Visit 7-2

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Her name was Jenny. She was 21 years old, and living alone, struggling to pay rent, working two jobs as a waitress and as a prostitute. I was taken aback by that. I felt this deep, awful pain in my heart when she told me. No one should ever have to sell their body to make enough money to live. I felt so awful, so sorry that she had to do that to be able to eat that day. I just listened, and held my cup in my hands, feeling the warmth of it burn them. Now I know why she did that when we met. I could see it on the shop owner’s face, he felt sorry for her too. Not many people take pity too well, but she did. She smiled and cried silently. I knew more about her, but she was still a complete stranger to me. I invited her to come live with me and my mother. Rent would be cheaper for all of us. She declined. But I could see she was genuinely considering it. The rest of the night was spent sitting in silence again, that was until the door creaked open and a scrawny man walked in, in dark grey sweatpants and an over-sized black hoodie. He noticed us and turned to walked back out, but he froze. The shop owner walked over and sat him down a few tables away from us.