The Alley
There was no real reason to go through that alley off of Broad Street on my last night in town. But the Old Fashioneds at the bar had dimmed my judgement and it seemed like a shortcut, even though it wasn’t.
Two red brick buildings cleaved just enough space for a single vehicle to get between them. The only light was the neon reflection of the sign over the side door to the used book store.
Without that light, I would have walked right past her.
She wasn’t breathing.
I thought at first that she was another homeless person waiting for the heroin to wear off. I saw many in my short tenure as a medic. A closer look cancelled the idea.
The shape of the face and the way the auburn hair framed it gave her away.
Why did it have to be Sierra?
The paramedic instincts kicked into autopilot. No breath. Still a strong heartbeat at the carotid artery. Face not yet cyanotic. Whatever it was, it just happened. All of my training was screaming “ABC!” Airway, Breathing, Circulation. Clear the airway, get her breathing again. Now!
But I hesitated.
Ours had been an horrific parting. She had transformed from an affectionate, supportive soul to a vindictive monster. I owned part of that. I was young, stupid and wasn’t as attentive as I could…
