beccawritesalot
Hysteria filled the air. It was everywhere, infecting the minds of the youth, plaguing everyone who got too close to the crazy mob. They didn't even remember what they were rioting against, they had become to caught up in the wave of shouts and screams of other rebels. The once organized protesters had become an angry mass of kids, fighting a battle with only voices as their weapons, hate buried deep in their hearts, and rage blinding their vision.
They were hysterical.
Integrity. Sali hadn't known what it meant.
"Honey, its good to have integrity, in anything you do, or how you act," Mama, had said, her face a maze of lines; sadness and hard work etched into every inch.
Perhaps little Sali did not need a dictionary after all.
writing since 2011 · 4 entries · 3 days shown up
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integritywarmmamahoneyfacemazelinesetchedsadnesshardworkdictionarysaliwrappingglovesneck