncool.” What is all the rage now is the PS3, XBOX 360, and the most new one, the Wii. How in only ten years can the coolest technology turn into something uncool? I know without a doubt that the three most talked about game systems are not the last, for in the future, maybe even in the next decade, more advanced game systems will come out, and make the Wii seem old and out of date.

Without a doubt in the next decade of so, there will be many new changes in the everyday life of an American. Although there are many people who would consider the change in technology to be bad, I would consider the change to be good and helpful to the world. The use of cell phones, laptops, and entertainment has served the world many purposes, and I know that in the future there will continue to be new electronics that will continue to serve the world and help improve and make easy the life of an everyday American and everyone else in the world that uses everyday technology.

20035279 #29
Mrs. M. Turner
Advanced Composition A - 3rd hour
10 December 2009
Insert Title Here
I dragged my semi-conscious body through the heavy, gray school doors, the wind slamming them shut behind me. Though inside, I could still hear the wind howling violently, causing the trees to wave their arms around wildly. Any signs of nature life seemed like a distant memory as the snow covered most of the ground, hiding what was left of the grass. As I proceeded to head to class, I noticed the teacher and security guard that usually stood outside the office were not there today. Not thinking much of the absent teachers, I continued down to C pod and made it into my classroom just as the bell sounded for class to start.
Plopping my belongings right along the edge of my desk, I took a seat in my chair and reached into my bag for my math folder. After rummaging around in my bag for a couple seconds, my hand finally connected with the smooth surface of my math folder. My fingers closed around the folder and with a small tug the folder slid free. As I found the homework from last night and placed it onto my desk, I look up, taking notice that the teacher had not yet entered the room. Strange… I thought, curiously. He’s usually always here before any of us are… So where is he?
Looking around, I could see that I was not the only one who had taken notice that our teacher was absent. Many of my classmates had started up conversations about the absent teacher, letting their imagination run free. I could hear stories ranging from being abducted and taken hostage by aliens to Seconds passed quickly soon turning into minutes, five minutes to ten minutes, ten to fifteen, yet the teacher still had not arrived. One of my classmates had decided to take action and go next door to try to find out where our teacher had gone. A couple minutes later, he returned with a puzzled look on his face. My class went silent as he started to speak; “The teacher next door isn’t there either… and neither are any of the teachers or staff in the building…”
As the realization of no teachers or adults hit my class, a frenzy erupted. Loud excited talking and scraping chairs echoed off the walls of the small classroom, making everything seem ten times louder. Kids were reaching into their bags, pulling out their cell phones, and calling their parents to deliver the news. The halls soon started to fill up with students exiting the building, deciding to return home because of no teachers. I had already called my dad and informed him of the situation at school, and he would soon be there to pick me up. Packing up my belongings, I looked down at my phone to see a call coming from my dad, notifying me that he had arrived. With one last glance at my classroom, I exited the building just as hundreds of other students had done a couple minutes before…
I bolted up in bed and quickly looked over at my clock. It read “6:05 a.m.” Sighing, I laid back in bed and thought about the dream I just had. That would be so amazing if that really happened, I thought, a small smile creeping on my face. As I got up to get ready for school, the thought of my dream still lingered in my mind. Arriving at the school and swinging open the heavy, gray doors, I passed the office and took notice that the security guard and teacher that usually stood there were not there today…

DONEEEE

2003279 #29
Mrs. M. Turner
Advanced Composition A
5 December 2009
Make a Difference
A couple tears shed, a comforting touch, and a smile here and there. My anger and sadness mitigated as I watched his face intently listening to me rant on and on about my problem. I knew I would always have him to turn to whenever anything went wrong, and that itself meant the world. Everyone has someone they admire and look up to, whether it a friend, a family member, or anyone else in their life. Although there are many people in my life have influenced me to become the person I am today, I give my friend, Marvic Malabanan, the most credit. Though most adolescents would look up to their family and parents as role models, I have always looked up to the honest, helpful, and modest friend that I have known for almost my entire life. He and I have spent most of our lives together, and it is because of this very reason that I can say that I know Marvic’s personality and his greatest assets and qualities almost as well as I know the back of my hand.
Though Marvic has unlimited great qualities, the fact that he is a great listener and will listen to any problem or situation in anyone’s life is one of the most favorable. In an instant without hesitation, Marvic will listen to and give feedback about any situation without being biased. These days, I have found it hard for anyone not to judge in a situation, and because Marvic can resist being biased, it makes it easier for anyone to talk to him. Personally, I have spent many hours with Marvic talking about everything; from school to college to boyfriends and much more, all of which included plenty of feedback and encouragement. Without a doubt, I can honestly call Marvic the most sincere and honest person I know.
I emphatically appreciate Marvic's honesty and trustworthiness as other qualities I see in him. Never before have I known Marvic to lie about anything or to anyone. Although sometimes the truth can hurt, Marvic always finds a way around the harsh and painful words, and delivers the bad news as gently as possible. Secrets and private information are also something’s I would never regret or doubt trusting him with. When he gives word that the private information will never make it to anyone else’s ears, any further questioning subsides. Honesty and trustworthiness is a quality of Marvic’s that I completely admire.
Out of all the people in my life, Marvic is among the greatest and strongest people that I have met, and I am very grateful for his presence. Being friends with Marvic helps me to become a better person inside and out. Though he also has weaknesses, his strengths overpower any disparagements about him. Admiring his strengths and even weaknesses, I someday hope to become more like the friend that I have known for almost my entire life, in high hopes that people will see some of Marvic’s qualities in myself.

  Describe a close friend.  What do you respect or admire about this person, and why?  What do you think your friendship with this person says about you?  **(Ohio State, 2008) **

marvic malabanan :D

2003279 #29
Mrs. M. Turner
Advanced Composition A
5 December 2009 ¬
Make a Difference

First paragraph!
Although many people in my life have influenced me to become the person I am today, I give my friend, Marvic Malabanan, the most credit. Though most adolescents would look up to their family and parents as role models, I have always looked up to the honest, helpful, and modest friend that I have known for almost my entire life. (INSERT “BEING CLOSEST FRIENDS HERE”). It is because of this very reason that I can say that I know Marvic’s personality and his greatest assets and qualities almost as well as I know the back of my hand. (……………)
Though Marvic has unlimited great qualities, the fact that he is a great listener and will listen to any problem or situation in anyone’s life is one of the most favorable. In an instant without hesitation, Marvic will listen to and give feedback about a situation without being biased. These days, I have found it hard for anyone not to judge in a situation, and because Marvic can resist being biased, it makes it easier for anyone to tell him their problems. (anything, something, … etc?). Personally, I have spent many hours with Marvic talking about life, __________________________________________________.

John Fiorenza

Honorable Johnathan Mathis
17th Round Table
Federal Building
54862 Main Street
Tallahassee, Florida
October 27, 1936

Anne Tam
5th hour
Sentencing Letter

Dear Judge Mathis,
Recently, there has been a case that has been all the talk at my office. The jury has decided to prosecute John Fiorenza, in the murder of Nancy Titterton. I would like to ask you for a sentence suited for Mr. Fiorenza.

On Good Friday, 1936, two furniture men that were returning a couch that had been under repair, climbed the stairs to the Titterton's fourth-floor apartment. When they found the front door ajar, one of the furniture men, Theodore Kruger, called out into the home. When he got no response, his partner and he cautiously made their way into the small apartment. Inside, they saw one of the beds showed signs of disorder, a disheveled bedspread, and clothing was strewn carelessly on the floor. When they saw a light in the bathroom, Kruger slowly opened the door to reveal Nancy Titerton lying face down in an empty bath. Nancy was nude except for her rolled-down stockings. It appeared she had been st ranged with her own pajama jacket.

As the inspection went on for the murderer, Chief Inspector John Lyons became more and more puzzled. Everything pointed to this murder being a planned one, however, the killer had brought the cord with him and taken it away. Nancy Titterton was a timid woman, and would most likely not admit a stranger into the apartment, so either the killer had broken in or she knew him.

After careful inspection, a strand of stiff white hair that was barely half an inch long was found on a stitch of the bedspread. Under a microscope, it was found to be horsehair, of the type used for stuffing furniture. When Lyons obtained a sample of horsehair from the couch being repaired, he found them to be identical. Under more research, Lyon found it to be from one of the repair men.

Lyon visited Kruger at his upholstery shop. Upon further interrogation, Lyon found out that Fiorenza had been late to work on Good Friday. When pushed for more, Kruger admitted that Fiorenza had a checkered past, also, when they looked through his records, they found he had been diagnosed as delusional and prone to wild fantasies.

Lyon later found the evidence he was looking for on April 17: the piece of twine found beneath Nancy Titterton's body. When Fiorenza was brought in for questioning, he finally confessed to killing Nancy because she had refused to have intercourse with him.

In closing, i would like to point out that John Fiorenza is a delusional murderer. Although his crime consisted of only one murder so far, we believe that Fiorenza would continue to kill if agitated, and should be either put into prison for life, or given the death sentence. Such an act must be brought to justice.

Sincerely,
Anne Tam
State Prosecutor

college essay

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.

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.

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.

chu.

Closing Statement

Anne Tam
5th hour
October 15, 2009

The Nightstalker

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury:

The criminal has finally been caught. Though i would like to say that catching this criminal has been an easy task, i cannot. It has taken over a year to finally bring this criminal to justice, and many lives have been lost along the way.

Looking across the room, i can see Richard Ramirez sitting calmly in his seat as he waits for the decision of the court. Although the terrifying Nightstalker has finally been caught, the fear he instilled in some of his surviving victims are obviously still there. The first time that The Nightstalker struck was in June 1984 in Los Angeles, California, and his first victim was a young woman who was stabbed to death in her own home. Now imagine how terrifying that would be? You think of your home as a safe haven, a place to relax, but if you left your window open, you could most likely become the next victim of The Nightstalker.

Now lets look at the "pattern" that Mr. Ramirez followed. The murders always followed a set pattern, often happening in the early hours of the morning, and most likely when a window was open. The Nightstalker would first cut the phone lines before entering the house and shooting any adult males he saw in the head. All his female victims were raped, often next to the bodies of their dead partners. Again, imagine how the females felt as they were being sexually assaulted next to a friend or maybe even their husbands or fiances. Not only did he rape and kill his victims, he also made them "swear upon Satan" at the murder.

Even now as i look at Richard Ramirez, he shows no sympathy or compassion for his victims. Sitting there with such a calm look on his face as if he did nothing wrong infuriates me. How is it humanly possible for someone to kill so many people without feeling a strip of sympathy? It seems impossible, however, as i sit here staring at the murderer, i can now see how it is possible for the notorious Nightstalker.

Now let's look at the clues and evidence that led to the capture of this murderer. In August 1985 in Mission Viejo, a young couple was attacked at home. Following his "pattern", the Nightstalker first shot the male through the head before raping the female. Although the female was terrified, she managed to memorize the license plate number of the killer's old orange Toyota as he drove off. The car was then found out to be stolen in Chinatown while the owner was eating in a restaurant. Though police officers watched the car around the clock in case the killer returned, he did not, and it forced that officers to remove the car for forensic examination. Good idea because experts managed to lift a partial fingerprint.

After locating the fingerprint, the fingerprint was scanned across a computerized fingerprint database system installed by the LAPD in 1985.

forensic files

Closing Statement

Anne Tam
5th hour
October 15, 2009

The Nightstalker

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury:

The criminal has finally been caught. Though i would like to say that catching this criminal has been an easy task, i cannot. It has taken over a year to finally bring this criminal to justice, and many lives have been lost along the way.

Looking across the room, i can see Richard Ramirez sitting calmly in his seat as he waits for the decision of the court. Although the terrifying Nightstalker has finally been caught, the fear he instilled in some of his surviving victims are obviously still there. The first time that The Nightstalker struck was in June 1984 in Los Angeles, California, and his first victim was a young woman who was stabbed to death in her own home. Now imagine how terrifying that would be? You think of your home as a safe haven, a place to relax, but if you left your window open, you could most likely become the next victim of The Nightstalker.

Now lets look at the "pattern" that Mr. Ramirez followed. The murders always followed a set pattern, often happening in the early hours of the morning, and most likely when a window was open. The Nightstalker would first cut the phone lines before entering the house and shooting any adult males he saw in the head. All his female victims were raped, often next to the bodies of their dead partners. Again, imagine how the females felt as they were being sexually assaulted next to a friend or maybe even their husbands or fiances.