Death of a hero
Casey sat staring at a wall filled with tiny poka-dots. She could make up thousands of shapes. From rectangles to circles to arrows to, believe it or not, swasticka's and she smiles at how funny it was that everywhere she looked she looked for the ugly, the deranged things, the evil. The cracks in the wall, the falter in the seemingly perfectly constructed device. She used to be such an optimist. She used to look for the beauty in everything. If only her mother could see her now, drunk and staring at a wall. Of course, her mother could care less. Her mother thought she only work in SVU because she had sex with Arthur Branch to keep her job and that at night she spent her time getting drunk and stoned and fucking with Olivia. How did her mother get this notion? After Casey called to ask if she could bring a guest for Christmas. Casey had never had many relationships, always to focused on school or work, and only one that was serious enough to result in being invited to a family function. And seeing as Casey was the only child of a very catholic, high society family her family and mother were less then pleased when her guest was her coworker and girlfriend Olivia. That resulted in her mother starting crazy rumors. Apparently, lesbianism was enough to get you shunned. Casey wasn't thrilled about that but was reassured to know she wasn't alone as long as she had Olivia. Well, she wasn't alone at that point in time. She is now. She begins to cry again as she replays the scene from earlier that day in her head.
She walks into the precinct after work to get Olivia. For once she wasn't wearing high heels, she was wearing her baseball outfit, along with her cleats. She heard unfamiliar, feminine laughter flitter down the hall and wondered who would be here at this time. Olivia was the only girl and the only on that stayed this late and no victim would be laughing. Frowning, she opened the door. Olivia was sitting on her desk chair, pants around her ankles, and an older looking blonde on her knees between the Detectives thighs. "Do you want me Olivia? More then Casey?" The women asked. She thought she recognized he voice but didn't have time to ponder it as Olivia answered, moaning. "God yes. You. Just you. Fuck Alex don't stop." Casey backed out of the squad room. Alexandra Cabot. She should have known she could never be more then Alex. Not at her job, not with the DA's office, not with the squad and certainly not with Olivia.
Casey dragged herself off the floor and took a drink from her whiskey bottle at the same time. Having drunk the whole thing, she let it fall to her hardwood floor and listened to it shatter into little pieces with a satisfied smile. She reached into her red briefcase and pulled out a random page, all the while trying to stay on her feet and keep the world from spinning. She laughed bitterly at the realization that her world had spun more when she was sober and could still think straight. She grabs a pen from the paper scattered table and writes a note. "Have fun with Alex. Suicide is a sin. Crimes of passion. So help me God. Love always, Casey." She finished the note with a grinning smiley face and grabbed her car keys off the counter.
Once on the road, she blasts her music and observes each car that passes carefully. Finally she spots a transport truck speeding towards her. Impact in five, four, three. Now when the newspapers read "ADA killed!" it would be for real and she wouldn't be coming back. Two, one, she swerved into the path of the truck. Impact. The glass shatters like the whiskey bottle. The air bag comes out in almost slow motion. Casey put's her hands in front of her face to stay alive a little longer. Her forearms hit the airbag. The front of the car crunches in. The steering wheel pushes against her chest. It cracks her ribs and one punctures her lung. She manages one startled gasp before her lungs fill with her own blood. Her body is crushed and broken like the glass and bottle. Like her metaphorical heart. They will need her dental plan to indentify her. One ADA dies as another resurrects. It seems we are in the habit of letting the protagonist die.