Tiny little thing I wrote for English class in September-ish. The assignment was to use the vocabulary words for the play Twelve Angry Men in a story, so here's mine. Short. I haven't read over it, so I'm not sure exactly how crappy it is.

Title comes from the song "In the Blood" by Better Than Ezra, although the story has little to nothing to do with the song.

Enjoy. Please R&R.

He was after her. Watching from the shadows, following her everywhere, tracking every move, noting every stop. Stalking her, remembering her schedule.

The courtroom fills quickly with family, friends, and press. The story is all over the news, plastered on headlines across the country: "Brother kills sister in act of rage". Today is the day of the verdict, naturally the most anticipated day of any long premeditated murder trial.

As the doors close, the room is stuffy: From the dogged counsels to the naïve bystanders watching in the room and via the live video feeds; the subservient defendant--the brother accused of the murder--waiting to hear his fate; the jury, hopefully with a unanimous decision waiting to be read.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Munich," the bailiff says as the judge enters the room.

With the fingers of a cold hand around her neck, her attacker tried to gain monopoly, tried to get her to bend to his will. But she didn't. She struggled, screamed. But no one saw or heard.

When the judge sits, he motions for the assembled crown to follow suit. Then he turns to the jury box. "Would the foreman please stand?"

A petite man in the front corner of the box stands. His nervous eyes flick between the cameras, the prosecution, and the defendant, who looks no older than college-age.

"Has the jury reached a verdict beyond reasonable doubt?" the judge asks.

"Yes, sir," the foreman replies.

His hands were on her neck, cutting of her breath. Her throat was sore from screaming as tears roll down her cheeks. She knew what was going to happen to her now. She knew her death was near.

The defendant's resolve to remain focused on the table in front of him dissolves. He looks to his right at the attorney assigned to him from the state. As much as the lawyer's feigned bigotry helped before, it now causes what little confidence he had to slip. What will happen if he is found guilty?

"Will you please read the verdict?" Judge Munich says, his hands folded before him on the judge's stand.

Her head hits the cement, and black dots dance across her already blurred vision. Again and again, he slams her head on the cement. By the fifth time, she didn't feel anything anymore. Her last thought was about her twin brother: What would happen to him now?

The foreman opens an envelope he is holding and clears his throat. The defendant's head drops as he awaits his fate.

"On the account of murder in the first degree," the foreman begins, "we find the defendant not guilty."

Applause erupts in the courtroom, despite the controversy around the trial's process. The defendant tries his best to abstain from jumping up as a new sense of relief overcomes him. Now all he needs to do is find the real killer.