The Unknown Darkness of Love

By Shamece Dove

In this deeply emotional novel, Lilianna Thomas is in college studying business administration in order to pursue her dream of producing her own natural hair and nail products. She has been heartbroken multiple times in the past, and as a result, the darkness in her heart has taken over and she retaliates on those who hurt her.

Derrick Rob

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Apr 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798885902526

Shamece Dove

Born in Newark, New Jersey, Shamece Dove is a quiet woman of few words, but with a lot on her mind that she puts down on paper. Creating stories, reading to her Mother and Nana, Shamece would always visualize herself as an author. Admiring other authors, Shamece began to start her own journey. Showing the world her creativity with her first book, Shamece was astonished that her hard work and dream had finally came to life. From being that little girl who wrote stories to share inside of her house to her Mother and Nana, now is sharing with the world. The humble spirit that remains inside of Shamece, she continues to thank God for giving her the courage to write, and people in her life to not only push her but uplift her throughout her life. As Shamece announced before, that she does not plan on stopping any time soon. She has shown the world once again that she is here to inspire others and show that it is important to go forward without delay, and believe your dreams will become reality.

Book preview

MY PAIN HAS TURNED

INTO FLAMES

S

irens I hear; they come closer and closer. The force of the heat rushes toward me. My eyes have not blinked; I am staring at the red and orange of the fire. Smoke blows across my face. My house is on fire, and I dare not put out the flames or call for help. Who called about the fire? Why would anyone call for help now, after hearing me scream for help so many times? They know exactly what is going on right now, but do I care? No. Let that shit burn—it's soothing my soul right now.

Someone's grabbing me, pulling me back. Are you crazy, miss! Let's go! a man yells in my ear.

Firefighters rushing to the house; water bursting out onto the house. They ruined it; he might be alive, though hopefully not. My mind is racing with my thoughts. Satisfaction runs through my blood. I have finally proved my point: don’t fuck with me. And you may ask why I did it when I could have just left. I couldn’t let this monster stroll around targeting other women and continuing to torture me, because I want to find happiness, true love, peace. For myself and my baby.

My baby! Where is my baby! My baby! My baby! I scream her name, trying to run toward the house.

Grab her! A police officer takes ahold of me and throws me down.

My baby is in the house! My baby! Get my baby! My heart is dropping; my fingers are trembling. I’m snapping out of it. What did I do?

She said a baby is in the house! Go in now! a firefighter yells out.

Holding myself, rocking back and forth, I scream her name, looking at the fire. Nia! Nia! Cry for Mama, baby! Please! What have I done to my baby? She was not supposed to be involved in this. I’m so stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

I see three firefighters run out of the house; I see no baby in their arms. She is in there! My baby is in there, upstairs!

As I try to get up, the police officer holds me down for protection. I scream at the top of my lungs, falling to the side onto the grass; my heart sinks. It's just me out here, looking at this fire, a fire that I created out of hurt, aggression, depression, and pain. You ask me, Was it all worth it? Honestly—yes.

UNRAVELING MY THOUGHTS

S

oothing sounds coming from the soft instrumental music playing near my ear. Lying on my back, looking up to the ceiling, I was debating whether I should go out and shop or stay in and study. I’m a typical college student—twenty-one years old, just trying to figure out life while living it as well as I can. Lilly is what they call me, but my name is Lilianna—Lilianna Thomas. No middle name. Some make fun of me, saying, That's strange. Some say, That's cool and tell me they wish they didn’t have a middle name either. Quiet is how I like to keep myself, but I like to be around my friends now and then. I am majoring in business administration—trying to start my own line of natural products for hair and nails. Sounds boring to others, but I find it fascinating.

I live with my mother and two older brothers. We moved to North Carolina for the better. I’m from Delaware. I know! Big change—hated it for a minute. Two years in, and I think it's going better than it did last year. I didn’t have too many friends at first, only two, but now I have seven friends, which makes me feel normal and not like a loser. I cared about what others thought of me, so I had to pretend I was an innocent young lady who didn’t know anything, like an airhead. This act got me through a lot and shocked a lot of people once they pushed me to that level of bringing the mean streak out of me. I miss home, but I guess this is home now.

Yellow—yellow on my walls, yellow nails and toe polish. My favorite color is yellow; it brightens me up, even though it is said to bring anxiety—sounds false to me. Guys—oh, the guys. I tell you, I do have trouble when a guy approaches me. They romance you, then suddenly beg for some as if they’re desperate. Yeah, desperate to spread what's itching in their pants and spread it to you. So lately I have been staying to myself.

It is pretty nice outside, though, might just take a walk to the lake and sit on the bench and read a little or come up with more designs for my natural products. Something will come up, but it's time to get some fresh air. I’m getting bored.

As I walk down the stairs, my mom and brother are talking about what's for dinner.

Hey, you guys! I say with a huge smile on my face.

Hey, baby girl, what's up?! My mom smiles and speaks with excitement.

Hey, butthead, what's up? Says Richie in an arrogantly manner.

Really, Richie? Hey, Mom, I was going to take a walk to the lake. Where's Eric?

You know what, maybe I should call him. He said he was going to the store to get some stuff for his house, but he never asked if I needed anything, Mom says.

Well, Mom, don’t you think he was buying stuff for his house, not yours? Thought I heard him talking, but once I come downstairs, I seen you talking to the cheap, ole’ donkey you’ve adopted.

Donkey! Mom, did she just call me a donkey? Richie asks with a confused expression.

Lilly, that's not nice, Mom says.

No, Mom, she good—didn’t know hairy chinchillas could come back talking shit, Richie says.

Watch your mouth in my house, Mom says.

He's always trying to play someone, Mom. Well, I’m heading out.

All right, honey, don’t be out too late—need some help with my hair.

Kissing her cheek, I walk away. All right, see you guys later! And Mom, I’ll make sure to grab some grass so you can feed your jackass of a son.

Lilianna! Mom exclaims.

Let me pray she trips and falls into a pond of crocodiles, Richie adds.

EYE CONNECTION

T

he clear blue skies, and the sun shining upon my face, hearing music and cars as I walk down the sidewalk—what a beautiful day. I walk down the hill, and my speed kicks up as I do; I try to slow down, but my feet were stumbling as I was trying to slow down. I know the neighbors are wondering, What the hell is wrong with this girl? Giggling to myself, I continue to head toward the lake, my peaceful place. Just me, myself, and I—what other better combination is there? None.

Finally I arrive. There is barely anyone here, which means more peace. Usually I see a group of men fishing and see kids on the other side of the lake, on the playground. Sitting down on a bench, I pull out my phone and turn it on silent. Time for myself, listening to the wind softly whistle past my ear, seeing the geese walking across the ground, finding food, or watching walkers go around the trail for exercise.

You ever wonder what is wrong with you? Not in the sense of something mentally bad going on, just a sense of wonder at why you can’t have certain things in life like other people? Money, cars, clothes, or houses. I think about love: How come I can’t find love, and why can’t love find me? Yes, I do get jealous seeing other people in love, showing off on social media and in public. I would like that, for once, but I guess love is not ready for me just yet.

Getting up, I decide to take a walk around the trail. I play music using my earphones as I go on my way. Picking up the pace, I feel the heat on my forehead and arms. Time for a sweat job. My favorite song has just come on, and I want to break out into a dance, but something—well, someone—has caught my eye. Slim, tall, caramel-toned guy coming toward me. Don’t make eye contact, Lilly. Just keep moving; don’t make eye contact! He looks at me and smiles while passing by. O, shoot!