God it was cold. 

***** cold for this side of California. 

Shane pulled her arms into the hoodie she stole from the Church Shelter.  Her hand was still swollen, but she could move all her fingers so it wasnt broken.  Her stomach growled and ached.  She hadnt eaten in three days; she hadnt had a John so she was broke, and not that she could give a proper hand job any more anyhow.  She was staying away from her usual corner at night, not wanting a run in with the ***** bashers looking for more fun.  Her stomached growled again, and she debated about giving it up for a few bucks, just enough to get something to eat. Noshe couldnt do thatever.  She pulled her knees to her chest, and leaned against the wall, she watched the cars drive by, her stomach aching too much to let her sleep.  GodIm such a ***** up?  Shane bitterly spat at the wind.  I never thought things could get worse than before, but I managed to really funk it all up.  How the ***** am I going to make out of this one?  Shane felt her self starting to cry, but not a single tear fell, her body too dehydrated to make them.  Still the weeping drained her and she finally felt herself give into a deep sleep.