I Choose Peace Novels & Stories

And the crazy thing was…I still didn’t even know why. Thunder roared across the sky, and I looked up. The stars were gone, and dark clouds flooded around me. Little drops of rain fell on my face and I closed my eyes. As the rain steadily came down harder, I welcomed it on my face like a cleansing and let myself get soaked. I sat up and listened to the rain fall around me, letting the sound deafen my pain. “I guess we will always meet in the rain, won’t we?” I immediately opened my eyes and looked around. I didn’t see anyone around, but I recognized the voice. I looked even harder, and I still couldn’t see anyone. Was I going crazy?

“I want peace, but I don’t know how to find it.” Jessica took a deep breath, trying to keep her own emotions in check. “Peace won’t come from these bottles, Cass. It comes from within you. But choosing life is the first step toward finding it. You’re strong, stronger than you think. You just need to believe in yourself.”

She managed to respond. Miss. Anna walked in. "Wake up, my angel; Breakfast is served" She pressed the power button of her iPhone 12 Promax to check what time it was, only to realize that she missed Edwin's call ten good times.

“And if he doesn’t want to meet?” “Then we find a way to make him want to,” I said. I heard the steel in my voice and I did not falter. “But we will give peace a chance. Not because I’m soft. Because starting a war is a choice and it’s one I won’t make blind.” Petrov stood and moved to the door. “We’ll get to work.”

Everyone is silent and I actually wipe some tears away from my eyes. I sigh, calming down after my fit of laughter. "Wow. I'm so sorry to whoever wrote this, because that took me ages to read. And I would say I'm a little hurt, but I have people to vouch for me. On another note, I think I'm going to pin this on my wall." "What did it say?" Isaac asks me, genuinely confused and intrigued.

Peace’s eyebrows twitched, and she seated herself back in the seat. “What is it?” She asked. “Can you talk to me less robotically?” Isaac asked with dissatisfaction. Peace didn't respond for a few seconds. Then she slowly placed both of her hands on the table and leaned a bit forward. Her eyes filled with curiosity. “I have heard many things about you, Mister. Mendoza, but right now you are making me believe that all of them were just flying lies,” Peace replied. “Things? Like what?” Isaac asked with amusement. “That you are a perfectionist, and that you are a cold and ruthless leader that knows nothing about forgiveness,” Peace stated.

Hearing this, a sudden, inexplicable rage erupted from deep inside Chris' chest. He frowned, lowering his voice into a harsh growl. "Shut the hell up! Accidents happen on construction sites all the time. What are you screaming about?! "Just worry about the pregnancy. Stop overthinking. The sky isn't falling!" However, Abigail refused to listen. "I'm scrolling through the comments online, and everyone is tearing you apart! They’re saying you cut corners on construction materials, and that’s why the structure collapsed and killed people!

"Amara, I’ve been thinking about the Final Record. About what Elian said. A year of peace. Do you think we’ve really done it? Is the monster finally dead?" I thought about the vial in the vault. I thought about the broken zip tie. "The monster isn't dead, Tunde. It’s just sleeping. And it stays sleeping as long as we choose mercy every morning. Peace isn't a destination; it’s a rhythm. It’s the way you walk, the way you talk to the seedlings, the way you forgive the person who steps on your toes." Tunde nodded, closing the journal with a reverent touch. "Then I’ll keep writing. I’ll write about the fear, too. So they know that peace isn't the absence of fear—it’s the triumph over it."

A final, piercing scream tore from her throat as she plummeted over the edge. Kenneth murmured inaudibly, "Evie… I've avenged you." … On a bright, sunlit day, Maia visited my grave with my favorite lilies. She gently laid the flowers down and said softly, "Evie, I've been doing well lately, so don't worry about me. I'll come visit you often." A gentle breeze stirred, lifting the petals in a soft flutter, as though, somewhere beyond, I was answering her.

That scared her. But when he finally spoke, his voice was steady. “Then we redefine what peace looks like.” She looked up slowly. “Peace isn’t silence,” he continued. “Sometimes it’s choosing who you stand beside in the noise.” Her eyes welled up again. “You always sound so sure.” “I’m not,” he admitted quietly. “I just refuse to lose you because someone else wants attention.” Her chest felt tight again — but this time not from fear. From something deeper. Stronger.