I've been a 911 dispatcher for about three years now.

I don't know how my life eventually led me to work in this field, but somehow it happened.

As you can probably imagine, it is not the best job to have.

The pay is not great at all, and it is definitely not worth the emotional roller coaster that comes

with it.

I cannot tell you how many sleepless nights I've had due to what I hear on the other line.

Most of my calls aren't too bad, mostly minor domestic disputes and armed robbery reports.

But on rare occasions, I would get a disturbing call describing

a murder scene or something along those lines. The calls with kids were also some of the

worst, but one call sticks out, and it happened only a few weeks ago. I live in a decently

small town, so crime is not a big issue, but I guess that is why whenever

I get a call about a murder or grisly crime, it hits worse emotionally.

All calls get to me, but not as much as the serious ones do.

I'm not saying only some are serious and some aren't, but you get the point.

A few nights ago, I got a call at about 11.30 p.m. I don't usually work overnight, but one of my coworkers was out sick.

So I volunteered for a double shift, as my boss would pay me overtime if I did so.

I'm just sitting at my desk, daydreaming about whatever when I get the call.

I brace myself and answer.

This is what was said.

911.

What is your emergency?

God, please help me.

...