She stared at the mirror. The girl in the mirror stared back. Never changing, always a perfect reflection of herself. The same thick dark brown hair that had been brushed until it shined, so unlike its usual messy state. The same piercing green eyes, enhanced by her makeup that was on point for once. Liquid eyeliner perfectly winged and even between the right eye and the left. Concealer hid the hollow andexhausted look that usually dominated her face.
Monica's heart pounded inside her chest, knocking against her ribs as she ran the brush through her hair one last time."You're doing this for dad; he really likes this church and wants you to go to their youth group tonight. It doesn't matter that you don't believe any of it. It's just a few hours, you'll be fine," she whispered to herself wishing that those simple words could reassure her. Wishing that somehow those words could be the solution to the anxiety building in her heart making her hands shake and her every breath a struggle.
They won't like me, no one likes me. They'll judge me because I'm never good enough for anyone. They'll make fun of me like the kidsat school. I don't fit in anywhere
Monica sighed and stood up smoothing down her favorite dark green shirt that brought out her eyes. "Well, here goes nothing," she whispered.Her tongue felt dry in her mouth. "I can do this."
No, you can't, whispered a voice in her headzapping any confidence she had managed to find staring at the mirror.
҉҉҉
Sooner than Monica would have liked, she found herself sitting next her todad in their white minivan as they pulled into the church parking lot. Her dad had told her everything he could about the church for the whole two minute drive. He was obviously excited about this church, which made Monica even more nervous that she wouldn't fit in.
"It's closer to our apartment then I thought," noted Monica as she fiddled with her seat belt in an attempt to stall the beginning of an evening of anxiety and awkwardness.
"Yeah, you can walk if I have to work late on Wednesday nights!"
Before Monica could escape the car, her dad laid his hand on hers. Sheglanced up at him cautiously. "Thanks for doing this Monica, I know you're not a fan of new situations, but I know you'll love it here. I thought it was a wonderful church when I visited."
"Sure dad," said Monica her smile genuine. Her dad didn't really understand her, but he tried his best and she loved him for it. "See you when it's over." With that, Monica hopped out of the car and started walking toward the church building. Her hands began to shake and she crossed them against her chest in an effort to hide how nervous she really was. The church was small and traditional with asteeple spiraling into the clouds. Double doors stood in front ofher, beckoning a forward movement. Monica's breath came in raggedgasps, her need for air causing a panic within her, but she kept walking forward. "For dad for dad," she repeated over and over as she opened the door and stepped inside.
A glance around showed a church just like the one she attended as ayoung girl with her grandparents whenever she spent the weekend with them. Teenagers stood with their cliches of friends around an entryway with a row of coat hangers. A few Bible verses were hung on thewalls, but Monica did not bother to read them. Acid burned her mouth,and she struggled to keep standing. A few kids looked her way, but none approached her making the moment more awkward. Slowly, Monica took a few steps into the church, but took a step back when a smiling young woman with short blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail approached her.
"Hello! Welcome to Crossroads, my name is Samantha," said the woman extending her hand to Monica. "I'm the small group leader of the freshman and sophomore girls."
YOU ARE READING
Worth It
Spiritual"All I ever feel is alone! No one understands me, I'm completely worthless!" Thoughts like these constantly dominate Monica Winter's head and heart. When her dad convinces her to attend youth group one night at a church near their home, Monica meets...