Kidnapped

While on my way to the police station, the same car that hit the woman, drove next to me. Three people jumped out and dragged me into the car. My heart almost thumped out of my chest. The next thing I knew, I was in a dark room with several people around me. I saw the couple that had taught me about the painting. How could they have done such a thing? They argued about whether to kill or spare me. I knew too much. Just as the gun was pointed at my head, Mr. Warfield came out from the shadows.

Mysterious Woman

While on my way home, a woman told me to meet her at the library. I sat down next to her and she said that I was right. The painting was stolen. She said I was in trouble and in great danger. She said to leave ASAP. As she crossed the street after leaving the library, she was hit by a car a killed. I am very scared and maybe the police can help.

Fear

I presented the notes to the class today and everyone enjoyed my presentation. I handed the note to Mr. Warfield and he became sad. His face was red and tears were pouring from his eyes. Although I didn't mind going to the museum, I was still angry at my teacher for not believing in me. We got into a small screaming match. I ran home.

Back to the Museum, Once Again...

It turns out that my notes were at home, but I still had to go to the exhibit for the signature. When I got to the painting, there was an old couple staring at it. They were nice people and helped me take notes on the painting. They also showed me how to become an "art detective", analyzing the painting for symbols and themes. They are shown through colors and shades. I actually think I may have an appreciation for art now. Well I got the guard to sign a paper. Along with the signature came a note to Mr. Warfield. I was asked NOT to read it. While looking at the painting, it seemed different. It looked the same, but it felt different. Something is going on with that exhibit.

Liar

When I got to Mr. Warfield's class to present the exhibit, my notes were gone. I may have left them at home or at the museum. Anyways, my teacher did not believe that I went the the exhibit. I told him the information that I remembered, but he thought I just got some simple facts from a friend in class. He has told me to go back to the museum and get a signature from the guard at the museum. There is something weird about Warfield. He seems dark and scary at times, but I guess all teachers can be that way.

Museum

The museum was gigantic and made of exquisite gray stone. I searched for the correct exhibit and began taking notes. I searched for the date it was made and some of the themes. It was a large painting of endless farmland along with a starry night. After quickly jotting down some notes, I left and went home.

WAKE UP MORGAN!

I fell asleep in class...again. With all of the pressure of friends, football, and school combined with Mr. Warfield's boring lectures, I end up sleeping every class. As soon as I dozed off, Mr. Warfield slapped my desk. He embarrassed me in front of the whole class by telling me how I am going to fail in life. On top of that, he gave me a dumb assignment to go to a museum and write notes on an exhibit. Hopefully, I can get it over with after school.