Red Rose - Loyal

Black Rose- Meditative

Purple Rose- Up crowd

Green Rose- Smart

Orange Rose- Laughter

Scarlet Rose- Avenger

White Rose- Believer/Trustworthy

Grey Rose- Kind

Yellow Rose- Scribes

Silver Rose- Wise/Thoughtful

Blue Rose- Sorrow/Helpless

Pink Rose- Jokers

Mossy Rose- Studiers/ Workers

The Coming- Preface

Jesse’s stormy blue eyes never left the ground as he walked towards the school. His tan peach hands were shrugged inside of his blue jeans, and he wore a navy blue and white collar sweater. His blond hair swayed as he walked, and people seemed to notice him. No one had seen him before, and even the kids who were driving their cars into the

the parking lot stopped to gawk at him. He was beautiful, mysterious, and mighty. It was the middle of the Third semester, and usually no one would transfer to a new school during midterms, especially not a freshman. But Jesse was doing it. Whispers went around as he walked up the steps of the brown brick school, girls couldn’t stop their penetrating eyes, and boys couldn’t get over the fact that there was a newcomer in little Blackwood, Virginia. He didn’t speak as he made his way through the crowded halls, he seemed to know were he was going, even though everyone KNEW that he couldn’t have known. He had just got there, not unless he had been at the school before. But that couldn’t be, because there was only 500 kids at Blackwood High, and everyone knew each other. Even the teachers stared at this newcomer as he walked pass their classrooms. He was a glorious shiny head in a field filled of coal. He made his way through the whole school, never looking up. Finally he stopped at room 109. Everyone in the hallway at that time, glanced at him as he slowly pulled out one peach hand from its pocket. Revealing a muscular arm, and tendons that looked more like a 19 year old man than a 15 year old boy. Jesse brought his hand up to the door, and lightly knocked at it with his knuckles. Smiling, the whole entire time.

“The cold breeze flows through the wind and the air. Throughout time w begin to think it’s natural. Although we didn’t understand why the wind cries those deep, deep wails. It all seemed to hurt so much. Like a pain was flowing through it’s vacuum, but then we realized that it wasn’t the wind that was crying. It was those cold blue roses that lay at the bottom of the valley.” Speech by the Scarlet Roses 1990