Triggered.

I'm frozen.

My vision was spotty; I was left staring up at my dad's concerned face.

Anxiety, I could hear my rough breathing. I could feel the quivering of my hands.

Whenever I have these moments the Entenmann's coffee cake aroma is in the air. Loop after loop of my mother bending over me waggling her finger in my face saying the most horrific things plays in my head. Her repetitive words are the only thing I can concentrate on. Whenever I've felt as if the world was closing in on me, or scared, and even alone, I have these awful flashbacks. Sometimes I wish they weren't real almost as if my subconscious is making it up. I didn't want to believe that they were coming from what I experienced as a little girl.

Then the worst of my flashbacks come. I could still feel the grip she had on my arm as she dragged me up the stairs. I could hear the slight crack of the window pane in her haste to open it. All I can remember was how dark the clouds were, the smell of the rain. The sound of the locked door being kicked in sounded impossibly loud then. My throat ached from the screaming. My dad filled the doorway with this monstrous expression on his face.

But the strange thing about it, I could never remember what happened when I wasn't having an anxiety attack.

I can faintly hear my dad telling me to breathe.

I counted the fifty glow in the dark stars glued to my ceiling with the help of my brothers. They never knew this, but it helped with my insomnia. Some nights when I can't sleep, I count them until I fall asleep. I had my breathing under control and I gripped my dad's hand to let him know that I was ok. But I continued to stare at the ceiling.

Being in my head is not a fun space. It had a lot of darkness, with very little light.

But his bit of darkness, I wouldn't mind.

Carlos.

"Tell me what happened."

My dad was jittery, "She asked for the mail, and then took off like a bat out of hell." My brothers were peeking through the doorway, with anxious expressions on their faces.

"Babe, do you have the letter?" I opened the palm of my hands and handed Carlos the balled up letter.

He walked over to the window. I sat up on my bed staring at his back as he read the letter. I can see his body stiffen the more he read. I rubbed my forehead to ease the ache of the headache coming on.

My brothers tiptoed into the room, ran to me slightly jumping on the bed, wrapping me in their arms. They watched Carlos, he looked over at us with raised brows, my brothers were squeezing me in there little arms. I welcomed them, they gave the best hugs.

I didn't notice before but Carlos had on some gloves. I was in such a panic that I completely forgot.

"Babe?"

"I don't know how, I just got this case this morning. The body's been at the precinct for 24 hours before I was asked for the second opinion."

"How could you understand him? He just said Babe." My brother Sebastian leaned over looking at me with those blue eyes I see every morning in the mirror.

"Yeah Steph, he just said one word?" Zaiden was was genuinely confused.

"I'm going to have to make some calls." Carlos walked out the kitchen towards the back of the house. I could imagined how we looked, 3 sets of blue eyes and brown curly hair.

"Stephanie are you going to be ok?" Zaiden and Sebastian had a habit of speaking the same.

"Yeah boys, I'll be ok." I kissed their cheeks.

"Come on boys let's go up to the house to check and see if your mom's home." My dad guided my brothers out the room, "Pumpkin come up to the house when your done."

"Sure dad."

I glanced around my room, I left my pajamas on the little chaise in the corner. The multiple pillows that once graced my bed, decorated my floor. My phone beeped letting me know to put it on the charger. I laid back on the bed covering my face with the comforter. I wanted to curl up and sleep my life away, but I knew I had to keep out of denial land. I didn't escape back then and I won't start now.

"Babe, what happened?"

I pulled the comforter down to my chin and looked at him, "I went up to the main house, sometimes my mail gets sent there by mistake. The envelope didn't have a return address nor a stamp. It looked a little dirty and I just knew that something was wrong. I opened it and there was the poem. Ran to my house and called you. I don't understand it, I just got this case, how could the killer have possibility known to send this without knowing if I were on the case."

"Do you think so one tipped him off?"

"I wasn't at the scene."

I groaned and rolled over towards him.

"Stephanie, what was happening before you gave me the letter."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Ok Babe," He sat down in the chaise and leaned back, "Do you think that this is the same person who killed the girl back at the cop shop?"

"Probably or they maybe a copy cat."

"How could this person know that you were going to be assigned to this case?"

"I have been training this new guy, and he was the one who they allowed on the scene."

"They let a rookie on the case?"

"Yeah, I only get the high profile cases. But some cops don't want me anywhere near their cases. Even if I do my job better than previous Forensic Experts."

"Why?"

"This case 6 months ago that involved Detective Morelli."

"What happened then."

"There was a teenage girl found behind the old boxing gym on Stark Street. Morelli's partner and the other forensic guy hide some of the evidence because the killer was a local boxer from the neighborhood. He had a temper but people saw him as a local hero. Sure he might of helped the kids at the gym learning to box, but behind closed doors he was heavily involved and drugs and prostitution. You can imagine the looks I got from some of the cops when I found the hidden evidence and presented it to the court."

"Fuck Babe."

"Yeah, and that's why I'm in the old morgue in the basement. Uncle Joe is the only reason why I'm still there. I get some dirty looks but they haven't tried anything yet"

"Well babe, I contacted my superiors and they want a copy of the letter. I told them about it showing up at your home and they offered a safe house, but from the security measures I had to get through to get to your home I'm going say you don't need to go."

"Thanks Carlos, I really appreciate it."

He got up to go and I followed him out.

"Do you have a spare room?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well I'm going to need it when I stay over, Roomie."

He jogged to his car and drove off, I stood staring dumbly as the black Porsche disappeared.

It took about two hours before Carlos came back.

I was in my office going over some of my notes that I brought home. I didn't keep any of my files in the office at the precinct. I once found some rookie looking over my desk, so I stopped leaving files at work. There some old files from my boss, mainly cold cases, but something odd caught my attention. There were 3 cold cases where the female victim was stabbed in the heart and some piece of organ or bone was missing.

I knew the moment Carlos let himself into my home. I bet he could sneak up on anyone, but the now familiar tingle on the back of my neck was his downfall.

"Carlos?"

"Yeah Babe?"

"I think I found something."

We went of the previous notes and and loaded up the notes I took on the Jane Doe his morning. This person could have been practicing.

"You know what this means?"

"Someone's know more than they're telling."

I felt him move closer. We stayed in my office going over some notes. I fall asleep at some point and woke up in Carlos's arms.

"Shh Babe, go back to sleep."

I felt him lay me down.