Today was just like any other day. I went to work at my job as a journalist. My boss handed out the assignments and said that she wanted them by 2:00. Just like I usually do, I went down to lunch at 12:00. While I was carrying my lunch back to my desk I tripped. As I fell, my food fell out of my hands, and I expected to fall to the ground too, but someone caught me. I looked up and saw that it was a guy I worked with. He smiled and helped me up. I salvaged what I could from my lunch, and walked to the elevator. We both had to go to the same floor so he pushed the button. When the doors closed I suddenly felt something coming up. Panic. “Not again”, I thought. My breath was coming quicker now. My coworker asked me if I was okay, but I didn’t hear him. All I could hear was the screaming. My mom and dad. The day they died. I was stuck, stuck again in that car. Stuck between the seats. Blood was everywhere. Sirens, flashing lights. I was sitting on the floor of the elevator. My coworker was holding me. The doors opened and he called for help. Sirens again. Just like that night. My coworker stayed with me the whole time. When the paramedics had finally calmed me down, my coworker drove me home. When I had finally assured him that I was okay, he left. The next day was Saturday so I didn’t go to work. On Monday, when I did, my coworker gave me his phone number and said, “dinner tonight”? “Yes” I said. And that was that.