<span style="color: #FF80FF"> <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Lea Stevens</div></span></span> </span><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/036e0d3a-b28c-47ec-b858-0eaea6c67e4d.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF80FF"><div style="text-align: center;">"Jazz"</div></span></span></span><br/><br/>Lea's nightmares were pretty common place, but sometimes they were worse than others. Especially when she was stressed more than usual.<br/><br/>She was reliving the same night from all those years ago, every excruciating detail. She could not move or do anything to stop the events--the only thing she could do was say no repeatedly, and even that did nothing.<br/><br/>She watched as the same faceless man came into her home, the blast of the gun going off twice in quick succession as she watched her son and husband fall.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"No!!"</span>a scream tore through her throat and she shot up in a sitting position. She clutched her chest for a moment, sobs shaking her frame. She forgot where she was and who she was with, too busy reliving her grief.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"My baby...my baby..."</span>she cried into her hands,<span style="color: #FF80FF">"I'm sorry..."</span><br/><br/>It was difficult to continue living when her nightmares plagued her so viciously. Before she had shot the kid, she had been healing. She hadn't had her nightmares so much, she had started to feel better. But after that day, it was like the pain had returned tenfold. If the cop from narcotics hadn't taken her out, she would have been okay, but she had felt the effects of them---had felt the way they let her forget...and she was gone.<br/><span style="color: #FF80FF"><br/>"I want my baby..." </span>she was rather hysterical in her emotions, her body aching and shivering. Her fever high enough to make her feel as if she were waking in the hospital to the news all over again.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"Where's John? My husband, I need my husband..."</span>she said to no one. She struggled to untangle herself from the covers, fully intending to go search for her ghosts.