English 10: Writing Portfolio
Catholic Memorial High School
|I was rummaging through my attic
when I found this strange object, a blacked out painting. This
mysterious object was plain with no text or objects, just completely blacked out. It must have been
Twenty years older or more because the golden frame around it was broken and seemed almost ancient.
The back of the canvas is also black with nothing on it. I asked both of my parents, and neither
had any idea what this weird object was. I was obsessed with finding out the truth behind this
strange object; I had some research to do.
After weeks turned to months, I still knew nothing about this object until one cloudy Saturday afternoon. I was bored so I just held the delicate object. Then all of the sudden I realized that the back of the painting was peeling and revealed text underneath. I stared dumbfounded at the text; it wasn’t even in my language. I sat there frustrated, realizing I probably would never find the truth. My Grandmother Catherine walked upstairs to see me holding it, looking somewhat depressed. She asked if I needed help and said “No, thanks anyway.” She snatched the painting and began skimming the back as if she knew what is said. She stared in horror at the painting I had once obsessed over. Then she explained this terrifying story that was in the early 1800’s.
She describes how she he beats on the door and eventually opens it, and then
she doesn’t finish the
It was truly a grim
story indeed, which has changed my life in various ways. I still look at the
I wonder if justice got served. I’m assuming that tragically it did not,
because of am still in
|In an industrialized world, the
tranquility and serenity that nature offers us is often hard to come
by. Recently I have become weary of our world that is run by computers, and I wish that I can go
back to the roots of America. I live in a small town that resembles a city in many ways. Parks
near where I live are overrated, and do not even offer a small dose of what real nature is about.
The true essence of the American culture is publicized by nature. I searched around Randolph
looking for a place to hang out and get away from society. At first I went up by the center of
town, but went down random roads to come across a good location. The search was not easy by any
means, and took weeks. Then finally after a frustrating day I wondered onto this location