It’s 5am and my appointment is at 8am. Bus 9 is right before bus 22, which is the one I need. It is always running late. It’s been raining all night, and the streets are now nothing but reflections of the day’s chaos. The wind is atrocious at times. I have a stall to wait in, but it only blocks so much. My heavy rain coat with the wool lining is performing wonderfully under pressure as the temperature has only come up to 40 degrees so far. My coffee is keeping my hands from turning into icicles, and my boots are insulating my walkers. I am not comfortable but I am not unfortunate either. I would usually read right about now, but it is too damp and the pages would soak. I look around as the rain lightens up a bit to a mild drizzle. Across the way under a sheltering tree is a young girl. I can’t see her face, but if she were to look up I would never know she was crying. She has blonde hair that doesn’t seem to be brushed. Her blouse is thin and wet, barely covering her shivering torso. She has pulled her knees up and is holding them close to her body, letting me in on her shame. Not a day older than 16, she has just fought the battle even an older woman couldn’t walk away from unscathed. I grab my umbrella out of my satchel and decided to find out her name. I walk over to her and lightly rest my hand on her shoulder. She flinches abruptly and shouts out for help. I wasn’t sure how to react, but she quickly settled that issue when she stood up and said “please help me…I’ve been raped”. “My name is Natalie” I reply, and I took her over to the bus stop shelter…..