Forward By the Author

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Chapter Thirty Three

Monica wanted to die. How could she have agreed to three days of this torture? She was in a constant state of pain, physically and emotionally. Her muscles ached from trying to stop the shaking and spasms. The medicine the doctor gave her helped a little, but not enough to make the feelings of hopelessness go away. She wanted so much to leave and be left alone!

Thoughts of her past were constantly in front of her. When she closed her eyes, she could see her baby. When she slept, she dreamed of Sarah and her husband Brad, and how she would probably never see or speak to either of them again.

She had been able to eat more the past day, though that was little comfort. A lot of it had ended up on the floor after waking from another terrible dream. She’d never thrwn up so much in her life. The nurse assured her if she could get through these first few days, things would improve. The nurse with her gentle assurances only made Monica angrier. It grated on her nerves to have this woman, this stranger tell her things would get better.

There was no way to make things better. She’d made a mess of her life and that was it. End of story. No happy ending, no recovery, no nothing. Except pain; that seemed to be the one constant in her life. And she knew she deserved it. She deserved worse. Right now she couldn’t fathom what worse could possibly be, but if there was something, she deserved it.

Her mind wandered momentarily to what might be happening outside this place. Tim was going to call her boss and let him know what was going on. Though Monica thought he’d been angry enough to hit her if he’d been that kind of man, Tim still promised to take care of a few things while she was in detox. She had given him the keys to her house and asked him to let Hank have a look around, in case she decided to sell.

Monica wondered what Tim might be doing now, and why he didn’t just give up on her. She half wanted him to. It would make things that much easier. The mocking voice in her mind assured her that Tim hated her. She should just leave, go back to life as she knew it, and not look back. Tim wouldn’t keep his promises anyway. He’d teach her a lesson yet to pay her back for lying to and hurting him.

The nurse came in then, and informed her Tim had called to see how she was doing. The nurse also said he had taken care of the things he’d promised, and that he was praying for her.

Monica didn’t get her hopes up, but the fact he’d called meant something, didn’t it? That maybe Tim wasn’t as mad as she thought, and would forgive her. She clung to this new hope like a life line. She would stay the three days even if it killed her. And it just might. She rolled over and allowed herself to be sucked into another round of worrisome sleep.

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The air was cool and sweet as it blew against Monica’s cheek. She was in an open field, lying on her back, resting on a picnic blanket. Beside her was an open basket, full of her favorite things. Trees dotted the hillside where she rested, blocking the sun from her eyes. She was searching for shapes in the sky among the clouds. So far she hadn’t seen anything she recognized, but she was enjoying her rest.

She leaned up on one elbow as steps approached. Walking toward her out of the woods was Sarah. She was an adult, and she was beautiful. She smiled as she walked, happy to see Monica there waiting for her. There was a young man coming behind her, and he, too was smiling.

Monica sat up and made room for them on her blanket, but they walked past her. They didn’t seem to see her there, or if they did they ignored her. She called to them to come and join her, but they kept walking. They walked all the way across the field and into the wood on the other side.

Monica wanted to spend time with the beautiful girl that was her daughter. She wanted to know what made her smile so sweetly, and wanted to ask who the young man at her side was. She got up and brushed off the back of her capris. She took a look around; making sure no one else was coming, grabbed up the blanket and basket, and then followed the path Sarah and the young man had made in the grass.

A few feet from the wood Monica stopped. Her heart accelerated, and she felt afraid. She wanted to see Sarah, but she didn’t want to enter the darkness of the wood alone. The basket and blanket felt unusually heavy as they rested on her arm.

Happy laughter floated on the breeze coming out of the wood, and made Monica want to find Sarah even more. She entered the wood and easily slipped through the trees. As she continued, they grew closer together, making it harder and harder to ease through. She walked for a few minutes before it was too difficult.

The trees were now situated in such a way that she could not continue. As much as she wanted to find Sarah and her young man, she couldn’t. Not while she held the basket. But Monica didn’t know how long she would be inside, and was sure she would need the things in the basket once she found them. The things in the basket were precious to her, and she couldn’t imagine leaving them behind.

Monica looked down at the basket and then again at the wood. Bubbling laughter echoed among the trees, drawing her a few steps closer. The basket slipped down into her hand, and she let it rest gently against the ground. She tried to take another step forward, but the weight of the basket prevented it.

She let the handle slip until she was just holding it with the tips of her fingers. She took a step forward, then another, letting the basket slip completely out of her grasp. She turned back and looked at the basket. It was tearing at her to leave it behind. But as she entered the wood, the laughter rang about, bouncing off the trunk of every tree, and bringing a smile to her face. She searched for Sarah and the young man, but found no one.

The farther she went into the wood, the darker it became. Light no longer filtered through the tops of the trees. She turned to look back at the wood where she’d left her basket, but it was obscured by the twisting trunks of wood.

Monica walked slowly, listening now and then to catch a snippet of the laughter she’d heard before. Silence met her, breaking only when she took a step. She felt so alone. The wood was dark, the way was hard, and she desperately wanted to turn around and claim her basket. Just when she was about to give in to despair, she heard the faint sound of voices just beyond where she stood.

“Mother? Come and find us. We’re on the other side of the wood. Come and find us!” Sarah’s voice rang out clearly, a lilting sound that cheered Monica’s spirit. She walked on, hurrying through the thick growth of trees desperately wanting to find Sarah. The farther she went through the wood, the harder it was to see. She felt turned around, unsure of what direction she faced.

She stopped for a moment to gather her bearings. As she stood still and waited, a path became clear to her. One part of the forest wasn’t as dense as the others. She began to slowly walk down that path.

“Mother…are you coming? I’m waiting for you. We’re waiting for you. Mother, please come to us!” Sarah called out sweetly again. Monica slipped carefully through the tight trunks toward the sound of Sarah’s voice.

She continued through the wood, and as she rounded the trunk of the largest tree she’d ever seen, she saw the wood began to thin. Sunlight gleamed through the leaves, making an interesting pattern on the forest floor. Sarah and the young man waited for her at the other side of the wood. They held out their arms, calling to her, and she ran to them, laughing with joy.


Monica awoke with a smile on her face. No longer did she feel the weight of recovery bearing down on her. She no longer felt alone. For the first time, she thought maybe others really wanted her to get well. She had the strangest sensation that the Lord was speaking to her through this dream. She sat up slowly, stretching out the aches from her muscles.

She would fight through this. Sarah wanted her to. Tim and the Lepleys wanted her to. They were waiting for her to let go of the cocaine. To come out of this addiction, the twisted wood that was her life right now. She would do it for Sarah. For them. For herself.

She walked to the bathroom and washed her face. When she looked in the mirror this time, she didn’t see a woman beaten down by addiction. She saw a woman determined to get well, no matter what it took. She knew the road was long, that the way would be hard, but she was determined to get through it. Just like in her dream, she would take one step at a time. And when the path got too rough, she would stop and wait until the Lord showed her the clear way.

Monica's spirit felt strengthened, renewed somehow. She remembered back to the conversation she'd had with the nurse. Tim had asked about her. Surely he hadn't forgotten to pray. She would pray too. She shuffled back to her bed, straightened the covers, then sat beside it on the cold tile, and talked to the Lord.

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