Sincerely, Red

Chapter Twenty Four

True to the promise, we all spent the next year or so working as a team and hoping to get somewhere. Claire had hired the best lawyer she could find, which just meant that it was up to us to produce enough evidence for Tim to get convicted. It was a very gradual process, with restless nights that were spent staying up late and just thinking. Not a single person, except possibly Claire, knew what to expect from the trial. The date had just come closer and closer, until it was right at our feet and begging to be acknowledged. I suppose that's what really took up most of the thinking time: how we were going to deal with something that would no longer be in our control.

In the end though, it was just an obstacle in our way, a hurdle if you liked. It was a matter of jumping over it, even if that meant that we skimmed the top of the metal ridge. Nothing was set in stone and very little was predictable. It was a strange game, this guessing and hoping and ignoring, because most of us were ignoring the darker possibilities. And the only way to win would be to bet on the right outcome, though I doubted that any of us would actually win. In fact, I'd describe it as more of a partial win, because we weren't really confident in our thoughts, just hopeful.

I thought of this, as I looped my fingers around the buttons of my coat and took another look around the court room. It wasn't exactly what I had expected. It was simply a regular building with a maze of twisting corridors inside, which led to a series of rooms. The one I was sitting in now - court room number five - was at the far end of the building and much smaller than I had anticipated. A glass witness box was opposite where the defendant would stand, whilst a higher row of panelled seats were located near a room. I assumed they were reserved for the jury and the room for their decision making. Across from that, I sat in the gallery, where there was an aisle split it into two sections. And opposite me was the judge's seat, facing everyone in the room.

I moved uncomfortably in the hard leather seats, with David fidgeting restlessly beside me. Claire had disappeared so Lucas sat on my right. Having two people either side of me made it easier to deal with everything because I was always conscious of their reactions. If I made a stupid mistake, they would notice. If I got scared, Lucas would most definitely make a sarcastic comment. If I ran away, both of them would stop me. Whilst it was slightly comforting, I also felt kind of trapped.

However, that feeling vanished when the members of the media walked in. Most of them wore smart jackets and matching trousers, whilst others had on white blouses and form fitting cardigans. They were the type of people you'd see in the street and just pass by, but if you were to take a closer look, they'd strike you as different. Their eyes flitted from side to side, as perceptive and aware as Claire, whilst their hands itched at their sides. They were desperately waiting to get anything, like a group of hungry parasites feeding off of the broken minds of innocents. I suppose that's what made them so strikingly different; the darker parts of human nature were stronger in them, and it was more than just doing their job. It was a part of their existence.

"Stop staring at them like they're going to eat you," Lucas muttered, beside me. "I mean, I know they do kind of look like hungry ogres waiting to feed off of human flesh and everything, but seriously-"

"Shut up," I said half heartedly. "How can you be so calm about this anyway? I swear you've been sarcastic and annoying and awful-"

"Yeah, okay," he mumbled. "As much as I would absolutely love to hear you insult me all day, I'm trying to concentrate here. I really want to capture the moment that Tim gets done." He took in a deep breath and dug his nails into the leather. Then he breathed out. "I want to see everything, you know? The fear, the panic, the raw terror... just, I want to see him suffer so much for what he's done. I don't even know why he's getting a trial. The officers should have shot him when they had the chance, or maybe I should've just done it myself."