When I was a kid, I'd lay awake at night listening to the sirens.
Trying to figure out what they were for,
ambulances or cops, robbery or fire. just a stupid game.
But after I lost my sight,
after my abilities developed,
I realized how many sirens there actually were.
how much this city suffered every single night.
The sirens,
the pain,
the fear,
all, strangling Hell's Kitchen.
For years, I buried my head and turned away.
Then one night I heard it.
- Heard what?
A little girl crying in her bed,
in a building down the block.
Her father liked to go to her room late at night, when his wife was asleep.
- Oh, shit.
I called Child Services.
-like you're supposed to.
But the mom wouldn't believe it.
Said it wasn't true.
And the dad was smart.
He made sure what he did,
how he did it, didn't leave a mark.
The law couldn't do anything to help that little girl.
But I could.
He spent the next month in a hospital,
eating through a straw.
And I never slept better.
