<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 held onto every word Carlos shared with her. She had been surprised by his willingness to answer as she was sure he would just get angry again. But he divulged his past to her and she began to understand why he hated drug usage so much. She had never thought drug usage was a good thing, but any time she did them she felt she was relatively harmless to others. She knew there were people out there who became violent, who would end up in rather fucked up situations because of them--hell, she had ended up in some pretty fucked up situations herself, but nothing she had not been able to worm her way out of.<br/><br/>Carlos' story, however, made her realize how much her own drug usage had probably hurt him. She always thought he was just being a self-righteous prick, some white knight trying to be holier than thou. It only made her want to shut down, lock him out, and do any and all drugs just to spite him. It was petty and childish, she knew that--but it was how she had felt. Even now she still felt a bit that way, though the feeling was beginning to fade with his words.<br/><br/>He then began to speak of his childhood. She couldn't say it surprised her, but she had hoped the story would have turned out differently. She didn't know how it could have ended or if there was a good ending to be had, but she hadn't wanted to hear his confession. Hadn't wanted to know that he had raped a girl--even if the girl later sought him out for the treatment, it had still been rape to begin with. She didn't understand. Did he do this often to other girls? Did those girls consent? Or did he force them into it and never do it again only after discovering they did not like it the way he did? Was he too blind to realize that it was rape?<br/><br/>His story about his encounter with the girl made her think that he understood that it had been rape, but his subsequent words made her wonder. Inwardly she wondered what ring of hell they would end up in together --the rapist and the drug addict. That was a novel for the ages, wasn't it.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"Just because my body responded--just because that girl and I ended up being aroused and forced to climax does not mean it wasn't rape, Carlos..." </span>she whispered out, sounding more like a mother trying to explain things to a child rather than a woman who had just gone through sexual assault.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"I didn't want it to begin with and it wasn't fair of you to do that to me,"</span>she finally turned her head to look at him, the betrayal she felt showing through her eyes.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"It's only luck that you discovered some sick kink in me," </span>she turned away again, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her.<br/><br/>She wondered if she should divulge her own past to Carlos but found that she simply did not know how to without having a melt down. There was no way she'd be able to speak about it at the moment and maybe she never would be able to. It was far too painful. She felt guilty as Delgado had told her about so many things that pained him and she couldn't even muster the strength to even let him know she had been married with a son, much less about how they had died.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"You don't have to blame me for the kid. I blame myself. I took away someone's...someone's child. He was old enough he could have had a kid of his own...I...I just have a hard time accepting it,"</span>she explained briefly. Her eyes were tearing up. Not for just herself, but Carlos too.