This is the fourth installment in my Faith Series --- which are Christian based fanfictions. These stories are not intended to convert or insult anyone. If Christian beliefs offend you, then I suggest you don't read. This is a sequel to Something More & City of Angels, but you don't have to read those to udnerstand. All you need to know is that Lily and Miley are Christians. I'm honestly not sure of Oliver's faith (I think he's Jewish?), but I wont be touching on the details in this story. Just God and His love. Lyrics used are by Casting Crowns. Story is in Lilly's POV. I'm looking for a beta, btw.

Prayer For A Friend

"Lord, I lift my friend to you. My best friend in the world, I know he means much more to you."

Anyone who knows Oliver Oken knows he's an all over happy guy. He's always so energized and cheerful; he's the kind of person that when you're around him, you can't help but be happy. But, that's not the case today. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Ever since last week, Oliver hasn't been the same person at all. You see, last week something terrible happened. Just thinking about it makes me start to tear up and a lump form in my throat. On June 30th, at 2:45 pm, Oliver's mother, who is a cop, lost her laugh by a gunshot wound to the head. She was patrolling with her partner, when they came across gang shooting. Her partners said things were slow, but then they head gun shots fire, and they made their way to the scene. On the hot pavement laid a young Hispanic boy and an older white man, both bleeding excessively. Before his mom had time to draw out her gun, time to protect herself, the gang member shot her. Just like that. Bang. Bang. Goodbye. I wonder, did this man even realize who he had shot? That she wasn't just another cop here in Malibu, that she had a son? That she is…was…a really great person, if not a little weird? Did he have any idea that by pulling the trigger he not only destroyed one life, but two.

"How's it going?" I ask, as Oliver approaches me.

His eyes are like those of a zombie; empty and bloodshot. His skin is so pale making the purple-ish bags under his eyes all the more noticeable. It's his first day back at school, and I'm beginning to wonder if this is such a good idea after all. Maybe he should take another week off? After all, his mother just died.

"It's going." He said lamely, putting his head down.

"How's it at your aunt and uncles house?"

Oliver's walked out on them when he was still a kid. So far, they haven't been able to establish contact with him, so he's living with his aunt and uncle.

"I dunno." He looks up at me, "Where's Miley?"

As if he had been calling her, Miley pops up. "Hey there, Oliver." Her voice was careful, and I can tell she doesn't know quite what to say. Really, what are we supposed to say? Mom keeps saying just to offer him support, but I have no idea how to do that. Neither does Miley. And it hurts. It hurts so bad to see Oliver struggling like this.

"Hey, Miley." He says, but his voice is so weak, you can hardly hear him.

"How's…What's… I mean, you know, it's just I want to….What I mean is," Miley says, stumbling over each word. The bell rings. "Yeah, what I mean is, we better get going to class."

We're all happy for the distraction.

My eyes are on Oliver during any of the classes we share. I know I should be focusing on my schoolwork, but I can't help but notice that Oliver isn't even paying attention to the word the teaches are saying. He just stares into space. It's like he's not even there.

Eventually, it's time for lunch. Time for awkward moments and unfinished conversations. Time for unspoken words to linger in the air, begging for attention.

I sit my tray down next to Miley and Oliver. Miley has a yogurt, salad, and fruit on her plate. Oliver has nothing.

"You're not eating?" I ask, a little concerned. Oliver really likes eating.

"No. Not hungry."

I start to open my mouth, but Miley gives me a shut up look, so I instantly close it. "Well, I am." I say, finally breaking the awkward silence.

We eat our food in silence, with the occasional small talk. But we prefer the silence. It's easier. Nonetheless, I know silence isn't the way to handle things, so after lunch, I pull Miley aside. "I think we should say a prayer for Oliver."

"You're right. I've been praying really hard for him and his family, but…"

I take Miley's hand. Oliver has already left, and we don't really care who sees us praying. For a second, I'm afraid that we'll get in trouble. I know you're not supposed to pray in school, but this is a private prayer. That's okay, right? But as I bow my head, I don't really care if I get in trouble. Jesus went through a heck of a lot for me --- I can risk upsetting some teacher.

"Dear Lord, please help our friend Oliver. He really needs you right now. Please help Him to be able to cope with his mothers death and please guide him where he needs to go. Hold him, God, please hold him close to you. Give him the comfort he deserves." I say fervently, "Please, God, just help him…help him be okay."

Together, Miley and I close our prayer with an amen. We feel a little bit better, but we know this prayer isn't a some magical cure for Oliver's sufferings. It's a start, though…and it's all we can do.