Chapter One: Salvador
Silver Monroe skipped up the stone steps to Westover High School. Silver could have easily gotten almost any boy she wanted; only she had yet to find the one meant for her. She walked swiftly down the long hallways to her first class; math.
After about ten minutes the boy sitting behind her raised his hand, asking for water. Silver had been in mostly the same classes as him almost the entire year and she had never heard him talk before. She had never really even noticed him before. He had long, blonde hair that was almost white and black eyes. The teacher, Mrs. Taylor dismissed him and they continued with their lesson. Silver didn't see him again until English. Silver usually tried not to sit in the back of the class, yet today she sat next to the boy. She wanted to know his name.
Once the teacher began to teach, Silver began writing something down on a scrap of paper.
'Silver, what are you writing?' she asked. 'Would you like to share it with the class?'
'I apologize, Mrs. Hodges,' said Silver. 'I was only taking notes as to help me remember the lesson.'
'It's alright, Silver,' said Mrs. Hodges, 'but could you take notes when classes are over?'
'Of course,' said Silver, as she thought; that is just fine. I have finished writing, therefore, it does not matter if I must write no more.
As Silver glanced at the boy, she thought she saw him watching her as he wrote something on a scrap of paper. He had the paper slightly in his lap, Silver realized. No one would notice him writing.
I was very much so obvious as I had written upon my notebook paper, thought Silver. I could not ever think of to be secretive as I was writing.
The boy reached over, letting the slip of paper brush her arm, and placed it in her desk.
After school Silver took out the note and opened it. It read; You draw much attention to yourself, I would not act quite so ostentatious if I were put into your situation.
Somehow getting a note from a boy like him made me feel exited. Like as if I were someone special...
Silver Monroe skipped up the stone steps to Westover High School. Silver could have easily gotten almost any boy she wanted; only she had yet to find the one meant for her. She walked swiftly down the long hallways to her first class; math.
After about ten minutes the boy sitting behind her raised his hand, asking for water. Silver had been in mostly the same classes as him almost the entire year and she had never heard him talk before. She had never really even noticed him before. He had long, blonde hair that was almost white and black eyes. The teacher, Mrs. Taylor dismissed him and they continued with their lesson. Silver didn't see him again until English. Silver usually tried not to sit in the back of the class, yet today she sat next to the boy. She wanted to know his name.
Once the teacher began to teach, Silver began writing something down on a scrap of paper.
'Silver, what are you writing?' she asked. 'Would you like to share it with the class?'
'I apologize, Mrs. Hodges,' said Silver. 'I was only taking notes as to help me remember the lesson.'
'It's alright, Silver,' said Mrs. Hodges, 'but could you take notes when classes are over?'
'Of course,' said Silver, as she thought; that is just fine. I have finished writing, therefore, it does not matter if I must write no more.
As Silver glanced at the boy, she thought she saw him watching her as he wrote something on a scrap of paper. He had the paper slightly in his lap, Silver realized. No one would notice him writing.
I was very much so obvious as I had written upon my notebook paper, thought Silver. I could not ever think of to be secretive as I was writing.
The boy reached over, letting the slip of paper brush her arm, and placed it in her desk.
After school Silver took out the note and opened it. It read; You draw much attention to yourself, I would not act quite so ostentatious if I were put into your situation.
Somehow getting a note from a boy like him made me feel exited. Like as if I were someone special...
Ring a Ring a Rosies,
a pocket full of posies
ATISHOO ATISHOO, we all fall down
Known to be a song about a ring of roses, little children singing in a row, then you sneeze and you fall down. Did you ever play that game as a young child? Hold hands and dance in a circle?
Now for the reality.
This nursery rhyme is about the Black Plague.
Ring a ring a rosies - you used to have large pinky red circles on your skin, this is how you knew you had the plague.
A pocket full of posies - People used to hold posies up to their nose to keep the smell of death away. They also believed that it would keep the plague away. (didn't work)
Atishoo Atishoo we all fall down - you know what THAT means? if not that, people would sneeze and cough and you'd know that OHMYGOD WERE DYING! And you'd all fall down (basically, you've popped your clogs)
Some people think it is a very, haunting, creepy song if sung in a certain way other than the cheerful way.
Randomness lol.
a pocket full of posies
ATISHOO ATISHOO, we all fall down
Known to be a song about a ring of roses, little children singing in a row, then you sneeze and you fall down. Did you ever play that game as a young child? Hold hands and dance in a circle?
Now for the reality.
This nursery rhyme is about the Black Plague.
Ring a ring a rosies - you used to have large pinky red circles on your skin, this is how you knew you had the plague.
A pocket full of posies - People used to hold posies up to their nose to keep the smell of death away. They also believed that it would keep the plague away. (didn't work)
Atishoo Atishoo we all fall down - you know what THAT means? if not that, people would sneeze and cough and you'd know that OHMYGOD WERE DYING! And you'd all fall down (basically, you've popped your clogs)
Some people think it is a very, haunting, creepy song if sung in a certain way other than the cheerful way.
Randomness lol.
Giggle Giggle went the lad’s,
For they were doing something bad,
What they were holding in their hands,
Oh, it was not the building plans!
Leaders of the building team,
Oh - so - sensible they seemed,
But what nobody else did see,
Was making them chuckle with glee!
One of them looked over his shoulder,
One of the men, the picture holder,
Just to make absolutely sure,
No one thought them immature.
When he saw the coast was clear,
Once more at the picture did he peer,
And I’m sure by now you’re aware,
Exactly what that man saw there!
Amazing.
The glue that holds us together....ALL of us....is in the shape of the cross.
Immediately Colossians 1:15-17 comes to mind.
"He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.
For by him all things were created; things in heaven and on earth , visible and invisible,
whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities;
all things were created by him and for him.
He is before all things,
and in him all things HOLD TOGETHER. "
Colossians 1:15-17
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