Note: Hey ya'll! Sorry for taking SO long on this. My life has been busy! But now I've gotten back into updating my stories. This is the fourth story I updated since the end of May! I think that's pretty good progress. Anyway, I'm hoping to not keep ya'll waiting too long! Enjoy the chapter!

Place To Believe Chapter Two - Megan and Rhoda

Megan Wheeler loved sunny days. They made her feel happy inside, and she felt that it was a special gift from the Lord above. Humming a tune, the girl examined the contents of the basket she was hardly ever without. Inside were a blanket, some bread and cheese, and even a few apples. She smiled to herself. It wasn't terribly much, but it was something.

Megan sat on a bench in the park she had been walking in. This was the scheduled meeting place. The girl she was currently talking to was rough around the edges, though Megan thought she had a soft heart. Megan knew the girl had a hard life.

She noticed a movement on the path. A pretty raven-haired girl approached, her dress had obviously been patched several times. Her deep blue eyes held a sorrow Megan couldn't lay her finger on.

"Hello Rhoda," she said, patting the space next to her. "Have a seat." The girl did. She was older then Megan, probably eighteen years old, but at times she seemed even older then that. "

"Thanks for meeting me," Megan continued. "I could have just visited you, after all." Alarm filled the other girl's face.

"No! You don't want to do that."

"Why?" Megan asked, only slightly surprised. After all, she had visited countless poor homes, and the residents were often ashamed of it, though she didn't mind. Rhoda averted her eyes.

"It's not a very good place," she muttered. "Especially for the like of you." Rhoda fingered Megan's clean, tear free cotton dress as she spoke. Megan smiled.

"The Lord does not see one man about another, and neither shall I. God has many children, and most of them are people like you, not the rich and upper-class."

Rhoda jerked her hand away as though it had been burnt. Megan recalled the first time she had seen Rhoda.

It had been raining, the sky a dreary grey. But even grey could not put down Megan's cheerful spirits. She had been having a good time with Lillith, Melody, the other girls, and even a few of the boys. Now laughing, she walked onto the porch steps to get some fresh air, and inhale the scent of the rain. As she breathed in deeply, Megan noticed a figure standing across the road, her clothing soaked, and eyes filled with longing. Megan decided she must have been watching their frivolity through one of the windows, and desired to be a part of it. Megan waved, smiling. The girl's eyes widened, and she turned and ran off down the street, as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn't.

After that, Megan had seen the girl several times, and finally, one day, she had a chance to talk to her.

"Wait, don't run away!" Megan called, her cinnamon colored hair blowing in the breeze. To her surprise, and delight, the girl turned, her eyes frightened.

"I'm Megan." The girl didn't move as Megan stepped toward her. "Don't be afraid," she said, holding out her hands, a smile flitting across her face, her blue eyes holding nothing malicious. "What's your name?" The other girl's eyes studied her intently. Finally she spoke two syllables, the first word Megan had heard her utter.

"Rhoda."

"That's a lovely name," Megan said approvingly, while reaching into the pocket of her long, black skirt. The other girl backed away, staring at the pocket as if she expected a gun or knife to be withdrawn. This made Megan smile wider.

"Don't worry, it's just this." She produced an apple. It was shiny, red, and scrumptiously large. She had found it in a heap of apples in the kitchen. Megan held it out. "Go on, take it," she said encouragingly. Rhoda did.

Now, several weeks later, Rhoda was becoming more at ease with Megan, though she still refused to reveal much about her past. Megan had even begun witnessing to the girl, and she sensed she might be making some headway. But Rhoda had to let go of whatever inner demons attacked her.

"Have you thought more of what I was telling you?"

Rhoda looked away, pulling at the frayed fabric of her own dress now.

"This Jesus," she said in a small voice. "Tell me more about Him." Megan leaned back against the bench, her voice becoming dreamy as she spoke.

But he was sent from God as a baby who would someday grow up, and take the sins of all the world upon His shoulders."

Megan continued telling the story as Rhoda listened. As she recounted stories about Jesus healing lepers, and the blind, Rhoda turned a sad countenance to her.

"Can your Jesus fix broken hearts?" Megan looked back at her, feeling of compassion swirling inside.

"My Jesus can fix anything."

"Well, he can't fix me," Rhoda mumbled, rubbing furiously at her face.

Just then, there was a yell, and the girl's face became deathly pallid.

"Oh no.."

"Rhoda! Where are you girl!" The voice was loud, angry.

"Quick, get out of here," Rhoda said to Megan with worry in her voice.

"Why?"

"Just go. You don't belong to my life, Megan. And you aren't safe here."

"I'll see you again!" Megan promised as she hurried away from the bench and hid herself in a stretch of trees.

She peeked out as a tall, thin man, of about nineteen appeared. He had blond hair, and muscles rippled beneath his old shirt.

"There you are," the man said, grabbing Rhoda's wrist with his strong hand. Megan frowned as she heard Rhoda release a gasp of pain. "What have I told you about wandering off!" he yelled, shaking the girl quite violently. Megan wasn't sure what to do, since at least five more men ranging in age from fifteen to twenty had appeared.

"Sorry, Con," Rhoda said, her face filled with pain. The one she had called Con released her wrist, and she immediately clutched it.

"Don't let it happen again." His eyes grew softer, and he grabbed the girl, roughly pressing his lips to hers.

"I don't want you to get hurt," he said. He kissed her again, in quite a passionate manner. "Let's go home," he said, giving her one last kiss on the top of her black head. He took his hand in his, and she trudged after him slowly.

Megan wasn't quite sure what to make of what she had just witnessed. Perhaps she would one day be able to convince Rhoda to tell her what was really going on. With a sinking heart she realized that she still held the basket meant for the other girl

Note: Please let me know what you think!