The Peacemakers

Silverwood Academy

Story 3:

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God."

Matthew 5:9

Vee

The wind whipped around me as I made my way inside the academy. Coach Trace and Ms. Trane had wanted P.E to be outdoors since the snow had melted yesterday, leaving only slush and the odd pile of ice--snow. I do not like P.E, plus, I stink at it, which is really an understatement, especially compared to Clare. It was soon over, but all I had managed to do was to get hit in the face three times by the ball, fall in the mud four times, get kicked who know how many times, and elbowed twice. By the time P.E was over, I was a battered mess of scrapes, bruises, and bumps. Limping along behind most of the others, I fell behind, and one of Jillian's goons, Samantha, shoved me into the wall. She laughed when I cried out, my whole body hurting beyond belief.

"What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" She taunted me when I didn't say anything. I was too busy trying not to burst into tears in the hall.

Samantha pushed me up against the wall again, grinning deviously. Jillian walked by and said through gritted teeth, "Come on, Sam." And continued walking. I stood in the hall for quite a while, my mouth flapping uselessly, and I'm sure I look like some sort of fish trapped on land. I snapped out of it when a young girl, around eleven years old, stopped in front of me.

"What happened to you?" she asked and another girl joined her.

"I-- we, well, you see, sports is not really my thing, and this is usually what happens if I'm forced to play sports," I explained, gesturing to my poor, bruised, body.

"It's too bad you don't like sports," the second girl sympathized.

"Have you ever tried to get better at sports? Maybe you'd enjoy it if you knew the rules and stuff," the first girl suggested.

"I... I never thought of that," I said, looking down at the short girl. Her uniform was a mess like mine, her tie lopsided and shoe laces untied, but I got the feeling that she always looked like this. She had a huge scar on her forehead and her orange hair was half out of it's elastic.

The other girl's uniform was crisp and clean, without one stain. Her hair was hazel brown and her eyes were dark and sharp.

"What's your guy's names?" I asked the girls, falling in step with them. "I'm Cleo," said the first girl. "And I'm Jammie--Lyn. Or just Jammie."

"I'm Vee. Vee Paulson."

"Oh, no!" Jammie interrupted. "we're late for class!"

"Relax, we'll only write lines or get detention," Cleo said lazily and continued by my side. Jammie's face went white.

"Come on, Cleo, let's go." She grabbed her hand, pulling her into a run.

"See ya, Vee," Cleo threw over her shoulder at me with a wink. I waved and limped on without the two.

They left me pondering the Jillian situation. Why on earth had she pulled Samantha away from me? Why hadn't she shoved me some more or kicked my bruised shins. It had to be a trick. There was no way Jillian Johns was deciding to leave me alone now. After the past two years? Absolutely not. I refused to believe Jillian had changed. God had amazing ways and grace, but there was no way He could save Jillian Johns.

---

I reflected on what Cleo had said about getting better at sports that night as I lay in bed. Who could teach me sports and who would be willing to teach me? Clare shifted in her sleep down below me and I started to grumble, but suddenly it hit me. Clare! Clare was good at sports. She could teach me! My heart sank when I thought of the 'being willing' part. Clare probably wouldn't want to teach a nail polish and hair lover. I would have to really impress Clare if I wanted her to help me. I'd have to sleep on it.

The days passed without Jillian pestering me. In fact, I could walk past her without a glare or being tripped. But then it happened.

One day, at lunch, Jillian walked up to me without Samantha or any other goon and said, looking at her shoes, "Hey Vee. I--" She paused and took a deep breath, looking into my eyes.

"I'm sorry for every stupid thing I did to you. I'm so sorry. You never did anything to me and, well, I just wanted to say sorry." I could do nothing but stare at her, my mouth open in surprise.

"Do, do you forgive me?" She asked, a pleading look in her eyes.

"I-- I..." I stuttered. Finally I came back to earth and fire burned in my heart.

"After what you have done to me?! Harassing me and making my life miserable, I don't think so. Someone like you doesn't deserve to be forgiven!" I turned away, walking to my table.

But Samantha stuck out her leg and I, well, tripped, my tray of food clattering to the floor with a crash. Everyone near went silent, then they all began to laugh and my cheeks flushed bright red. Flustered, I sat up, my uniform covered with soup. Then, out of the crowd came a girl. She looked around fifteen or sixteen years old and she knelt down by my side, helping me clean up the mess. For what seemed like the hundredth time these past weeks, I was frozen in surprise. Then came Cleo and Jammie from the tables, and finally, Jillian. In fact, Jillian pulled me to my feet, glared at the laughing crowd, and led my bruised, hurt, crying body out of the hall. Jillian brought me straight to the girls washroom and together we tried to clean up the front of my uniform.

"It's no use," I sniffled, throwing the soup stained paper towels in the garbage.

"I'll go get changed in my room," I said, heading for the door.

"Could... could I come with you?" Jillian implored, following me.

"Uh." I hesitated for a moment. Would she corner me? Hit me? Do something totally terrible?

"Sure, I guess," I finally answered with a shrug.

Jillian said after a bit, "Hey, um, Vee, do you forgive me? For all I've done the past two years. I'm so sorry for everything. And you're right. I did try to make your life miserable, until... until Jesse came and, well, helped me stop being a total jerk."

"I, but Jillian," I said, stopping int he middle of the empty hallway. "Why? Why were you bullying me?"

"I, well, before you came, I was the best at school, sports, and maybe my looks." Her face was embarrassed and ashamed. "So, I decided to get you back for taking my life away. Now I know what I was doing was wrong and, I'm so sorry."

"Yes, I forgive you, and well, could you forgive me? For not forgiving you right away?"

"Of course! Now can we please just be friends?" Jillian asked as we continued down the hall.

"Yes, please. I've never really had a friend, a real one, before," I told her.

"Well, you have one now." And we linked arms.