<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/><span style="font-style: italic">"...Damn, I had thought of you every minute of my life, I had dreamed of marriage and a family and you have backed off...I see that it was your usual escape...You always escaped, Lea....You don't want to trust me - I will make you trust me!" </span><br/><br/>At the mention of marriage and family, Lea froze up, unwilling to let her mind entertain that idea. She did want another marriage, didn't want another child. Not right now, maybe not ever. She had had a wonderful husband already in her earlier years, before the force, and a three-year old son. Their pictures and obituaries sat in her closet in a box, collecting dust as she refused to ever look at it again. Her entire apartment was devoid of any image or reminder of them, or anyone for that matter, and all her memories were in the forms of newspaper clippings that spoke of the gruesome events.<br/><br/>She could see the images in her head as they laid on the floor in a pool of their own blood, her little boy clutching to his father even in death. She remembered gasping for air, wondering when someone was going to come help. Wondering if her husband and little boy were even alive. Ultimately it had been her neighbor who was an EMT that discovered them. Lea had tried to call the cops when the man first began to kick in the door, but they hadn't come until it was far too late. After that, Lea had moved to a new state, becoming a police officer and vowing to always respond to any call with the same urgency as if the world were ending--no matter how small.<br/><br/>Carlos used to get so annoyed that she would demand he step on the gas for the silly things like noise complaints. He said a little noise wouldn't kill anyone, while she argued the noise could just be a consequence of someone in actual danger. He always huffed, rolled his eyes, but would press the gas pedal just so she would shut up.<br/><br/>But after that day when she had shot that kid, even if it was to save her partner, she had crumpled. It was the last straw for her. She had killed someone's son, someone's baby boy. He was old enough he could have been a father himself. She couldn't live with that thought, still struggled to even look back at it. It killed her to know that she may have inflicted the same cruel pain onto someone else that she had faced.<br/><br/>She quieted, trying to calm down in order to get Carlos to let her go. She needed to be alone, needed to isolate herself for a little bit. He loosened his grip some, but it was obvious to her he was still frustrated--still seething at her accusations.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"I don't want to talk about this right now..."</span>she said, her voice exhausted and tinged with her own worn frustration.<br/><span style="color: #FF80FF"><br/>"I just...I'm going to go shower..."</span>she said finally. He didn't want to let her go, giving her an incredulous look, one that stated he didn't believe her and she gave an aggravated sigh.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"I'll leave the door open. Just please...I just want to shower again, okay? I won't do anything else but shower..." </span>she negotiated and he seemed to finally let her go.<br/><br/>She went to her bathroom and turned the water on as hot as she could stand it, leaving the door open as she promised. She disrobed and got in, letting herself sink to the tub floor to sit and let the water rain over her. She hugged her knees to her chest, laying her head on them, and closed her eyes. She tried to banish the bloody images of her family from her mind, trying to replace them with the more pleasant memories of them, but it was difficult. Quietly, she mourned.