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
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
turning point essay
20035279 #29
Mrs. M. Turner
Advanced Composition A – Third Hour
14 October 2009
A Lesson Learned
There comes a time in everyone's life when they realize they need a change from their everyday lifestyle. Either it is because they do not enjoy it, or because they know they are going down the wrong fork in the road and recognizes that change is needed immediately. Although a turning point in anyone's life could be unexpected or sudden, and can even be traumatic or heinous, a turning point is when your life suddenly takes a different turn in events whether you like it or not.
On the first day of high school, I remember how excited I was to finally be leaving middle school and going to the largely talked about PCEP. Riding the bus with my best friend of two years, Trisha, we talked about all the things we could and would do now that we were in high school. We both wanted to join many clubs and sports and be as active as we could so our transcript would look good for college. Although most of her classes were located in Salem, and mine in Plymouth, we still promised to eat lunch together and meet up in between classes whenever we possibly could. The first couple days of lunch, it was only Trisha and me. However, as school progressed, we both made more and more friends and our lunch group grew. At first, I was overjoyed that Trisha was talking to people and making friends because in middle school, she was shy and did not talk much, but as the days passed, I started seeing changes in Trisha; and it was not the good kind.
As school continued and seasons changed, so did Trisha's personality. No longer was she the shy, quiet girl that sat by herself in a classroom, she now was the loud and obnoxious girl that people shot glares at. Although I hugely disliked the change, I did not say anything to Trisha, for she might get mad and I would lose my best friend to the numerous group of friends she had made this year. Because of my fear of losing Trisha, I always kept quiet about everything even when I knew she was doing something wrong. Despite my attempts to keep our relationship the same as it was in middle school, I could see that was now nearly impossible.
As time went on, our relationship got more and more strained, until we hardly even hung out outside school anymore. Then came one day when we were riding the bus, Trisha asked me to come over later. I was so excited, for we had not hung out in what seemed like forever. Happily, I told her that I would be over as soon as my homework was completed. Excited as I was, I still managed to complete my homework quickly. The minute I finished, I headed next door to Trisha’s house and knocked on the door. Trisha answered the door after a couple knocks and let me in, but as soon as I stepped into the house, I could smell a strange aroma in the air; it was like something I had never smelled before. Shaking off the strange feeling I was getting, I followed my best friend down to her basement, where she quickly closed the door behind me.
Down in her basement, I could see we were not alone; all her new friends from lunch were there. As I waved to them, something white in one of the girls’ hands caught my eye, and it suddenly hit me what the strange smell was; marijuana. Turning around abruptly to my best friend standing behind me, I could see she was no longer there, but was on the couch smoking with the rest of the group. I stood in shock as I watched the girl who used to be my best friend smoke pot like it was an acceptable thing to do. Shooting them all a disgusted look, I briskly walked up the stairs and out of the house as my best friend shouted behind me to come back.
From then on, Trisha only continued to change more. Her grades dropped drastically, and she started hiding out in the school bathrooms to skip class, and even convinced me a couple times to skip with her. For a while, I did not think about the consequences of getting caught skipping, but that all changed one day while we were skipping together in the Salem bathrooms. A loud booming voice suddenly penetrated the silence of the bathroom, telling us to both come out. My heart pounded against my chest, as if trying to jump out. Although the only consequences were a phone call home and an after school detention, I felt that was the last straw. It suddenly hit me that it did not matter how long we were friends or how good of friends we happened to be; it was not worth losing my parents’ trust and messing up my high school record in freshmen year all because of a bad influence. That day forward whenever Trisha talked to me or asked me to come over, I answered her bluntly, showing her I had no interest in friends any longer. Though it was sad to end such a good friendship, I instantly felt relieved that I was free of her. There would be no more bad influences.
Although the road to the turning point in my life was not very pleasant, the outcome and result of it made me more proud of myself then ever. I had given up a friend because of the bad choices and decisions she had made once she got to high school. During the couple of months this all happened, I learned a life lesson; always make my own decisions based on what I think is right or wrong regardless of the peer pressure and bad decisions that sometimes comes along with friends. Though I am ashamed of some of the things that happened while I was friends with Trisha, I do not regret my friendship with her, for it taught me many lessons that I would forever hold with me.
Mrs. M. Turner
Advanced Composition A – Third Hour
14 October 2009
A Lesson Learned
There comes a time in everyone's life when they realize they need a change from their everyday lifestyle. Either it is because they do not enjoy it, or because they know they are going down the wrong fork in the road and recognizes that change is needed immediately. Although a turning point in anyone's life could be unexpected or sudden, and can even be traumatic or heinous, a turning point is when your life suddenly takes a different turn in events whether you like it or not.
On the first day of high school, I remember how excited I was to finally be leaving middle school and going to the largely talked about PCEP. Riding the bus with my best friend of two years, Trisha, we talked about all the things we could and would do now that we were in high school. We both wanted to join many clubs and sports and be as active as we could so our transcript would look good for college. Although most of her classes were located in Salem, and mine in Plymouth, we still promised to eat lunch together and meet up in between classes whenever we possibly could. The first couple days of lunch, it was only Trisha and me. However, as school progressed, we both made more and more friends and our lunch group grew. At first, I was overjoyed that Trisha was talking to people and making friends because in middle school, she was shy and did not talk much, but as the days passed, I started seeing changes in Trisha; and it was not the good kind.
As school continued and seasons changed, so did Trisha's personality. No longer was she the shy, quiet girl that sat by herself in a classroom, she now was the loud and obnoxious girl that people shot glares at. Although I hugely disliked the change, I did not say anything to Trisha, for she might get mad and I would lose my best friend to the numerous group of friends she had made this year. Because of my fear of losing Trisha, I always kept quiet about everything even when I knew she was doing something wrong. Despite my attempts to keep our relationship the same as it was in middle school, I could see that was now nearly impossible.
As time went on, our relationship got more and more strained, until we hardly even hung out outside school anymore. Then came one day when we were riding the bus, Trisha asked me to come over later. I was so excited, for we had not hung out in what seemed like forever. Happily, I told her that I would be over as soon as my homework was completed. Excited as I was, I still managed to complete my homework quickly. The minute I finished, I headed next door to Trisha’s house and knocked on the door. Trisha answered the door after a couple knocks and let me in, but as soon as I stepped into the house, I could smell a strange aroma in the air; it was like something I had never smelled before. Shaking off the strange feeling I was getting, I followed my best friend down to her basement, where she quickly closed the door behind me.
Down in her basement, I could see we were not alone; all her new friends from lunch were there. As I waved to them, something white in one of the girls’ hands caught my eye, and it suddenly hit me what the strange smell was; marijuana. Turning around abruptly to my best friend standing behind me, I could see she was no longer there, but was on the couch smoking with the rest of the group. I stood in shock as I watched the girl who used to be my best friend smoke pot like it was an acceptable thing to do. Shooting them all a disgusted look, I briskly walked up the stairs and out of the house as my best friend shouted behind me to come back.
From then on, Trisha only continued to change more. Her grades dropped drastically, and she started hiding out in the school bathrooms to skip class, and even convinced me a couple times to skip with her. For a while, I did not think about the consequences of getting caught skipping, but that all changed one day while we were skipping together in the Salem bathrooms. A loud booming voice suddenly penetrated the silence of the bathroom, telling us to both come out. My heart pounded against my chest, as if trying to jump out. Although the only consequences were a phone call home and an after school detention, I felt that was the last straw. It suddenly hit me that it did not matter how long we were friends or how good of friends we happened to be; it was not worth losing my parents’ trust and messing up my high school record in freshmen year all because of a bad influence. That day forward whenever Trisha talked to me or asked me to come over, I answered her bluntly, showing her I had no interest in friends any longer. Though it was sad to end such a good friendship, I instantly felt relieved that I was free of her. There would be no more bad influences.
Although the road to the turning point in my life was not very pleasant, the outcome and result of it made me more proud of myself then ever. I had given up a friend because of the bad choices and decisions she had made once she got to high school. During the couple of months this all happened, I learned a life lesson; always make my own decisions based on what I think is right or wrong regardless of the peer pressure and bad decisions that sometimes comes along with friends. Though I am ashamed of some of the things that happened while I was friends with Trisha, I do not regret my friendship with her, for it taught me many lessons that I would forever hold with me.
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