I’ve seen violence before. But this? This feels different. The blood on the ground, the chaos echoing in my ears, the screams still lingering in the air. Bodies, everywhere. People just going about their day, caught in something they never asked for. And I was right in the middle of it. But the job doesn’t stop. It never does. I keep walking, trying to breathe through it. Trying to get my mind back to something functional. One step at a time. That’s all I can do right now.

When I spot you. My colleague, standing just off to the side, almost like you are waiting for something. Or maybe waiting for nothing. I don’t know… But I need something.

"Got a cigarette?" I ask, my voice sounding almost too calm. Too flat. You look at me, seeing the weight I’m carrying, and just hand me one.

I light it, my hand steady even though my head is anything but. The smoke fills my lungs, and for a split second, it feels like I can breathe. My head clears just a little. I exhale slowly, staring out at the mess.