The flashing red light of the phone blinds you. Tonight is like any other night working at 1-800-Suicide. This job is your life. You come here to help the starving souls through the use of a telephone. You are a savior, a god. Tonight one mysterious man calls. He breaths into the phone but says not a word. This is what you've been waiting for all night. This is why you do what you do. Ten seconds later you call him back. He answers but again no voice. You listen closely hoping to hear that breathing. There is a click. You know instantly what's coming but there is nothing you can do to stop it. There is silence. Trent, your boss, has been watching you closely and will take this opportunity to threaten your job. Your coworkers will look up from their senseless doodles and use this to talk to you. Doesn't matter. They don't know everything. Ace and Phil watch as you brush your hair from your eyes. Doesn't matter. Bernard can use the good book to confess his true feelings for you. Doesn't matter. Trent can yell and scream at you. Doesn't matter. What matters are the callers and in a few minutes your one and only will call. He has a gun in his mouth and he wants to see someone. A house call, this is why you do what you do.