It had been another day. The boring day. No visitors, No friends, and no children playing. Not even the usual insurance agents were stopping by; just a quiet, lazy warm spring day ending with a gentle shower.
The cool raindrops against her windows woke Emily from a long afternoon nap. Unlike most, Emily enjoyed the rain. It always made her feel clean, fresh and shiny new. However, she hated the winter. With a shiver, Emily remembered the day she first came to St. Christopher’s.
“Now, when was that… last year?” Emily laughed to herself, “Hmm… batteries must be failing…” No, it was last November. How could she ever forget the harrowing ride in the cold and blowing snow? Several times the driver had expressed his doubts of whether she would make it or not. However, she had made it, and after an extensive examination, Emily was wheeled to a comfortable corner of St. Christopher’s. Here it was warm and quiet and Emily enjoyed her stay.
Emily yawned and turned to find a companion had been brought in while she slept. The female next to her was young, no more than sixteen or so, with an attractive cream color and soft chestnut accents.
“Hi,” Emily said warmly, “my name is Emily.”
Emily brushed the rude reply aside. “That’s a pretty nasty bruise.”
The newcomer stared blankly into space, ignoring the comment. Battered and bandaged, she had a rough sort of beauty about her that could only have come from a hard life on the streets. Emily felt for her. She had seen mistreatment often and it sickened her. Why were people so thoughtless towards those they cared about? Emily could not understand. She had been lucky. In forty-five years, Emily had always been treated with love, tenderness, and respect.
“I’m sorry; I just thought you might like to talk.”
“I don’t know. You look like someone who could use a friend.”
The sixteen year old laughed sarcastically. “Friend… just what I need… another friend!”
“Why are you so bitter?”
“Why in the hell are you so damn nosey?” the teen snapped back.
Emily retreated a bit. So young, she thought. What could possibly turn someone so young and so pretty so bitter?
Time passed. The two rested in an uneasy silence. Finally the teen spoke. “Look,” she said quietly, blinking back a tear, “I’m sorry, really… It’s just… I’m just not used to having anyone be nice to me.” She forced a smile. “My name is Ginger.”
“That’s a very pretty name… nice to meet you, Ginger. Guess I came on kinda strong. I haven’t had anyone to talk with for a while. It’s been kinda lonely. If you’d like to talk, I’m here.”
For the first time, Ginger looked at her companion. “Thanks. Maybe I would. Have you been here very long?”