Red and Hot.

Silas Woods Anderson. Aged 59. Born August 8, 1961. Resident of Boone, North Carolina.

That’s the information I had on the man who killed my sister.

He said he hadn’t meant to, that my sister provoked him by honking at him. His defense attorney tried to argue that Silas had a history of these flashes of “red, hot anger, like a raging bull took over”. Anger was the reason my younger sister was driven off the side of the road.

I had other opinions as to why it had happened, but I kept those thoughts to myself. My version? Silas Woods Anderson was simply a terrible person who had no purpose on this earth other than causing pain.

When I found out my sister had died, I was shocked. Then the cops told me they were considering the case shut and closed due to the snowy and icy roads. That’s when I got mad and demanded a deeper investigation. We had grown up and lived in Boone pretty much our entire lives. My sister knew how to drive in snow.

Luckily a witness came forward. She said she had seen a truck tailing my sister; “hauling to catch up, like he was mad” were her words exactly. She had written down the license plate, which was then traced to Silas.

I miss my sister daily. Our relationship was kind of weird after the divorce; I had gone away to college during it, our mom left after, and Dad was never the same. My sister, Chloe, had always felt like she had gotten the short end of the stick by having to stay and take care of Dad.

“ You’ve always thought you were better than me!”. She had screamed this at me once during one of our fights.

Truth was, I had always thought she was better than me. She had always known who she was and didn’t take any crap from anyone. I envied that. I loved her. And now I’d never get the chance to tell her.

HONK!!

I had forgotten I was at a stoplight. Today was Silas’ sentencing.

Court hadn’t gone well the day before. The jury was on Silas’ side and seemed to believe some time in a psychiatric hospital would be enough, that justice would then be served.

That wasn’t going to be justice. That monster had taken my sister from me, and the jury believed a psychiatric hospital would be enough? Not on my watch. I wasn’t going to let that happen.

The perks of winters in Boone? They were cold, and you needed a thick winter jacket. I loaded my father’s gun and slipped it into the inside pocket of my coat.

Now I know what you’re thinking. “Lisa, how do you plan to slip a gun through the metal detectors?”. A large amount of money did wonders; I paid two men, a guard to look the other way and a man to cause a distraction.

As I approached the front doors to the courthouse, I looked for my distraction. The next thing I knew, a man stood on a bench.

“Judge Peterkin is a sorry excuse of a man. Screw Alan Peterkin!” The man then pulled down his pants and mooned everyone; Alan Peterkin was the judge for my sister’s case.

The mooning bit got the guards going. As they rushed over and everyone looked away, I slipped past the metal detectors.

“Ma’am”. The guard nonchalantly tipped his hat at me.

“Good morning sir”.

I kept going till I reached the last door to the right. The People vs. Anderson.

I walked in, pressed the gun close to me, and sat in the back. I didn’t want anyone to see me.

“All rise for the honorable Judge Peterkin”, said the bailiff.

As everyone rose, I slid down in my seat. Peterkin approached the stand, sat down, then banged his gavel. In walked Silas Woods Anderson in a suit and cuffs. Although he’d killed someone, he was still allowed to wear his own clothes.

What felt like hours passed. Both the defense and prosecution presented the last bit of evidence they had and read their closing statements. After a short recess and me anxiously smoking a pack of cigarettes, it was finally time to hear the sentencing.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” Peterkin asked.

“Yes sir, we have. We the jury find Silas Woods Anderson, not guilty on one count of criminally negligent homicide and guilty on one count of vehicular assault”.

I was dumbfounded. I didn’t understand how you could be found guilty of vehicular assault, but not of criminally negligent homicide, especially with a witness. But then the biggest blow of all came: the sentencing.

“Mr. Anderson, please stand”, said Judge Peterkin, “your crimes are unspeakable and could have been avoided. You did in fact take an innocent young woman’s life, a young woman who had just started to live. However, after taking all the facts into consideration, including the testimony the psychiatrist the courts appointed you, I do believe you to be suffering from schizophrenia and severe bipolar disorder, and I acknowledge your troubling past. That being said, I hereby find you guilty but sentence you to three years on the psychiatry floor at Cannon Memorial Hospital. This court is adjourned”.

I let out a deep sigh; I had been holding my breath. My little sister’s life was no more than three years in a hospital that wasn’t even fully equipped for someone like Silas.

I looked up and saw Silas smiling and shaking his lawyer’s hand. That smirk. I felt the red, hot anger Silas’ defense attorney had talked about, the raging bull. I got up and slipped out of the courtroom and waited for Silas; I knew what I had to do.

I waited outside the courtroom, trying not to be suspicious or seen. As Silas and his crowd of supporters walked out, I slowly followed them.

They were congratulating him on his “big win”.

The red. The hot. The raging bull.

I was as sneaky walking out as I could be.

As they walked down the courthouse stairs, I shouted his name.

“Silas!” I reached into my jacket pocket.

As he turned and I prepared to bring the gun out, someone grabbed my arm. It was my dad.

“Honey, that won’t bring Chloe back. Let it go”.

I knew he was right. But I wanted justice for my sister.

Silas stared at me.

“You killed my sister”, I told him.

The color left his face. He was then pushed away to the car his team had waiting.

I fell into my dad’s arms and began to cry.

“Come on sweetie. Let’s go get some lunch”.

We went to a nearby cafe, but I was too upset to eat. I just pushed my food around the plate.

“How did you know what I had planned?” I asked my dad.

“Honey, one of my guns was missing after you last visited. And I knew the trial was coming up. Plus, you are my daughter after all”.

I couldn’t help but let a faint smile appear on my face.

“Look baby, I know you’re upset. I am too. But men like Silas don’t last long. He may have some issues, but he’s no killer. What he did will end up breaking him before you know it”.

My dad was right. Two years later, we were watching the news. Silas had been let out of the psychiatric floor early, but he had picked up drinking. One cold night in winter, he drank and drove. He drove off the road, right where Chloe had two years prior.

Justice was served.