Jenlisa Drabbles

There are Weirder Ways to Learn About Death

AN: I know the title may seem like it's angst. I promise it isn't. Not to me anyways. I found this title off of Pinterest and figured this'll make a really cute prompt so I hope you guys enjoy. Stay safe everyone. Much love <3

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Lisa figures it was part of the job, that's honestly the worst way to say it. Like it's something that's unimportant. In the grand scheme of things maybe it was–others would argue that maybe it wasn't. Who was she to know? She never had the chance, never really had the opportunity to think through it, feel it, it's something reduced to a mere job requirement. Something you'd be familiar with, forced into if she wants to be specific and maybe that's the reason why she's so detached to the thought of it all. Of course ... now was a far different matter entirely, not when she realizes there are weirder ways to learn about death.

Her first ever brush with death was when she was already five months into the job. It was messy, a car crash along the dark, slippery road. A guy, still holding on to his phone when he was extracted from the crumpled piece of metal that was once his car. She'd be lying right now if she said it didn't affect her in any way. First experiences always hold a special place in one's heart, right? You're taught one thing in training and experience another on the field. It was like that. Suddenly thoughts of what-ifs, why's, the how's, everything comes flooding in and for a brief moment you wonder–what if it was someone you knew, what if he was speeding back home in time for dinner? What if... what if... But the truth of the matter is that, you don't really have the privilege nor the time to think through the answers. You're expected to move and to think in split second decisions to keep them from dying.

It seems like, if she thinks about it more, it's two months later that she finds out what death is really like.

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It's odd.

Yes, that's the first thing that comes to mind when she sees her there. Standing. Looking.

Odd.

Not that she isn't accustomed to audiences, nor crowds. In fact it's one of the things she has learned to deal with.

"Lisa! Did you hear what I said?"

"Huh?"

Chaeyoung gives her a quick scathing look that brings her back to where she was. Pulls her where she's needed and not... drowning in someone else's brown eyes that did more than just reflect the flames from the burning building.

"We're not getting any pulse at all."

There it was.

"Time of death, 11:52pm"

It takes Lisa another brief second to grab the report and log in what her fellow responder just muttered, minus the curses that follow and the almost tears from the blonde.

"God, she's the second one..."

Lisa doesn't really register that one. Not sure if Chaeyoung meant second victim, second body, or was it death count by now?

The smell of soot and smoke mixed with the frigid winter air worked its way deep into the filters of her mask. It makes every intake of breath uncomfortable. It stings, and by the time the fifth victim was recovered, called out and logged, zipped up in a black body bag to be sent to the hospital morgue, she couldn't tell if she was breathing in smoke or the scent of charred flesh that hung heavily in the air.

Her body worked automatically, brain programmed to move and assist even if she couldn't remember the last time she slept nor had her cup of coffee. Lisa doesn't know if it's a gift or a curse at this point, only knows that she'd been living and breathing the medic response life quite precariously.