*Chapter two: Walking Away*

Monica promised her self she wouldn't look back as she walked away. It wouldn't be long before she would be in town, and then she would be safe, away from harm—at least she hoped so. So many times she had come face to face with evil, not expecting its next move, and many times she had walked away from it, easy, nothing said. So why was it so hard to do this time? What was it about the disguised devil that attracted her this time?

She absentmindedly concentrated on her feet as she paced the ground, not even realizing that she had entered the small town of Duluth once more. The Ariel Lift Bridge once again came into view. It seemed to be welcoming her, and the sight of an immense cargo ship passing under it caught her interest.

Her mind was wondering away from her again, her thoughts drifting into another world. That had been happening so much lately. She looked up to find herself at the bus stop. Perhaps Duluth wasn't where the Father wanted her to be. She would have to go farther—if there was a farther.

The Irish angel reached into her pocket and pulled out a ticket just in time to give it to the bus driver. It was the same man that had driven the bus on the way.

After all of the passengers were boarded, Monica shut her eyes, deciding to open them when the bus driver called the last stop. When she did open her eyes, it was because of some commotion towards the front of the bus. Her brown eyes scanned a young man arguing with the driver because he did not have a ticket.

She couldn't stand being cooped up any longer and picked her self up and slowly stepped out of the bus, not even paying attention to the "good bye" the driver gave her. She wasn't paying attention to the real world that existed around her but rather the one of fantasy that she had made up in her mind—where all her dreams and thoughts were stored, far away from everything else.

The Irish angel managed to read a sign along the side of the road.

Welcome to Cloquet, she read to herself.

It was a small and quaint town that made Duluth look like a metropolis. The stores were old fashioned and there were quite a few churches along the side of the roads. There were many fast food restaurants and a few formal ones. She noticed a small bowling alley and gas station as she walked further on. Her feet were carrying her across a bridge, below rushing water hurled.

"Oh, Father," she whispered. "What do you want me to do? Huh? I'm of no use in this condition. I wish you would help me. Evil seems to be trapping me in every way." She looked down and started to cry. Tears slowly rolled down her flushed cheeks. She sniffed and wiped her cheek.

Finding a small field nearby, she sat down amidst the wildflowers and tall grass.

I will help you, Child. I will if you'll only let Me.

Monica smiled as she picked up a lavender flower and inhaled its aroma. It seemed to relax her, bring her peace. Nothing had been doing that—not even coffee, and that was scary. Actually, she had almost lost her taste for coffee. She had lost her interest in everything that had once pleased her—even God. She was drifting away from Him more and more as the days passed. She was drifting away from her existence as an angel.

"Monica?" a deep voice called. The Irish angel whipped her head around and tried to smile at the sight of Sam's broad figure but failed.

"Sam," she said, trying to sound the least bit cheerful but again failed. "Long time no see." Sam let out a chuckle.

"It has been a long time, hasn't it Monica?" The young angel nodded, her auburn, shoulder-length hair blowing in her face. "The Father has told me to deliver you a message. You know, the last time I did that was a very long time ago when I was in annunciation," Sam said with a laugh. Monica still didn't show any evidence of a smile. "Well, He told me to tell you that He's sending an old friend to help you."

At those words, Monica's spirit seemed to brighten. She perked up her ears, ready for Sam to tell her more.

"An old friend?" she said nervously.

"Yep. You two will spend some quality time together. But, Monica, honey, you have to understand something." Sam paused, making sure that he had her full attention. "This next week is a time for you to relax and forget all of your worries. Don't let…"

"Who is it, Sam?" Monica interrupted, eagerness filling her lilt.

"Andrew. Andrew is going to be arriving in just a few minutes, and please be ready." Monica nodded, finally smiling, though the smile was something she was forcing from deep within her. All she wanted to do was let Sam know that she was all right. "Good. Then that's settled. Now just wait patiently, and Andrew will instruct you from there." Sam took one last look at her and laid an arm on her shoulder. "Keep trusting in God, Monica," he said, worry in his tone. Then he disappeared.

Monica took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. How would she react to seeing Andrew after three years in the condition that she was in? Perhaps Sam was right. Maybe it was time to walk away from her troubles and leave them behind her.