Red Past

Colton Rhoads

19November 2012

Ms.Harmon

Pre AP English 10

Red Past

As an 11-year-old child you don’t ever think that you could ever leave the one and only home you’ve known your entire life. As I sat in the front seat of my mother’s familiar white Pontiac convertible, I glanced out of the car window to see the familiar red shutters. The paint was faded but the look stayed the same. We drove away from the house, leaving behind memories of the past. A new sign sat in the yard with the two same, old words I remember from my past,”For Sale.”

The arguments have been going on for a while; its omly been months since my seventh birthday and everyone seemed so happy.My parents voices were raised and they were yelling for hours. At this point I didn’t want my innocent 5-year-old sister to have to listen to the constant bickering.

“ Come on Carley, come with me, we’re gonna go play outside.” I said.

“Okay.” She replied.

Through the window I could see my parents yelling. I could pic kout a few words they were saying. My heart dropped as I saw that one word slip through my dads teeth. Divorce. As I stared into the fiery red shuttersm not a single tear came to my eye, just a single though. Why?

The ball dropped through net for my first point. My dad was beating me in our pick up game of one- on-one. We stayed here all day in the driveway, working on shots and passes. Every shot missed would always bounce off the bright colored, red shutters: Mom always gets angry when it hits the shutters. I recover the ball and continue on with the vigorous practice. I notice the paint slowly chipping away with every passign day.

The snow covered the ground. It was my fifth Christmas. I woke up and jumped out of the bed, ecstatic to see what Santa Claus brought me. The very first thing I notice was the basketball goal sitting in the kitchen in a box. I rushed to my paretns room and immediatley grabbed my father to run outside and assemble it. The house was covered in  thick, white snow to match the color of the rest of the house. The only color that could be seend was the brightly colored shutters, lighting up through the pure, white snow.

I woke up in my car seat with a sense of warmth. The car came to a stop in a small driveway. The house that sat in front of us was white with short, white colums and a giant garage that looked like it could hold ten cars int it! As I wiped my eyes of drowsiness from my slumber, I heard my mother say:

“Welcome to your new home, baby.”

She opened my door and picked me up. As she carried me to the house, I noticed the freshly painted red shutters and the new sign planted in the green, grassy front yard. The sign read two words. “For Sale”.

my experience with reading.

 I never have enjoyed reading as much as a person may think. When I was young I would listen to my parents tell me bed-time stories and read books in school, but I never actually enjoyed it. My memory of my first time reading is not very vivid. I can only rember the books that I started to learn with, these included: The Giving Tree, Dr. Seuss’s, and the Winnie the Pooh series. These books became the building blocks for my beginning reading experiences. After these books I would move along through the higher reading levels ny reading books such as Because of Winn Dixie and many books by Gary Paulsen. These books were some way that I could get any type of entertainment during school.
As I progressed through my school years I began to read more and more. I never enjoyed reading when I was little but as I grew many of my peers began to read and recommend novels to me. I took these sugggestions into consideration and began reading whenever possible except for at my home. I like to keep my school life away from my life at home. It wasn’t until the fifth grade that I started my movement from the usual fifth grade level books up into seventh and eigth grade levels. I picked up on the famous series by J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter. Once I finished the first book of the series I knew that I would absolutley HAVE to complete the whole series. I can honestly say that the Harry Potter series is my favorite series. Once I completed Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I knew that I would have to read them again. So once again I picked up book one and began reading through the chapters, taking in every word. My experience in that series may have been the mosrt important. It led me to find even more series such as: Artemis Fowl, The Hunger Games, and The Chronicles of Spiderwick. I can honestly say that since I’ve read these ive never read a book that wasn’t included in a series of books. Sixth grade came and I was still reading books with interest. Trying to pick up on a new series, I would ask my reading teacher for suggestions. She would always have a new book waiting for me when I completed one. It wasn’t until the eighth grade that I stopped reading books as much as I used to. Every now and again I would pick up a book and try to read but I got bored with it. I just couldn’t find any books with interest as I did in elementary school. In ninth grade however, I found a new author to try. Although I cant remember the authors name I can still remembrer the genre of the book and the names. The first book I read was Fallen Angels. IT was a war-based book. After completing it I found a new type of book to read. This type was nonfiction, war-based. Ever since then if I read a book it must be about the military. This is where my reading experience has led me today.

What about Frankenstein?

The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World is a short story written by Gabriel Marquez. It is a story about a man who washes up on a beach in a village and is discovered by the villagers. He is taken into the village and “they took the mud off with grass swabs, they removed the underwater stones entangled in his hair…” They treat him like he is one of their own and they love and care for him even though he is not your average, everyday man. It shouldn’t matter what you look like you should always be treated like everyone else.

This short story is pretty much the contrary of Frankenstein. In the story of Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley, the creature known as Frankenstein is just like Esteban in The Most Handsomest Drowned Man in the World but he is treated completely differently. He is the “eight-foot-tall, hideously ugly creation of Victor Frankenstein” and everyone in the village hates him and treats him as though he is dangerous and harmful. For Esteban though, “the women then decided to make him some pants from a large piece of sail and a shirt from some bridal linen” he was treated with tenderness and care by the villagers. Poor Frankenstein, it isn’t right how the people treat you with hate and less love than others.

What should have happened in Frankenstein is that the villagers should have taken the time to realize that Frankenstein was not a monster. So many people judge others by what they look like or wear rather than what their personality is. For example, in The Most Handsomest Drowned Man in the World “They (the women) secretly compared him (Esteban) to their own men, thinking that for all their lives theirs were incapable of doing what he could do in one night, and they ended up dismissing them deep in their hearts as the weakest, meanest and most useless creatures on earth.” The women started to think of their men like the villagers in Frankenstein thought of the character Frankenstein. In the end the moral of the story should be that no matter what one looks like, we are all EQUAL.