Four girls four completely different worlds. One look was awkward. She was nearly three hundred pounds and stood nearly six feet tall, but her mind was genius and heart was pure. One girl as perfect as only beauty can imagine, but the abuse was leaving an unseen ugly trail. Call the next one normal, but then again what defines normal for the secrets she holds makes her far from it. Finally, meet the one who is looking for love, but what is love? All searching for a piece of peace. In a journey to change their lives they find they share one thing in common. The journey each girl takes carries them into paths unseen as a search for love and happiness guides them into their futures.

The Covert Peace

By Darnell Denzel Williams Tara N. Woolfolk

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Darnell Denzel Williams
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4567-4679-7

Contents

Prologue........................................................1Chapter 1—The Empty Bus Seat..............................5Chapter 2—Mirror Image....................................11Chapter 3—Her Little Secret...............................18Chapter 4—The Runaway.....................................22Chapter 5—Occupied Seat...................................27Chapter 6—The Unseen Reflection...........................38Chapter 7—Little Things Big Surprises.....................51Chapter 8—One Final Step..................................58Chapter 9—The Leaf........................................64Chapter 10—Reflections....................................77Chapter 11—Tell the Truth.................................91Chapter 12—Open Letter....................................109Chapter 13—The Covert Peace...............................112Epilogue........................................................116Reader's Guide..................................................117

Chapter One

The Empty Bus Seat

(Harvey, IL)

November 3, 2008

(Girl 1)

Dear Journal,

I don't know what just happened. It was surreal. When he spoke Iblacked out, but I heard everything he was saying. It was like I had leftmy body and was floating near the ceiling—like I was watching my ownlife play out like a movie. When he touched my head I broke down andstarted to visualize all the horrible things that have happened to me in mylife. I saw people teasing me throughout my whole life in school, and sawme cry myself to sleep every single night begging for God to just kill me.I saw my parent's divorce, and how my best and only friend left me whenI needed him the most. I didn't know then that he wasn't what he seemedto be. That "friend" was nothing but a druggie, a drunk and a liar; he wasnothing but a horrible person. But right then, he was my BEST friend,and I needed him. I saw how much of a scumbag my mom's boyfriend wasto her, and how he tried to touch me when I was only twelve. I even sawall the times in my life that I was told I wouldn't amount to anything andthat I should just go and commit suicide, which I have thought about foras long as I can remember, but only attempted once. My mind went backto all the teachers that said I would never amount to anything, and mademe feel I wasn't good enough.

Then all my thoughts came back to the present as he continued, "Youhave been touched by an angel." And I believe I was. At that moment Isnapped out of my trance like state; I saw him walk away into the darkness.He left me with a job to do, and I attempted it. This led me to writing thisentry. I wish he were standing in front of me, so I can just hug him andsay thank you.

Indeed, he has shown me something no one else ever has before this.He has shown me that I am not what those people have said to me, or thethings they did. He showed me they were all just mere instances in mylife, and that in a way, they even helped me. They molded me into thebeautiful person I am. He helped me see that I am worth something. Heimpacted me in an entirely different way than anyone else has; a directlypositive one. He told me I was worth something, no matter what anybodyelse said and that he was proud of me. This is something I have heardbefore, but it was in exchange for things like getting good grades or takingout the trash on time. This time was different. He had no reason to saythat to me. I hadn't done anything for him. All I did was sit there andlisten to him. He agreed to come out here to talk to me today and it'ssomething I will never forget.

I know that one conversation will not change my entire life overnight.But I have hope now. And even though I'm not sure how long it will bebefore he steps out of my life, this will never truly leave me. It will alwaysbe a part of me, because it showed me a light that has never shined on me.I hope my light stays.

She let her mind wander back to August, that same year....

* * *

Little Bear paused for a moment, and thought about what he had just read.He didn't know this girl, but he hoped her light would stay too. Wonderingwhy she was thinking of August at a time like this, he pondered what life musthave been like before she wrote this entry. So far, he was fascinated, if a littleconfused.

* * *

August 13, 2008

(About four months earlier)

Once again bus 177 was running behind the normal "three o'clock onthe dot" schedule. As the kids from the forgotten about projects of Harveydreaded the summer's heat many of them began to fuss. Their frustrationseemed echoed by their collective rough appearance. The I.D.'s that wereworn around their necks were said to be "safety measures," but the five digitnumbers etched under their names did not seem to separate them fromthe markings on the clothing of criminals. The security guards stationednear the exit doors had their holsters lined with flashlights, a nifty pad thatcame clipped with a pen, and walkie-talkies that only picked up only onechannel. Their only real purpose was to keep the gangs separated fromeach other. Every student seemed to have their own place of belonging.With a quick glance one could see who belonged to what gang family,who was part of the band, or even who stood alone.

The person who stuck out most from the crowd was the young ladywith so many books; some had to be held in her arms tucked snug betweenher crossed arms and chest. The others were in her fully stuffed backpack.She seemed awkward, uncomfortable with her nearly six feet of height.She seemed to curl up a bit so that she might blend in with the shortergirls. Her body was full figured from waist side to back side. The hoodieshe wore, and others whispered that she was crazy for wearing one inthe heat, was faded black and its hood strings were annoyingly uneven,squashed between chest and the calculus textbook she held tiresomely.Her legs were free to breathe as the extra baggy jeans stretched all the wayto her toes housing them ever so freely. The irritated face was justified bythe perspiration that formed on her forehead. Her dark glasses covered hereyes, but the biting of her bottom lip and creased eyebrows made thempierce fiercely through the lenses. Red cheeks and a flared nose added tothe awkwardness and intimidation to even approach her. Her long darkbrown hair was tucked behind her ears and extended down her back afew inches or so past her shoulders. No one stood near, as if someone haddrawn a five feet boundary around her. Her intense breathing was dueto her sinuses, so a steady hum was generated from her mouth and outthrough her chapped lips.

Finally, the bus rolled in loudly and pulled in front of the sixty kidsangrily waiting to go home. That young lady made sure she was the firstto grab her seat. She sat five seats on the left side always behind the busdriver. She scooted as close as her body would allow her to the window,and glazed aimlessly while waiting for the rest of the people to board. Shebegan to think about papers she had to write, the calculus that needed tobe completed and tried to figure out what she would be having for dinner,because like always, mom would be working until late. Her thoughts ofself-pity were interrupted when she glanced to her right and noticed herempty seat had been occupied. This face was unfamiliar, and never hadanyone sat next to her before. Her glance became an awkward stare.

His handsome smile was not weakened by the strength of her glare.His appearance was striking, but not as much as the aura that seemed tofill the atmosphere in his presence. The awkward gaze ended abruptlywhen eye contact was made between the two. To her surprise the stare wasmet with an inviting smile. As she fought not to startle at his continuingstare she could not help peering into his unwavering eyes. She shifted herhead back to the left where she resumed looking out the window.

As the bus made each routine stop through the rinky-dink town shefrantically peeked to her right to see which stop was his. With a few blocksto go before her stop on 150th street the bus came to a stop at the corner of147th and he swiftly got off and walked into the distance. The bus pulledup at a stop sign, tagged "FREE ME" on 150th street, and as she preparedto get up she realized she had been holding her breath the entire time sincehe had gotten off. She exhaled in frustration, gathered her calculus bookand backpack and headed down the bus aisle.

While walking through the trailer park on this day she didn't evennotice the boarded up trailers, the cracks that lined the uneven sidewalks,or even the stench that filled the air. All of her focus was locked in onher bus seat five rows back on the left hand side as she began to hope theunfamiliar face she had instantly grown intrigued by would occupy theempty bus seat.

* * *

A passing breeze caught Little Bear's attention momentarily. Off in thedistance Little Bear could see that the sun was rising higher in the sky. The sunseemed almost unbelievably perfect that day. He half smiled thinking of thegirl on the bus' light and he wondered what was to come, seeing that the nextpart of the packet contained another address and entirely different date....

* * *

Chapter Two

Mirror Image

(New York)

December 14, 2008

(Girl 2)

Hey Covey,

Wow! I am so sorry it has taken this long. Things can get pretty crazy,huh? Well, as you have probably guessed I have rewritten this letter about10 times. I want it to be perfect. Alright, I am going to explain how muchof an impact you have had on me. We only chilled for like, three days atmost, and with our conversations you would have never known it. You'dthink we've known each other forever. Right from the start you have beenthere for me 100%—scratch that, 110%. I always know when I am feelingat my low I can turn to you. I have poured so much into your hands, andyou have poured it all right back into mine with so much more light andpositive attitude; enough positive attitude to put an even bigger smile onmy face. You have helped me realize what being a strong person is reallyabout. You've helped me realize that being strong isn't being able to put ona show for everyone. It's about being able to show the emotions you arefeeling right at that moment. It's about taking everything from the past,good and bad, and being able to hold them by your side and not so muchbe ashamed, but somewhat proud of whom you are. It is about being ableto move on with your life and not let your past tear you down, but to lookat the positive in the obstacles that you have overcome, the ones you areover coming and the ones you are bound to surmount.

Now, my past isn't as bad as some people's, but I've been through mydad leaving us for the woman across the street when I was four. I wentfrom daddy's little girl to therapy within such little time. My family wasin a rut for three years; my brother and I pretty much had to take care ofourselves. I was anorexic and cutting myself by the 6th grade. I was cutting up until about the 10th grade, and it is something I have not been able tolet go of, and to this day I still get urges. By the time I was in the 9th gradeI became bulimic, and once again it is something I cannot let go of. Ioverdosed on 26 Advil pills going into the summer of my 10th grade year.All because my grandmother was someone I had always cherished and itwas unbearable watching her suffer for so long at such a young age. I guessGod had seen enough and took her out of this world in February. I thinklosing her and our house in a recent flood was part of the reason the familydid become closer. The taking four years of my ex-boyfriend's mental andphysical abuse didn't work well for me either. He has beat the hell out ofme, but even through all the pain am I a fool to love him and believe thatthings will get better?

Despite all that has happened to me in the last four years I have gottenbetter. That night when you made me look into the mirror is the momentwhen everything changed. That night really helped me find myself andbecome more secure. I have always prayed for God to help me when I wasstuck. I think he has finally given me that help, and that was YOU! I canhonestly say to you that you are a best friend. I mean it with all I have thatwhen I hear your voice, whether in a time of need or not, I have a securefeeling; just because I know you care. You are my hero. You make it a partof your duty to help anyone who needs it. You are the nicest person I haveever met, not to mention the most caring. You have the biggest heart outof EVERYONE I know. Well, I just thought I would let you know all ofthat. I love you lots and lots it is profound and only we will ever be ableto understand!

Love Me Forever!

* * *

That last letter sounded all too familiar. Little Bear stopped and looked awayfrom the packet for a good long minute. It was almost like he was readingabout part of his own life. Was it a mere coincidence that some of the strugglesthat the girl mentioned matched parts from when he was ten? He shook it offand continued to read, compelled to find out what would happen next....

* * *

August 8, 2008

(About 5 months earlier)

She tied her long black hair and dabbed the silent tears that rolleddown her cherubic cheeks. The dark rings around her eyes still existed, butthe make-up made her seem as if she were only tired. Her stare becamea hopeless glaze as the image that reflected a fake and forced smile beganto fade. Her beautiful fair skin now resembled a purple and green shade.Her eyes never shined anymore, and her eyelids hung low and dreary. Hereyelashes were long and elegant, but only served as a distraction from herown vision. The lines across her wrist were perfect red parallel lines. Aftera long stare in the mirror she untied her hair and let it flow loosely aroundthe bruises on her neck. She took the hair tie and rolled it onto her wrist.Much better, she thought to herself.

As she made her way down the stairs she counted her steps. The tensteps that led directly into the living room were steep, so she cautiouslyheld on to the railing. She wasn't used to such steep steps. She wasn't usedto a living room that was filled with what seemed to be happy familyportraits. She tried not to be jealous as she looked at the picture of the bighappy family who smiled so freely. She was only going to be there for a fewshort weeks. The flood had ruined their basement at home and they werenot allowed back in, so her mom sent her to stay with the Leyo's.

She plopped down on the loveseat and waited for Niya. She and Niyagrew up together in New York, but once Mr. Leyo got a promotion thefamily moved to New Jersey. Niya was always overly nice. She seemedto be oblivious to the things that were happening all around her. Sheloved Niya's outlook on life, but wished her friend could just listen to herproblems rather than always think that things would just magically getbetter. Niya came prancing in the room with a cheerful good morning.Niya's life seemed to be a musical playing in her head. Niya lifted her fromthe loveseat and she followed her out of the door.

The girls walked to McDonald's, which to her seemed a million milesaway because the rain was coming down in buckets. Of course Niya dancedand twirled on the sidewalks the entire way. As she watched Niya and triedto lighten up a car drove by near the curb splashing water all over her.

Continues...

Excerpted from The Covert Peaceby Darnell Denzel Williams Tara N. Woolfolk Copyright © 2011 by Darnell Denzel Williams. Excerpted by permission.
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