page+3

 And then Jeff said "Right, prove it!" Molly was looking back at the class with pleading eyes, and she looked close to tears. Then a really nice girl, who is known for her curiosity, handed Molly a marker to whiteboard. And then she said "Hi, my name is Amanda. I am really curious, could you show us your writing with both hands? Please?" She looked really curious, genuine curiosity, not a hint of hostility in her voice, or on her face. "OK, but would you please tell them to stop yelling at me?" Molly responded, looking really scared. Amanda turned around and walked over to Jeff and whispered something in his ear. He backed away from her a second later and then looked her in the eyes and then said, "Why should I?" She leaned back in toward his ear, and whispered something else and then, a gleam came into his eyes that I recognized. It was the gleam that always came into his eyes when something he saw as exciting was about to happen. Then he told his friends to sit down and be quiet. They did as they were told. Molly approached the whiteboard slowly and signed her name with each hand to prove her unusual talent. The class gazed in wonder at her beautiful calligraphy. But her signature was different with each hand. They were almost exact opposite signatures. The only things both signatures had in common was that they were both majestic in their own way, and they were both neat and organized. Neither was sloppy. The signature with her right hand was an unrealistically beautiful calligraphy. It was curly, girlie, and looked like it was her favorite signature because you could tell she had put a lot of practice into it. It looked like an artist had taught her how to do this signature just right. It was an elegant and soft signature that read; // Molly // Well that's the best I could copy it at least. Hers is much more elegant. But her left hands' writing was more...masculine ...I guess you could call it. It was...choppy. I don't know how else to describe it. Each letter ended abruptly and suddenly, in such a basic way. It looked like it was a bit rushed. It was straight and sure. I was sleek and confident. It was strict, and disciplined so that it looked straight and reformed. Everybody just stared at her writing in awe and wonder. She looked at the class, I figured she would look back at us with a smug look on her face, but she looked horrified. Then I realized she was hoping that this might put a comforting and excepting look on everybodys face. She was looking for exceptance, when more people would be trying to get her to except them. She would be Jeffs' next target no doubt. She looked too frightened to go back to her desk, honestly, that would probably get everybody to snap out of it and then they would stampede her.

Good choice for her to make. So then, she decided to write this poem on the board next to her name. I have no clue how she fit on that white board. click here to read her poem