I have said before that I write to escape. That is what this chapter has been. I am sharing it with you. Why? Unless you know a fire fighter, an EMS provider, a paramedic, or a police officer, you probably don't realize how much they bring home with them. How the calls they go on affect them. They appear so tough, so strong - They have to. They are helping people in the worst moments of their lives and they do this gladly, repeatedly. It takes its toll. Those of us who love someone in these professions, we are the support system. We are their sounding board.
What about those that don't have that? What about those who only hear the hatred spouted in the media?

As I said, this chapter was an escape - a vent for me - because I needed one.

It is very emotional.

one month later

MiraBeth walked in the back door of her small home. She left her boots on the mat by the door. She put her belt on top of the dryer and began peeling her uniform into the washer. Everything; shirt, pants, socks, underwear…even the material covering for her bullet-proof vest went into the machine. Without a stitch on, MiraBeth walked through the house to the bathroom and turned the shower on as warm as she could tolerate. She scrubbed at her skin vigorously. Dropping the washcloth, she grabbed the loofah and pommeled her skin until it passed from pink to red, almost as if she had scratched through it. Tears began to pour from her eyes as her knees finally gave way sending her to the shower floor. Sobs wracked her body. Screams filled the steamy room as the stalwart police officer curled into a ball and let her emotions go.

"Have you heard from MiraBeth lately?" Vince asked Roman as they passed in the hall backstage. "How's she doing?"

"We talk regularly." Roman told his boss. "I plan on seeing her again the next time we are off."

"She wasn't on that call, was she? I heard it was bad." Vince paused to ask the large Samoan. "That would be enough to shake anyone." Roman looked at Vince blankly. "You don't know what I'm talking about."

"I've been in the gym and with Creative all day. Haven't heard a thing."

Vince shook his head sadly. "Tragic. So many lives." He turned and walked away, leaving Roman alone and befuddled in the hallway. Not waiting long, the big man headed for his phone to search for headlines and call the woman they had been discussing.

MiraBeth curled on her bed, clutching her pillow to her chest. Tears stained her cheeks. She tossed and turned as sleep finally claimed her but peace did not.

She had been dispatched to and accident with people trapped. The dispatcher said only one caller had reported the accident, which usually meant that the accident was minor or not really an accident. When she arrived, she keyed up her radio to report she needed multiple paramedics, ambulances, fire trucks, and additional police units. Making sure that her car blocked the road, she got out as she pulled on her rubber gloves and approached the badly mangled car. She looked inside but didn't need to touch the driver to ascertain that he was gone. Checking quickly to make sure no one else was in the car, she approached the next vehicle. MiraBeth could hear the cries as she got closer. The closer she got to the van, the fainter the cries became. Using her baton to clear away broken glass, she determined that the driver was gone. The passenger was groaning but it was the child in the backseat that caused MiraBeth to take a step back and draw in a deep breath. She told herself that she was on her own and had to keep it together. She talked to herself as she rounded the front of the car. Checking the pulse of the passenger and realizing it was weak and thready, she took this time to radio in. "Mass casualty. Send everyone including the medical examiner. Priority." As she spoke, she felt the beat under her fingers weaken. "Please hold on." she begged. She felt the head loll to the side as the beating stopped. Pulling away from the van, MiraBeth now drew a shaky breath and headed for the charter bus that was partially off the roadway leaning against two very large trees. "Someone has to get here soon." She looked to the sky. "Please." She approached the front of the bus. The only way on was through the door that was angled down towards the ground against the tree. There was a large crack that ran the length of both panes of glass. Keying up her radio, MiraBeth reported, "Occupants of both cars are priority 4 (do not need medical treatment). Making entry on the charter bus now." Finally MiraBeth heard sirens approaching. Finally she would have help in this hell that she was seeing. Carefully she stood to the side and tapped the cracked glass, listening to it shatter so she could climb in.

A shrill ringing sounded. MiraBeth pushed herself up to sit. She reached for her phone just as it stopped ringing. She swatted at the phone and headed for the kitchen to get something to drink. Then she curled up on one end of the sofa, pulling her feet under her and staring at the blank television screen. Sometime later the phone began to ring again. MiraBeth answered it without speaking.

"MiraBeth?" Silence. "Are you okay?" She did not answer him. "I guess this answers every question I have for you. You were there, it was worse than they are reporting, and you are alone."

MiraBeth's voice was trembling and hoarse as she replied. "You know a lot, Roman. Not much else to say except I am all talked out. Had a shit-load of counselors at the station. Don't really feel like talking now. Thanks for checking on me though." She disconnected the call, dropped the phone and buried her face in a pillow to sob again.

Roman looked at the phone in his hand. Whatever hell she had witnessed was eating her up from the inside. It had to have been horrendous. Counselors could give advice and listen. They had experience with this type of stuff and he didn't. No one else could wrap her in a hug and hold her; no one else could promise to be with her. Did MiraBeth have a support system? Was there anyone who would check on her? Was she alone in her memories of what she had seen? Roman jumped up and headed down the hall in search of someone. Finding Vince, he pulled the man aside. "She was there." Roman's voice broke. He held up his phone. "I got through to her once. I don't think she's going to pick up again."

Vince nodded. "Go. We will adjust the show. I owe her. Anything she needs." As Roman spun around, Vince spun him back. "ANYTHING." The two men's eyes met. Roman nodded and headed off to comfort MiraBeth, knowing that he would be battling some unknown nightmare that he was ill prepared to face.

MiraBeth could hear people crying all around her. She focused on the person in her hands. She kept the girl's head still as the paramedic put the neck brace on her. She could feel the girl's warm skin…her hair as it wrapped around her wrist.

"Shh…MiraBeth…Shh…I'm here. Wake up, hon." MiraBeth blinked up into concerned gray eyes. Long hair framed his face, hanging down to brush over her arms. Looking over his shoulder, she could tell that hours had passed since she had hung up on the man.

"What are you…"

"Shh…" He brushed his hand back over her forehead slowly. "I wasn't leaving you alone. You don't have to talk. We don't have to say anything. I'm just here. For anything. I need you to know that you aren't alone." he said, emotion heavy in his voice. When she opened her mouth again, he continued. "Your back door was unlocked. I locked it and brought some food with me. We don't have to leave." He caressed her head with one hand and touched her shoulder with the other. His gentle touch undid her again. She launched into his arms and buried into his chest, sobbing. "Let it out." he crooned, pulling her close and rubbing her back.