The sound of someone falling to a concrete floor. It was akin to that of a sandwich board shutting and hitting the ground. She had been standing just two feet away. When I saw her lying there, with friends and so many others surrounding her, tears welled up in my eyes. I recalled the time months ago when I got the call from the hospital that C had experienced a similar situation. “Someone call 911,” I said, a little bit desperate that no one was really reacting with urgency. I wasn’t carrying my phone as I’d stepped out of the office for a break. The girl was alert albeit stunned, even raising her own head to accommodate the scarves that were being placed underneath it. A man, an ex-paramedic, checked her vitals, and said out loud that she should have some water. I wasn’t carrying much of anything on me. In the meantime, the man on the phone with the emergency service was trying to provide an address of the building, and it made me recall my supervisor saying how tedious it was for her to call 911 - in that their list of questions was exhaustive. I walked away from the crowd, feeling shook about what I’d witnessed - the girl looked like me and I couldn’t stop thinking about C hitting his head on that drugstore counter, biting his tongue so hard, and being unconscious for too many moments.