Bad Connection by Melody Carlson

By Melody Carlson

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It still is. Other than my best friend, Olivia, I don't think most people really get me. But that's okay, because I know that God gets me. For that reason, I try to keep this part of my life under wraps. For the most part anyway One The wipers slap furiously, whipping back and forth like wild things, but the windshield remains a murky puddle before my eyes. I lean forward and push my chest against the steering wheel as I try to see what's ahead. The curving road is pitch-black—dark and shiny—and the blindingly bright headlights of the vehicle tailgating me don't help.

More than that, I knew that I'd never ever TL leave Him again. And it was shortly after that retreat that I experienced the gift again. But this time I was wide awake. It wasn't a dream. It was a vision. It's hard to describe what it was like. I mean, my eyes were wide open, and I was just sitting out in the backyard, in the old tree house Dad and Zach had built ages ago, actually praying, when it happened. Suddenly I saw something unreal—like something that was lit up. But it wasn't like watching a movie exactly.

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. Was that real? Was it from God? And if so, what am I supposed to do about it? What can I do? I mean, all I saw was the image of Kayla in a car, crying. What does that mean? But now the lights are turned on fully, and Mr. Brant is telling us to get out our notebooks and prepare for a quick quiz about what we've just seen. And I'm thinking, really? He's going to ask me about Kayla in the backseat of a car? Like what model was the car?

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