Tag: Late

I was supposed to be taking notes for this week. But I didn’t. It is too late now, and I don’t remember what happened, so I can’t write a journal. I will try harder to take notes from now on. I am going to work on getting my school done on time too. I am sorry.

Vella

Today I didn’t get all of my school done. I had really hard LA. It took a really long time too. I had to get three articles from the newspaper and glue them into my sketchbook. (Which I am not supposed to sketch in for some odd reason.) After they dried I was supposed to answer some questions and count sentences for each of them. I didn’t finish doing that. We are not doing school tomorrow because we need to pack.

Today is the day before Succot. Succot is a Jewish holiday that we celebrate, we are going to go camping for a week this year. So therefore I will not be doing school for the next week. I know you are so sad, no journals to read for a week! (Secretly you are most likely saying “Yippie!”) even though the only people reading this are going to Succot with me. Actually, now that I think about it I don’t think anyone is going to get around to reading this journal. That is sad. But then again nobody is going to read this, so it doesn’t matter if I say it is sad or not because nobody is going to see it! This is very frustrating, I am being forced to write this journal for school and nobody is even going to read it except me. I know that doesn’t sound like a big deal to you most likely, but as a writer what is the point of writing if nobody is going to read it!!!!!!!! This is very depressing. I would rather write about school, even though it might be years before somebody reads it.

School was school. I don’t like most of school. I didn’t finish school today. I am having trouble memorizing one or two Bible verses a week, we are going too fast. I just started writing a story, I am going to put it below. I hope you like it. (You had better not comment saying it’s horrible. Even if it is, constructive criticism welcomed though…) So here it is…

Prologue

Knock, knock knock. “Bertha? Can you please go answer the door before it falls down?” “Yes Miss, I’ll go straight away.” A moment later Bertha appeared again. “It’s someone to see you miss, he said et’ was urgent Mi- Are you all right Miss? You’re white as the linens!” “I-I’ll be fine.” “All right Miss” She said disbelievingly “ ‘e asked for the Master too.” “Please go straight away.” “Yes Miss.” It might not be the summons. Well, there is no way to know unless I get up and to the door, so I might as well get up. She walked hesitantly towards the door. It looked foreboding, the sturdy oaken door was much taller than her. And she was not short. Slender, but strong with long shiny brown locks and inquisitive greenish-grey eyes she had been the life of many parties. She shook off her dread, no use in worrying about what is to come. I can’t change it, only God can. But I can be strong and let Him use me. With that she grabbed the handle and gave a sharp tug. It didn’t budge an inch, she had locked it properly at dusk. As she unlocked the sturdy metal bolt she felt the uneasiness return. The lock was meant to keep things out, she had worked so hard, made sure the bolt was properly secure, kept it locked after dusk every night, never staying out late, and making sure plenty of servants were about. There is no use in worrying she sternly told herself. She took hold of the handle and pulled. This time the door swung open. Her husband chose that moment to join her at the door. His face was guarded. The man outside the door was tall, his face covered by the brim of a inexpensive hat. His clothes were dark, as if to blend into the impending darkness. With a start she realized that was likely the purpose. She shivered, and not only from the cold. “It is time.” He quietly said. His voice was gruff, and his manner of one used to being obeyed. Sonya! It was so soon, the letter was done at least, but she must hurry! Her legs started moving of their own accord. “Sonya… There is still time!” She called to her husband over her shoulder as she ran. She knew it was not proper for a lady of her status to run, but she did not care. Her feet seemed to pound out the words as she ran, “No time, no time, no time!” But there had to be time! Oh Sonya, my darling! She ran faster, and faster still until the rooms were flying past. Why was their house so large? There. The nursery door! She stopped running abruptly, she did not want to wake Sonya up, it would only make it that much harder. She quietly pushed open the door a crack and squeezed through quickly. She walked cautiously over to the bed, the moonlight flooded the room, falling on the sleeping girl’s face. She knelt down and scooped the sleeping child into her arms. “Bertha?” She called as she walked into the hallway. “Yes Miss?” Bertha inquired coming down the hall towards them. “Take Sonya to Annabell, keep her safe.” She must be safe, she added in her head. She would be, no one would expect her to be hidden there. “Hurry!” Someone’s voice called up the stairs. Her husband. Everything seemed so unreal. But she must go. “Goodbye dear Sonya, be safe.” She whispered. She kissed the angelic sleeping face, she was only 4 years old and already she had been affected so much. She brushed back the hair on her forehead, uncovering the scar. Her efforts to protect her had failed once already, but now… “Hurry!” Her husband called again from downstairs. She turned towards the stairs. Looking back one last time she hoped against hope it wouldn’t be the last. She hurried away. The note! Bertha must read the note! “Bertha, there is a note in the second drawer of my desk. Read it, and follow the instructions carefully!” She said urgently. “Hurry!” She turned for the last time and rushed down the wide corridor. “I’ll be back!” She called to the half awake Sonya. She only hoped she could keep that promise…

Chapter 1

Beautiful! Sonya sighed in longing for that which she may never know again. She could just see the slender hands dancing on the keys. She could clearly hear the music so beautiful it made you want to cry… It was so clear… Could it only be memory? “Sonya! Get back to your work! The room won’t sweep itself you know.” Said a stern voice, interrupting her thoughts. “Yes Mistress.” Sonya replied. She fought back tears. It was, alas only a memory. Already it was slipping away from her, she wanted to cry out, don’t leave me here, alone. Alone, such a sad word. But I am never truly alone, she speculated. Mistress is always near to load more chores upon me, or tell me I am doing the ones I have wrong. Though she was cross, the Mistress was truly a comfort to poor Sonya who knew nothing of her father and mother except the fact that they had disappeared, leaving her in the Mistress’s stern care. Perhaps her mother had played piano, she often heard beautiful music and saw slender fingers dancing on piano keys, and she liked to believe it was her mother. But she did not know for sure, and she darn’t ask Mistress for fear that she would snap at her and give her extra chores. She already worked as hard as she could, and did not know if Mistress had even met her mother. She wouldn’t chance it only to find Mistress didn’t know any more than she did. After all, she thought, I don’t believe Mistress would bother tell me what she knows if she knows anything, and she certainly wouldn’t admit it if she doesn’t! So, with Sonya knowing nothing it remained. After she finished her chores, Sonya went out to the stables to see her friend, Betty. Betty was a dairy maid. Her mother, the Lady’s Maid, and her father, the Valet. She was Sonya’s age and had moved there when Sonya was six, Sonya had only been there a short time then. She did not even know how long she had been there. Wow, had she ever been that young? The girls had been fast friends ever since. They had explored the stables, made little crosses to decorate the servants quarters, pick berries to eat, and studied the Bible together. Betty had showed Sonya her favorite cows, and Sonya in turn showed Betty her favorite rooms to clean. Sonya thought back to when Betty had first come, she had been such a shy little girl then, she was so malnourished you could almost see right through her. Betty had told her of her life before they had come, when they had had lived in the quaint little Village of Tanson. And Sonya had shared of her few and far between memories. They had gone to the little chapel together on Sundays, and picked wildflowers for Betty’s mom’s room. Betty’s mom was almost a mother to poor Sonya, and Sonya often tried to brighten her day for it. 

I am getting better at art. I drew a very good VeggieTales face. It looks sort of like the asparagus dad’s face. I am working on different emotions and eyebrows. I am having fun now that my drawings are more recognizable.

You think in the Bible they might figure out not to take censuses. We read about the man who God promised he would see Jesus before he died. We also read the part about the prophetess who prophesied about Jesus right after the man gets to hold Him. I didn’t realize Jesus was my age when He went to the temple. That’s cool. I wonder how much Jesus understood, I mean did He know that His parents didn’t know he was the Christ? How about understanding people talking ect when He was a baby? How can Jesus increase in favor of God and man? Doesn’t it say you can’t earn His favor? But then again that is we can’t, who says Jesus can’t? Did you realize all the crazy town names are names after rulers ect?