The to it, if one of my damn books

The
Catcher in the Rye is a 1951 novel by J.D Salinger, and the main character’sname
is Holden Caulfield from New York City, and he’s in a mental hospital.

I’m
going to write an additional part to the literary work, and I’d put my piece
afterthe sentence “Pencey was full of
crooks” which is in the first chapter.

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It’s
going to be written with a curious and informal tone, and hopes to address a
general audience who are really interested in those kinds of books that make them
think. In my work, I tried to use an informal, ironic, first-person perspective
language, with phrases that were frequently used by Holden, like “goddam, “lousy”,
“though”, “and all”, “hell”,”damn” and “kidding”. I practicedto use an
easy-to-understand and simple level of vocabulary, as well. Using these
elements, I feel I reached my purpose of making readers immerse themselves in Holden’s
behavior through his problem-solving processes, and how he’s able to brainstorm
because of tiny issues like a coat.

This
task addresses the option topic of social relationships, and mostly the connections
and occurrent problems between students.

I
chose an extra part as my text-type to do, because I think I can supremely
express the particular characteristics of the main character with this
structure, through his ways of thinking, and how he tries to solve his problems,
mostly with overthinking.

Word Count: 226

Where is my coat?

I’m
not kidding, though. This was my goddam favorite camel’s-hair coat. I don’t
believe the fact that there are so many lousy people around me in Pencey. I would
put no attention to it, if one of my damn books or my other crazy things was the
stolen one, but this is worse. I’m going to leave this damn school soon,
though. I’m so angry…somebody just came to my room and took it away straight
from my cupboard with my fur-lined gloves. Anyway, I really… no, incredibly
hated those gloves, I hate basically every kind of stuff on my hands. Just
kidding, I feel sorry about them. I actually can’t get rid of this idea. It’ll
kill me as hell if I don’t find the thief. What can a person like me do? Go to
the principle? I’m not so sure that this is the best I can do now. I have to
solve it in my goddam way, but I have to keep it a secret. I never know who I
can trust, and all.

I
exactly remember that day. I was with my roommate in a little recess of Pencey
Prep. He had some damn problems with his family. I’m not the best man to talk to
about this phony shit, just to be honest. I tried to help him during the whole
day, but I couldn’t unfold the story, because Stradlater is touchy as hell, but
he’s a secret slob. Never mind. The only person could be Ackley. Nobody else.
He’s my next-door neighbor in this goddam dorm, and he basically has a terrible
dental hygiene. If I think back, Ackley was quite often in my room and he knows
my class schedule and all of my activities outside the school. He could be the
only wrongdoer. Anyway, I had to know the damn truth, so the whole afternoon I
tried to send Ackley and his roommate down to the library. After a while he
just didn’t answer me. It killed me. Suddenly, Ackley’s roommate walked to the courtyard,
he was a really quiet boy, so at least one of my men was removed. I just
continued to focus on my friend. I saw him, and asked again, whether he wanted
to go to the library with me, and all. Finally, after a lot of thinking old
Ackley said yes. He just remembered that he needed some books, too. Ackley always spent hours in a place where there were lots
of damn books. But how? For Chrissake. I escaped after 10 minutes, and I ran up
quickly as hell. I went to my room for Ackley’s room key. But the goddam key
wasn’t there. He always puts the important things straight into my cupboard.
It’s really interesting; I took a damn try with the door for nothing. It was
closed. I heard some noises from the stairway, and I passed by the door, and
started to walk back to the books. Maybe the perpetrator wasn’t Ackley but I’m
going to investigate later anyhow. The fact that there are so many phony
students in Pencey Prep, and I can’t change the way how the hell they behave, really
kills me every time.

Word Count: 534