Purely Fiction: "What the rain washes away"

The rain pounds on the hood of the car as we sit there and all in unison stare at the front door of the house. We're on a hill, the bottom of it is starting to flood, it's been raining for days now. We know whats on the other side of the door, were dreading walking in. The note was ominous, angry, and the demands we're impossible. We don't have any money, we don't have small bills, all we have are guns, and the desire to take back whats ours. To me it's everything, the last thing I have left to care about, the only person I ever cared about. Jake jars me from my thoughts.

-Let's do this, it's only worse if we wait. My daughter is behind that door, and I'm done waiting.

Jake is about two inches taller than me standing at an intimidating six feet tall, about two hundred pounds of muscle. A manual laborer, steel worker his whole life. A five o'clock shadow thats been growing for three days and a desperate look in his eyes tells me he's jumpy. He's worried. He's angry.

His son sits in the back seat behind me in the back seat of the car. He's nervous, keeps loading and unloading the .38 Smith revolver he has. Clicking over and over again as if the next time he does it the chambers will be empty. I sit there, expressionless, smoking a cigarette and just waiting, my Beretta nestled in the small of my back, a mini-Glock strapped to my ankle. I have a Ka-Bar in my hand, I clean the dirt from under my nails as I watch the kid on the porch with an uzi under his coat just stand there and look at the rain as it falls. He's young, undisciplined, stupid. He should be checking cars, the perimeter. I watch, and I smoke, and I wait.

-Both of you need to calm down. We have to wait for the one on the porch to walk around the house again.

Just as I say that he starts walking off the Porch. I open the car door slowly and say something quietly over my shoulder.

-Wait till you see me to run across.

I duck out of the car, the rain falls in sheets on my black shirt. I feel my jeans begin to soak as I quietly slink to the corner of the house and tuck into a shadow, my boots making little noise as I hit the wet grass. I stand and wait.

I hear him walking close, I see him appear in front of me, rain is streaming down my face. I take a deep breath and lunge forward, one hand covering his mouth as I jerk him toward me and in a fluid, reflex like motion I draw the blade quickly across his throat. My hand unclamps and grabs the Uzi before he can, as he drops to his knees, a silent gurgling scream emanating from his lips as he falls to the ground. The rain washes the blood off my hands and the blade, I feel it seep through my clothes, warm and sticky. I shiver and take another deep breath, then I walk forward into the light and wave at the car.

We're all crouching next to the porch now. Jake's eyes light up as he sees the kid's body, he heaves in breath, I can tell his confidence just went up. His son is breathing quickly as he stares at the body, terror in his eyes. I whisper to him.

-You stay out here and watch in case they make it past us. Ok?

Relief is all over his face as I say that. I'm not about to make a killer out of this kid. Not tonight.
Me and Jake scurry onto the porch, the Baretta in my hand, a Colt .45 in his. We crouch on opposite sides of the door and I close my eyes for a moment.

I think about Julie and all the things she knows about me, and how much she loves me anyway. I think about what Father Alonzo said about love, and what we sacrifice to protect it. I think about what's expected of me. How little. I remember how I used to think all of this, my life, was just a bad dream I was waiting to wake up from before I met her. I think about what it will be like when she's gone.

Then I open my eyes and without a word I kick in the door, raise my gun, and drill a round into the head of the first person I see.

Chaos ensues. He goes down and I dive onto a nearby table and pull it down with me, using it as cover. There are three more of them in the room, spraying their guns from behind a couch at anything they can. Jake stays behind the door jamb and just fires wildly into the room. I pop up, fire a round through the couch, and drop to my stomach again. I hear something fall, a gun, then a body. I leap over the table this time, firing two round bursts at the couch, catching one of them in the shoulder and the other in the neck. These guys are thugs, they don't have experience, they don't do what I do for a living.

I stand and drop a clip, simultaneously slamming a fresh one home. I scan the room, nothing. Thats when I hear it, as Jake steps in there's a low mumble from a door, and it opens. A man holding a gun to Julie's temple appears, seemingly from the basement. Her hands are duct taped in front of her, her face is bruised and battered, her eyes meet mine and tear's instantly form. I train my sights on his head and wait. He speaks as he sees the barrel of the Baretta fix on one of his eyes.

-Well I'll take this as a sign you didn't get the money?

I tighten my grip.

-Look, give her to me and call it a day. My last offer, I'm either leaving here with her or you're leaving in a big black bag.

He smiles and puts his face close to hers, he licks her cheek and looks me dead in the eye.

-No one moves, no one moves and no one gets hurt. If no one opens their mouth again we may all walk out of here. Ok sweetie?

She just winces and nods, tears flowing down her face. I feel my chest tighten, I feel like dropping my gun and ripping him apart with my bare hands.

-The only reason I'm keeping you alive honey is because you're a bargaining chip..

He looks right back to me again, dead stare into my eyes.

-And so I have something pretty to look at while I tear what you love apart..

His gun swings from her head toward me, it never makes it all the way as I pull the trigger. About halfway a bullet tears through his forehead and blows the back of his skull onto the wall behind him. Julie screams and falls to the ground. Jake runs forward to grab her, I lower my gun to my left and fire three rounds into the guy I hit in the shoulder. He was trying to reload his Mac-10 as the other guy was swinging his gun forward. Jake and Julie jump again and Julie screams as I fire.

I look at Julie as her father cuts the duct tape from her hands, I'm covered in blood, my breathing slow and steady. She looks into my eyes and I know. I know she realizes it now, she sees me for what I've become. She knows she loves me, she loves a monster. This came so easily to me, I never flinched, never raised my voice, my hands don't shake. This was a slaughter, it was second nature to me.

Nothing new....

Just a favorite song at the moment.

"Richard Wagner's letters to his lover Mathilde were a mess
He should have quit before he had written the address
They made love on the mezzanine her husband was his friend
Vienna in a fugue-state working on a thing
That when he finished it took almost seven hours to sing
He still found time to write to her his heart-exploding words
Our love surpassed our love so fast
Our love's all wrong our love goes on and on
Our love became our love by name when I wrote it to you in a song
Our love goes on and on
Our love our love
Kafka in his letters to his lover Milena was alive
But he was waiting for a love that never would arrive
Their rendezvous was singular her husband was his friend
She is a living fire she is a reason to live
She is killing me burning only for him
I'll spend my whole life loving her my heart exploding words
Our love surpassed our love so fast
Our love's all wrong our love goes on and on
Our love became our love by name when I wrote it to you in a song
Our love goes on and on
Our love our love our love our love
Our love surpassed our love so fast
Our love's all wrong our love goes on and on
Our love became our love by name when I wrote it to you in a song
Our love goes on and on our love our love
Our love our love our love our love our love"
-Rhett Miller

Trouble in Triplicate

A big part of my job in the ER revolves around the mindless paperwork, everyone's does actually. Every i dotted and t crossed, dosages and labwork, scans and all. Everything is documented endlessly, every god damn thing. This is all part of the larger bureaucracy that is the American medical system. Everything has a protocol, everything must be regimented. There is a form for absolutely everything, right? Well tonight I learned that despite the checks and balances in place meant to protect us, the healthcare workers, and the patients things can fall apart.

It started like every other shift I suppose. I walked in through the ambulance bay and stopped at the main ER nurses station to sign in when I was told they were overstaffed on accident. A clerical oversight, ironically, started my night. I wound up getting sent to the Pediatric ER which is a separate area altogether. It's not my first choice but I was there and I wanted to get paid, so I grumbled and walked over.

As I walked down the hall, it was lined with overflow stretchers. Non-critical patients and ones with one to one sits. I was dragging my feet, looking around from behind my aviators, searching my bag with one hand for a redbull when I stopped dead in my tracks. To my right was a man, thirty or so, thrashing about in his restraints with a PCA sitting next to him nonchalantly reading US weekly. What stopped me was what he was rambling about.

-Fucking TWAT! She's USING HIM! She uses them all! SHEEP I SAY SHEEP! She's not hurt! She's the wolf leading them to the slaughter! She HAS TO BE STOPPED!

I dropped my bag and picked up the chart. I laughed to myself as I read his psyche work up, it was God's awful sense of humor. Apparently his wife was sneaking around his back with his friend, he found out and kicked her out. According to him she then began to tell his friends, office mates, and who ever would listen that he was, in the patient's own words, "An abusive prick."
He then after a month proceeded to try and stab both her and his old buddy, and failed when the buddy knocked him out with a good left hook. I shook my head and smirked as I read and when I was finished I put the chart down and looked the guy in the eyes.

-I understand dude, really I do.

I looked at this guy who would be going to jail once the doctors said it wasn't a schizoid break and looked up to the ceiling, imagining God up there laughing his ass off at his own joke. I knew it was the start of a good day.

I moved on down the hall and dropped my bag at the desk in the Ped's ER. I took off my glasses and took in the scene, only five patients. It was a beautiful sight. So I sat down and drank my redbull and bullshit with the nurses and attendings there, waiting for bloodwork to come back and admission orders. It was laid back, a serious change of pace. I started to think that the night might not be too bad. Fool, I'm always such a fool.

Eight O'clock at night was about the time things went south, way south. The loudspeakers overhead roared to life suddenly.

-Two Adult Level One Trauma's in the Main ED. Two Level Two Pediatric Trauma's in the Pediatric ER.

I blinked, looked around, and in a second we were on our feet getting the trauma beds ready. Code carts, surgeons, a team, intubation boxes, drugs, kits of all sorts, making sure CT scan was open and OR's were cleared, getting blood ready and setting up rapid transfusers, this is what we scramble to do when trauma's are rolling.

I finished up doing the code cart checklist and walked out to the ambulance bay, watching the adult trauma team doing the same. I grabbed a few pairs of gloves and a gown on my way out. I walked through the doors and felt the muggy night hit me like a bag of bricks, checked my watch, five minutes out now according to the charge nurse. I fired up a Marlboro and watched the street, waiting to see the lights, hear the tires squeal and the wail of ambulance sirens. All I saw were streetlights, a few drunks, and all I heard myself sucking on my cigarette. By the time I finished a few more people had joined me awaiting the arrival of our customers, out blood pumping, anticipation and fear fueling us.

Then our hearts jumped as we saw the red and white lights in the distance. They grew and the wail started getting louder, we could see two, no three, no now four of them barreling down the road like bats out of hell. They all came tear assing through the small roads in the hospital complex in single file and came backing up so fast into the bay one after the other I was sure one of them would pop the curb and hit us.

I'd have been so lucky.

Then the doors swung open and out jumped paramedics, like infantry from an APC they hit the ground and pulled their patient's out, us listening to their reports as they did and tunning with the gurneys through the ambulance bay. The adults were husband and wife, car accident, ugly. I'm not sure what their faces looked like before hitting a telephone pole at a great rate of velocity, but right now they looked like red misshapen puddles with eyes and a mouth, glass, debris, and intubation tubes sticking out of them. They were dead on arrival but the teams tried for the sake of the other two patients we had.

The pediatric patients I was following looked good. A few cuts, the older boy seemed to possibly have a broken arm, but they were intact, in one piece, alive. We got them in and people ran around them like a swarm of bees. Drawing bloods, ordering scans, external examinations, asking questions, seeing if anyone was home. No one was it seemed. They're external injuries were minor compared to the apparent mental ones. They were shell shocked, white as ghosts, flinching, eyes wide with terror. The smaller one was a four year old girl, blond hair, light complexion, big scared green eyes. I walked over to her after sending the vials of blood to the lab to be tested for the usual trauma panel and touched her hand. She flinched and looked up at me in horror. I tried to smile, and moved my hand to hers again, and spoke in the softest voice I could muster.

-Hey there. Are you ok? Can you tell me your name? My name is Joe, and I'm here to help you. I want to make sure you're ok, and thats what all these people are here for too.

Her eyes were still wide as saucers as she looked at me, her mouth open but no words coming out. Almost like a silent scream no one but you can hear. I just kept holding her small, cold hand. I kept looking at her and smiling as the people around me tended to her small lacerations. One required a few stitches and when they went to anesthetize the area she flinched and squeezed my hand, screaming she looked up and said her name. She begged for me to tell them to stop touching her booboo, to just leave her alone. I kept smiling and squeezed her hand tight as I tried to distract her, asking her name, what day it was, what her favorite color was. Before she knew it the stitches were done and by this time the boy behind me, her fifteen year old brother, was X-Rayed, splinted and cast for a small break in his radius. They both began to talk to us and the little girl said something I was not prepared for, something that totally would change my mission for the night once more.

-Where's my brother?

I blinked. I smiled. I replied.

-Right next to us, kiddo. Right behind me. You see him, right?

She shook her head with a curious look in her eyes.

-Thats my OLDER brother. I mean MY brother.

I blinked again. I didn't get it till her older brother chimed in.

-She has a twin, he was in the car too. Do you know where he is? Is he here? Is he ok?

I spun around and tried to keep smiling. His face was pained and confused, I didn't want to give up the ghost, the worst answer was the truth. I had no idea, and the faces of the doctors and nurses around me told me they were in the same boat as me.

This was bad. So what was I to do? Paperwork, there had to be paper work. I calmly walked out of the room and went to the nurses station, picked up the chart for the little girl, and shuffled through the pages desperately. All I found that was useful was the ambulance PCR. It was all I needed though. There was a fifth ambulance on scene, it was a private paramedic company from a nearby hospital. Sure enough I called that ER and found that the kid was brought there since that hospital was about the same distance from the accident as us. There was a miscommunication on the scene and he wound up there, alone. I called the main ER and spoke to the charge nurse, the parents were dead. Now the problem got worse.

Here's the issue. When a patient comes in as a certified and leveled trauma after they are stable they are admitted to the trauma surgeon on call's service and becomes his patient. Coming in as a trauma requires a battery of expensive tests and physician's consults. So with the other kid over there, after this much time, being admitted there really is no medically pertinent reason to transfer him here. So began the barrage of phone calls.

I sat there for three hours, and with the help of the pediatric ER attending I spoke to and reasoned with every hospital administrator there and in my hospital. My argument? These kids' aunt and uncle were the closest relatives they had and wouldn't be there for a day as they had to fly in. For the time being, all they had were eachother. So I fought. I fought for hours, tooth and nail on the phone. I kept trying to figure out the combination of existing protocol and policy that could deal with this situation that had never even been fathomed.

Finally at midnight I struck paydirt and the transfer was approved. By now the kids knew what had happened and it had been arranged for them to be put in the only three bed room on the entire pediatric floor. Finally at one in the morning the ambulance came in, I took the wheelchair and the copy of the chart and hurried him inside. The pediatric hospitalist had already accepted the third kid to his service, the only thing wrong with him was a concussion that had already been cleared by neurology in the other hospital.

After going through the preliminary admission process I wheeled him upstairs, and quietly into the room. It was dark, only light coming from the muted TV. I could see the older brother lying on his side, tear soaked pillow, he had been staring at his little sister who was sleeping soundly. Just looking at the way he watched her, you could tell he felt the weight of responsibility being the oldest. He laid there and kept watch over her, he'd die before he let something else happen to her. I quietly picked up the four year old and sat him on the bed with his brother, they both smiled and hugged eachother. The little sister woke up and smiled too having seen her brother again. The room itself was littered with coloring books, crayons, and kiddie books. The little ones really wouldn't understand that their parents were gone till it dawns on them in the next few days. It's hard for a four year old to grasp that.

I backed out of the room slowly as they reunited and was looking at the nurses outside start to cry as I stopped again, dead in my tracks. My blood ran cold as ice and a tear welled in my eye as I heard the girls little voice say something in the softest tone.

-If mommy and daddy can't read us to sleep who can?

-I can guys, get into your beds and I'll read the Dr.Seuss one the nurses got you.

I turned around to watch this fifteen year old kid, who a few hours ago lost his whole life, regain his composure and read a bed time story. He swallowed his pain, he dried his tears and steadied his voice, and he read in a soothing tone, glancing at them and giving a reassuring smile as he did. He knew himself it was a lie, but he was lying to protect them. From now on he'd be the one that had to protect them and in that moment I believe I saw a child grow into a man of sorts.

It broke my heart.

I walked down to the ER quietly and packed my bag. I got a few pats on the back from the nurses and doctors, but none of us smiled. Today was a draw, no one won, everyone lost.

"I've lost more sleep than I can say
And blurred the lines between the days
Pour myself another cup
Put one out light another up
My mind's stopped making any sense
I've lost track of the present tense
Don't wanna leave, don't wanna stay
I'd kill to bring back yesterday
Folded up and left for dead
The things I wish I would've said
The times I should've turned and run
But the damage was already done
And I dug myself a deeper hole
Raked myself over the coals
Reason brings redemption
But redemption won't be mind

Suppressed my frustation
But it returned
Lost in the translation
I'm not concerned
Smoke 'em if you got 'em
'Cause we're never gonna learn
And dance upon the ashes of this world

Got hours more and miles to go
I feel the clock begin to slow
Play the hand that I was dealt
By the enemy that is myself
If I don't get out from under this
I might never know what I fucking missed
I'm at the breaking point
But don't know where to draw the line

I'm ticking like a fucking bomb
Had the best of intentions
My resolve outlasts my apprehensions
Won't be the first time
Not gonna be the last
I looked ahead through bleary eyes
And wondered what was left
Wondered will I pass the test

I've lost myself and found myself
And then I lost it all again

It comes down to me in the end
The more I know
The less I comprehend
It comes down to me in the end"

-Dillinger Four

Movin' and Groovin'...

Not much to really report from either front. My grandmother was hospitalized last night but it doesn't seem serious and I still await the reports from the various tests being run. Tox RP wise is dead for me since I've spent a few days away but I'm starting to get back into the groove of things today. ::shrugs:: Uneventful few days, intersting night last night but thats another story not worth repeating. Had class this morning and will have it again tomorrow. Thats about it for today I suppose.

"Proud of my life and the things that I have done
Proud of myself and the loner I’ve become
You’re free to whine, it will not get you far
I do just fine, my car and my..
Guitar, guitar go!

I drift, drift, drift, drift, drift, yeah
I drift, drift, drift, drift, drift, yeah oh

And I am done with this
I wanna taste the breeze of every great city
My car and my guitar
My car and my guitar
So you'll come to be, made of these urges unfulfilled
Oh no, no, no, no, no
When I'm dead I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, lay still
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest"
-Say Anything
"Admit it"

Car crashes and second chances...scenes from a trauma center

I'm standing in my backyard.
It seems to be raining and my friends are all standing there.
I'm really not sure what is going on, and I feel like I don't want to.
My best friend Jason walks up to me and starts talking.
His hands are on fire and his voice is blaring loud.
I don't know what he's saying until he grabs me and screams into my ears.
-Level One Pediatric Trauma in the ER

My head flies up and I nearly fall off my chair.
I blink, my eyes focus.
It's 3:30 am in the ER, FDNY Paramedics just gave notification of an incoming MVA.
The loud speakers blare for the trauma team to haul ass.
I'm sitting at the nurses station, charts piled around me, I was sleeping on a few of them.
I can taste Marlboro's and coffee in my mouth and my muscles ache as I rise from the chair.
I see the gurney crash through the ambulance bay doors as I round the corner.
My feet pick up pace now, I'm sprinting.
I fly around the corner and through the doors of the trauma bay.
Doctors and nurses are scrambling, meds are flying everywhere. Beeps and buzzers go off to a manic rhythm.
My head is spinning.
In the center of it all is a child, not much older than then years old, lifeless, chest barely rising to gulp in air.
I'm putting on gloves, I feel my heart trip hammers, my body goes into autopilot.
I'm screaming, I'm running, vials of blood in my hand, meds in my pockets being thrown left and right.
The crash cart slams against a wall, I threw it there. I didn't realize when they asked for it I'd thrown it so hard.
I'm screaming into a phone, ordering the doctors' needs. CT scans, X-Rays, an OR.
My heart skips a beat.
The buzzers stop, the beeps cease. Only a loud and steady squeal. Then the scream comes.
I was hoping it wouldn't.
I was hoping for a happy ending.
I had hope.
I'm a fool, such a fool.
-ASYSTOLE! PUSH THE EPI!
The room is alive, pure energy.
I'm stepping back, they all move swiftly.
A voice echoes in my head, my own.
-Hell is here. Hell is now.

I've got nothing else to do but watch in horror as it all unfolds.
Screaming, pumping, pushing, grabbing all around.
It's a bleed. Hypovolemic shock. Blood hangs. It pumps.
It pumps.
The monitor beeps.
I snap out of it. I pick up the phone.
I'm screaming
-She's stable, we're in CT in 60 seconds, be ready for us cause we're flying. Straight to the OR after.
I hang up and nod, they're rolling.

It's 6:30 am. I'm back at the nurses station filing charts and putting in orders for bloodwork.
An attending is drilling a resident on reason for seizure due to toxicological reasons.
She looks up, I can almost see the little people running around her head. Opening filing cabinets, desperately searching for the answers.
I speak up in a quiet voice
-Camphor, snake venom, and Methanol are a few of the exotic ones.
The resident's jaw drops.
The attending grins.
-Very good, very very good. See?
He points to me.
-He's just a premed student and he knows a few. You've got some reading to do.
The resident scurries off with a scowl and the attending sits next to me, looking through his patient list.
-Ya' know, for an ER clerk you were pretty impressive in the trauma tonight. You've got potential.
-I'm just doing what has to get done, Boris. Just what has to get done.
He smiles and starts admitting paperwork, I pick up the phone and yell at the tech's at the statlab.
It's late and we're all tired but they're the statlab and I'm the ER. It's the dance we always dance.

I walk out finally at 7:15 am.
The ambulance bay is empty and the morning crew is filing in.
I put on my sunglasses as the rays hit my eyes and light a smoke.
I smile and nod to the morning crew as I walk to my car, and I scream the lyrics of a song on repeat all the way home.

Now I'm here...and that was my night. Another night in the ER.

" I've watched you all succeed with the highest marks in greed
From my cave, where you're displayed like photographs that bleed
And my teeth grind names into their ivory membranes.
I am hate everlasting with each sickly spell I'm casting.

I discard all feelings.
The stars scar my ceiling.
Sun, I won't spare you. Moon, I won't spare you.

And my pain is mine. It's become my friend with time.
Chia-like, it grows. Watch it fester for my foes.
One day, I'm gonna get up and get right back into the city with my flamethrower mouth.
You bet your life it won't be pretty.

I discard all my feelings.
As the stars still scar my ceiling (oh)
I won't spare you. (Whoa) I, I won't spare you.

Photograph (bath), photograph (bath), photograph
Why'd you have to go and take a picture of a life like that?
You aren't new enough. I give up, I give up, I give up on you.

Look at you (you), look at you (you), look at you (you).
Pretty boy floating face down in a pond of glue.
You aren't new enough. We give up, we give up, we give up on all those like you.

I discard all feelings.
The stars scar my ceiling.
(Whoa) I won't spare you. (Whoa) I, I won't spare you.

(Won't spare you, won't spare you, won't spare you, I won't spare you)
I shall grow and grow...
I'll grow."
-Say Anything
"Chia like I shall grow"

When things fall apart.

So I'm starting this to document my adventures in Toxia, SL, and RL. To shed light on my true existence I guess. At the moment, I'm on my own but things are good. I've found where I belong I suppose. My friends have rallied around me and given me a reason to stick around, and in RL I've reconnected with an on and off flame. Hmmm. Thats all I think I'll say for now. I've got work in two hours so I need to get ready for a long night. I'll leave you with...my favorite song at the moment.

" The ties that bind can gag and I'm bound by boundless insignificance.
Set yourself on fire if you can't feel this burn.
Did you run out of ink so soon?
Let my roots be my guide - and my heart as my eyes.
This light will lead you home.
There's not enough apathy in my soul: my heart refuses to grow cold.
Just remember - you could fake this feeling forever.
Nothing is sacred where hearts aren't beating
(Where is your spine?)...
If my dreams must die, let them die in me,
For the sake of understanding what I could not see.
For what I'll never say, for what I'll never be: this was never for you, it was always for me.
You'll never see: We're just flesh after all."
-Quantice Never Crashed "Lighthouses"