Worth It

Chapter 9

Monica walked down her street on the familiar route that headed to church. Samantha had texted her that morning asking if Monica could meet her in the youth room to talk for a little bit. The cold wind slapped at her bare cheeks turning them a rosy red. She breezed in a deep breathof the freezing air causing her lungs to burn and her eyes to water. She ducked her head against the onslaught of wind, but soon realized the pointlessness in her attempts and just resolved to walk faster.

It had been a week since Monica was released from the hospital. She was feeling much more like herself, but also very different. She was feeling better health wise, she had recovered well from surgery and had even been able to go to school for a few days at the end of the week. Autumn and Kelsey had tried to bring keep Monica up to date on projects and homework, but Monica had found herself to be behind anyways. In the same way, she didn't feel like herself at all, as if she was a completely new person.

Monica's hands shook a little with anticipation of meeting with Samantha. Despite all the changes within Monica in the last few weeks her anxiety had not been lifted from her. It didn't feel as overwhelming, but Monica knew that it was a burden she would have to carry, possibly always.

As the small white church came into view, Monica's nervousness increased. Without breaking her stride, she crossed her arms over her chest, took a deep breath, and walked through the doors.

"Hey Monica, it's great to see you up and around!" Samantha stood bythe door to the church, smiling as always. Monica smiled back as Samantha lead her into a small room with couches wrapping around the perimeter of the room.  They both sat down on the same couch, an ugly blue color with floral print. "Now I know this isn't quite as exciting as our last one-on-one, but I really felt God laying it on my heart to talk with you now that you're a Christian. You can ask me any questions you still have or if you want someone to talk to, I'll listen. This time is about you and whatever you need right now.

Monica shook her head and smiled, "You know, I've never met anyone who is as kind to me as you are. Maybe I'll tell you a little more about my past first?"

Samantha gave a nod of encouragement. Monica searched for the right words, the right place to begin her story, but nothing seemed quite right.

"Take your time," smiled Samantha. "I know this can be hard."

"You're not kidding," whispered Monica holding out her shaking and sweaty hands for Samantha to see. She had never told anyone her whole story before. Finally with a single deep breath, Monica began not caring about her story sounding right, just taking a weight off her chest that she didn't know she was carrying.

"My grandparents were Christians, I remember going to church with them on Sundays when I was very little. My grandma told me stories every night before I went to bed, now that I think about it; they were probably from the Bible. My parents weren't Christians. We never went to church when I was home. My grandparents died in a car accident when I was six, and until recently, I hadn't stepped foot in a church since then.

I was always a quiet, nervous child. I was so afraid of messing up, of letting my parents and my teachers down, even in elementary school. I had one friend, but she was my best friend. Riley Carlson, we were inseparable. Riley was more outgoing than I was so once middle school started she made other friends. I didn't mind, we still did things together just the two of us. Her new friends weren't my friends, but I hung out with them sometimes. In eighth grade when Riley turned fourteen she had me and a group of her friends over for a sleepover. We were playing truth or dare and being the quiet girl who didn't want to make a fool out of herself, I asked for a truth when it was my turn. They asked me to tell them a secret about myself. That year my anxiety had been getting worse, but no one knew. I trusted Riley more than anybody and she had told me so many secrets about herself over the years. I told all those girls about my anxiety and the struggles I'd been having with that. When I finished, they laughed at me. Mortified, I called my mom and told her I wanted to come home. After that night, all those girls stopped talking to me, even Riley.I realized that they had never been true friends, that I had never had a true friend.