At least he didn't lie. The church really was only like a block away from my bench. Pathetic.. My new home has become a cold rusting metal bench. Anyways, back to the church. It looked like it belonged down south really. It was very simple, old white paint that was peeling off in someplaces and a nice little tower steeple at the front with a modest wood cross. It stood out among the shitty ruins of New York, like some small ray of innocence in the description that was New York.
Their idea of a "soup kitchen" was a white pullout table with about 30 bowls of what was supposed to be chili but resembled burnt mush. But hey, when you're hungry, anything tastes better then 3 day old McDonald's. I had to eat very very slow because I felt like I was gonna puke with every spoonful I took. The old man watched me that WHOLE time. A little messed up. It was like his whole day relied on making me feel better. I didn't know people still acted like that, but I guess they do. He gave me some old clothes when I was done. They were definitely too big, but if I put them over my regular clothes they would at least keep me warm, hopefully. I was getting ready to leave but he pulled me to the back.
"There's an old shower down the hall to your left. No guarantees on hot water, but you will feel much better. I promise."
I was choking up. Why the hell was he doing this? Did he realize who he was wasting his time on? Come on, I have fucked up my life so bad. I finally got one good thing going for me and I screw it up. Go figure.
OK, so there wasn't much hot water, but I felt almost like the old Mimi when I got out.
A/N- Yup one more chapter left, I know it's been a while (again) but I would really like some reviews. I know this story line is a little bit different, but lets face it, there's no way in hell she would have been able to survive on the streets of New York in freezing cold weather for any more then one week. Tops.