Patterson shudders as she remembers Tasha's body hanging right in front hers, her frame seeming smaller than ever.
She remembers her jagged scream that cut through the air and how she watched helplessly with her own two eyes as those vicious men hurt her.
She remembers another time, seeing her unconscious body in low quality footage and the wave of fear that hit her mixed with anger at her own self for letting it happen, for being lousy when it came to her protection.
It was memories like those that filled her mind every time she had to watch her girl go out and risk her life daily. To know that she was responsible to an extent to what would happen, to know that solving those tattoos and sending her out held her accountable in a way if anything bad happened. To know that she would succumb with the amount of self-blaming and grief if something did take place.
It left her longing to hold tasha's warm body so close to hers in the serenity of the night, to hear her heart's rhythmic pounding against her ear and the soft breaths as she fell asleep. To look up to her face with the soft lights contrasting the harsh shadows, to marvel at the tranquility that filled it and it's softness that reminded her of a child's.
She longed to wake up to little streaks of light seeping through the blinds to her face and around the white room, only for a sweet savory smell to hit her nostrils soon after. To listen to the foreign Spanish words and the soft lively upbeat music bouncing all around their little home, to be greeted by the warmest of smiles. She longed for the comfort of tasha's presence, for the fulfillment it provided and the love they shared. For she was her whole world and even the thought of loosing her in dark nights where only loneliness and the cold accompanied her in what was once their love-filled room (now cold and empty) would threaten to send her spiraling into an endless void.