Victim: Alexys Angela Garcia

Offender: Lauren April Davis

Next court date: October 19, 2021
Docket No. 18-CR-002980

My biggest honor in life thus far is being a big sister. It is a duty that I’ve never taken lightly.
While I was notoriously bossy with both my sisters, I love them fiercely and have always tried to
protect them. Due to Lexy being 9 years younger than me, she got both a bossy big sister and
an overprotective mini-mom.

When Lexy was two years old she started having night terrors and would cry out in her crib. I
would hear her before our parents did and would get her out of her crib and bring her back to
my bed to sleep with me. This happened a few times until we realized that Lexy slept better if
she started her night out with me. She slept in my bed snuggled up next to me habitually for
years. If I close my eyes, I can still feel her small, warm body in her fuzzy, footsie pajamas
snuggled safely in my arms. This was something I would tease her about when I wanted her to
do me a favor. I would remind her that I had let her sleep in my bed for years and she would
laugh and usually do what I asked of her.

As an adult she wrote me a beautiful letter that will always remain one of my most prized
possessions, in which she told me how much she loved me, how grateful she was to have the
relationship that we did, how lucky she was to have me as a second mom, and thanked me for
letting her sleep in my bed all those years. When Lexy died, I not only felt like I lost my baby
sister, but I also felt like a part of me had lost a child. It was a brokenness that you can’t even
begin to imagine or empathize with, until it happens to you.

The night of the crash, I spent the evening cooking a Thanksgiving feast from scratch. I show my
love for my family through a good, home-cooked meal and I was excited to be hosting my first
Thanksgiving. From the turkey in the fridge to the table set with new linens, I was ready to give
my family a holiday filled with joy. On the night of November 22 , I heard my baby sister’s
nd

sweet voice for the last time. She told me how excited she was for dinner the next day and how
she couldn’t wait to bring home the kittens I was fostering for her. I wish that I had demanded
that she come over and help with my dinner preparations. I wish so desperately that she had
been safely at my house that night; instead, seven hours after getting off the phone with me,
she was brutally thrown through broken glass and flung so far into a field that it would take first
responders 20 minutes to locate her lifeless body. It took a drone with a thermal imaging
camera to locate her in the dark abyss.

Thanksgiving morning, I got the call from my mom that would forever change my life for the
worse. Lexy had been in a crash, had undergone brain surgery, and was in a coma. I rushed out
of my house, leaving behind the huge dinner I had made and the table I had set for my family
that would never be complete again. Upon arriving at Eden Hospital, we were quickly briefed
on Lexy’s condition. No amount of briefing from any level of medical personnel can prepare you
for walking into an ICU and seeing your loved one on life support.
I am a highly sensitive person and I feel things deeply. I don’t watch scary movies. I already had
a hard time watching the news prior to this. I saw things in that hospital room that I never could
have imagined, things that still haunt me and most likely always will despite the time and
financial resources I’ve put into managing my PTSD as best as I could.

Seeing my beautiful baby sister so brutally injured beyond recognition is something that will be
burned into my memory until the day I die. Her beautiful hair was shaved off, with just enough
wisps above her ears to show what her hair color once was. Her face plate was broken off from
her skull and free floating; therefore, her face had no shape or structure. Her eye had been
detached at the scene and was bulging out of her face. I sat in the room and watched the eye
surgeon stitch it back up to keep it from continuing to leak and ooze blood down her face.

One of the things that haunts and bothers me the most to this day is that Lexy’s poor face was
covered in blood. There was blood in her ear, caked on all over face mingled with smeared
mascara, and yet none of this could be cleaned up. She was too unstable to clean up, and any
kind of touch sent her brain pressure up. She couldn’t even be moved to get critical diagnostics
done.

I was less anxious if I was at the hospital with Lexy, so I slept in a chair in her room each night
while my mom slept on the cot and we took turns keep a watchful eye over her. Eden Hospital
was my home for the week.

On Wednesday, November 29, 2017, we were informed that Lexy wasn’t going to make it and
that we could let her go one of two ways, one being more traumatic than the other. I honestly
don’t know how I called everyone that needed to say their goodbyes. There were over 20
people in the room as life support was turned off and we watched Lexy slip from this world to
the next. Kristyn and I held her left hand together as my mom held her right. We played the
soundtrack from A Charlie Brown Christmas, her favorite Christmas movie as she took her last
breaths. Watching her those last few minutes and knowing she would soon be dead was the
hardest thing I have ever had to do. Walking out of that hospital room and seeing her broken
and bludgeoned face one last time and knowing I would never physically see her again is the
second hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I cannot think about those moments without feeling
like I’ve been stabbed in the heart, without shedding tears for the sister that I miss so very
much. I didn’t know how physically painful grief could be until Lexy was stolen from our family.

Lexy was a giving person and would have wanted to have been an organ donor. Due to all of the
drugs that had been pumped into her broken body, she was not a candidate for organ
donation. There couldn’t even be the small silver lining of knowing that her organs would give
other families additional time with their loved. This was personally another heartbreaking loss
for me. All of it was so incredibly unfair.

25 days prior to Lauren Davis fatally injuring my sister and Violet Campbell, I was in a 5 vehicle,
6 victim collision caused by a previously convicted drunk driver who was also high while driving
drunk, just as Lauren Davis was. Two victims were life flighted. I sustained numerous, lasting
physical injuries as a result of the accident. I have a text message from Lexy when she found out
that the driver who had injured me had been drunk expressing how angry she was for me, and
that the person who did this to me needed to pay. My baby sister was livid because someone
chose to selfishly drink and drive and hurt me. It is unfathomable to me that 23 days after she
wrote that text someone would do the same to her, but much worse. It is now my turn to be
livid. I am so angry that she isn’t here, I am so angry for what I have had to live through these
past four years, I am angry at what this has done to my family.

My life has not gone back to normal at all. At the time of the crash I had been working full time
for one company as the Director of Human Resources and consulting part time for another.
Within weeks I was terminated from my full-time position because I was unable to do my job
well due to overwhelming grief and PTSD. A week later, I was also let go from my contracting
job, because again, I couldn’t perform such a high-level job when my days were spent sobbing,
my memory fuzzy from the grief and PTSD. I also developed a crippling fear of driving, which
was necessary in holding down a job. It took a while to find a therapist who was able to see me
weekly, which is what I needed then, and still do years later. I was also under the care of a
psychiatrist and was diagnosed with acute PTSD. I had to take prescription sleeping medication,
anxiety medication as well as an adrenaline blocker. These drugs were the only way I could
sleep at night without waking up drenched in sweat, in the middle of a terrifying a nightmare, a
nightmare that had in fact happened and was my family’s reality. My psychiatrist put me on
short-term disability for the next year as I was unable to work. I still haven’t been able to go
back to my career and I don’t know if I ever will be able to.

I didn’t just lose Lexy four years ago, I lost the version of myself that I once knew. That girl is
long gone and I don’t know if she’s ever going to come back. I lost the mom I once had. There
have been two periods of time where I’ve avoided my mom because it was too painful to be
around her. It has often felt like she is only capable of being Lexy’s grieving mother and doesn’t
have the emotional reserves to be a mother to her living daughters. At times I have argued with
my sister, Kristyn, because she has more patience with our mom’s grief than I do, but I’m
broken and hurt and some days all I want is my mom. I don’t know if I’ll ever get my old mom
back, the same as I don’t know if I’ll ever get the version of myself back that I so desperately
miss. I used to love to socialize, but since Lexy’s death, I struggle to be in groups of people. For
a long time, even small groups and one on one with my friends was hard. I often found myself
breaking down in tears and feeling like I was ruining people’s fun time with my emotional
distress.

After the first-year anniversary of Lexy’s death, things continued to deteriorate from the loss of
the bright light that was the glue that held our family together. I began to lose any desire for
living. I didn’t have a plan for how I wanted to die, but I knew that I didn’t want to be alive. On
the darkest of those nights, I luckily had a friend who recognized my suffering and spent the
evening with me, reassuring me that life would one day be worth living for again. I don’t know
what would have happened that night if I had been left to my own devices, but it scares the hell
out of me to think about.
The version of my life that I wanted has been destroyed. I don’t get to see Lexy get married or
have babies. I don’t have the intact and happy family that I thought I would always have.
Therefore, Lauren Davis shouldn’t get the life she wanted either. The only life she deserves is
one where is behind bars. This is the only way to prevent another family from suffering at the
hands of Lauren Davis. Lauren has shown repetitive, reckless behavior and has shown no
intention of changing, even after killing two innocent people. My sister was literally dying in an
ICU hospital room, Violet Campbell had already been gruesomely killed on scene, and yet that
wasn’t enough to stop Lauren from continuing to go out and in downtown Livermore, with her
fresh black eyes from the crash. When you consider Lauren’s sentencing, I would implore you to
think about all of the lives she stole that night. While she stopped two beating hearts, she stole
many more lives that night and she deserves to spend the rest of her life in jail. It is the only
way our community will be safe from her.