An even more fragile looking, 13 year old Rain lies curled up in a corner, bruised, bleeding, clothes torn. Three other much tinier children huddle nearby, clearly afraid to even touch her and even more afraid of the man in the doorway.

"Oh, come on. What the hell did you think I wanted from you?" he asked. "I might have been the first, but I sure as hell won't be the last, so you might as well get used to being a whore. It's how you all end up anyway."

He dropped a bag of food just inside the door. "And a word of advice? Next time don't fight so much. You won't get hurt as bad."

He started out, then turned back. "Be out of here by morning or you really won't like what happens. And you - all of you - any of you say a single word about this to anyone and I swear I'll slit your throats. Four filthy thieving street kids dead? They'd probably give me a medal." The man spit on the floor and was gone.

One of the more daring of the little ones scuttled over and dragged the bag of food back to the corner. "Rain gets some first," he said.

Rain managed to shake her head and turn her face to the wall, too hurt to want to eat. "For you little ones," she whispered.

"Bloody Mary almost got you," one of the little girls whispered. "We better pray for the Blue Lady to watch out for us."

Rain nodded, keeping her face hidden so the little ones wouldn't see the tears she couldn't stop.



Rain wouldn't be going anywhere or doing anything today.