Chapter 1 Burn out
Do you feel it? The need to help everybody else but yourself? The gut reaction to bleed your heart out instead of protecting your circulation. You have no survival extinct, you want to protect everyone. You never cared about what happened to you.
The sound of the most obnoxious alarm wails in my partially working ears. I slam my fist into my pillows, drowsy, and angry at the world as I always start my mornings. I manage to desperately get out of my bed and hit snooze on my alarm. I lie back in bed regretting ever being born. Please just ten more minutes. The alarm goes off again.
"Fuck okay, I'm awake... I'm awake!" I shout at the worlds most hated object.
I drag my exhausted self to the bathroom to take my morning piss, brush my teeth, and scrape the junk out of my swollen eyes. My eyes are still puffy from the tears I wept to fall asleep. I stare at myself in the mirror longer than I normally do. My thinning salt and pepper hair a mess from the war I fought in my sleep. A puffy round face with vampire skin. Hazel eyes trying to break through my beaten up eyelids. I'm only 25 and I look like I've lived the life a well aged 50 year old. A sigh leaves my body like a war cry.
"Okay, only 24 hours... I hope," I beg myself to find an ounce of motivation to continue on.
I continue to get ready for work, grabbing coffee, toasting some bread, and playing with the sunshine of my life. A little black fur ball that shadows me named Taffy. Taffy is a cat we had rescued from the station dumpster. I couldn't believe someone was bold enough to dump an old cat in a dumpster right in front of the EMS station. Seeing the little triangle ears and bold black eyes, my heart just couldn't say no to taking in this little bundle of hope. She reminds me why I keep going back to this soul sucking job.
I struggle to get my uniform on, only wanting to crawl back into bed and to not see the tragedies people can endure.
"I'm off to work Taffy," the morning strain still stains my voice as I talk to the only thing that looks forward to my presence.
Taffy answers in a drawn out wail that reminds me I forgot to give her cat breakfast. I scramble to open the can and set it on the kitchen floor before I burst out my front door. The rain sharpens my skin as I make my way to my black, beaten down, early 2000's truck. What a duo we are, just two souls trying to keep replacing parts until the reaper makes his move.
My pockets are full of snacks, nicotine pouches, pens, and whatever else you put in your purse, making it difficult to find my keys. After juggling odd items I hear the jingle and feel the cold sharp edges of metal. I lock my hand onto the violent object. Two beeps and latches relieving themselves I make it in my vehicle. It almost feels colder inside my truck than it does outside. I crank on the heat and start blaring EDM music to help rattle my brain in place. I commit a heinous act towards my truck and began driving without warming up my engine. I am living the dream.
