"Bitch! Who do you think you are, bullying people!"
"Too bad your son didn't die!"
"Firefighters risk their lives! What right do you have to tell the Captain what to do!"

The waves of verbal abuse crashed over me.
The crowd was getting agitated. Someone threw a water bottle at me.
The hands restraining me trembled slightly. Michael spoke up hurriedly.
"Please, everyone, calm down! We will handle this according to regulations. Please don't get physical! NYPD is on the way!"
Despite his words, he didn't let me go.
The crowd's rage wasn't quelled by his weak attempt at de-escalation.

More phones were raised. People were live-streaming the chaos to social media.
Through the gaps in the crowd, I saw Amanda being supported by several "kind" women.
Amidst their comfort, she gracefully wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand, sobbing softly, garnering even more sympathy.
My eyes were bloodshot with rage.

I grit my teeth so hard they felt like they would shatter, but I couldn't break free from Michael's grip.
"NYPD! Back up!"
Sirens wailed. Several squad cars screeched to a halt.
Police officers began pushing the crowd back.
"Clear the area! This is an active emergency scene!"
A high-ranking fire official in a white shirt shouted through a megaphone. The crowd slowly dispersed.
"Chief Garcia?"
Seeing the man with a bandaged arm approaching, Michael finally released me.
Slap!
A heavy slap landed directly on Michael's face.