Legal Murder

chapter:4

The airport was busier on Fridays than any other day of the week it seemed. Hundred of people from all of the world flocked at it's many stations and terminals. There were chaotic shouts, crying babies, confused old people, eager travelers, tired children, and crabby attendants. People from Kenya, people from France, people from Oklahoma; all en-route for New York City.

And of course, there were people from Chicago.

"Ginger! There you are. I thought you said Gate 9," Lauren exclaimed with cheerful irritability, "so, how have you been?"

The blond-haired, blue-eyed eighteen year old, a younger version of Lauren, held a look of disturbed secrecy. She instantly hid it with a bright smile. "Fine! I've been doing... fine. I always love our visits. Let's get back to your place, okay?" Ginger lifted her orange shoulder bag higher onto her arm, and started for the crowded airport exit.

"You know," Lauren began conversationally, as the two walked towards the silver BMW, "you usually come to visit closer to Christmastime. It's only November."

"What?" Her younger sister laughed, a bit nervously, "Are you saying I'm not welcome?"

Lauren knew she was kidding. "Of course not. I was just wondering if you had some kind of motive."

"Motive? Like what?" Ginger replied. She threw her bag in the trunk, and slipped into the passenger seat.

"Oh... I don't know." Lauren returned, falling into the driver's side, and giving her sister a pointed look. She studied the blonde bangs across Ginger's forehead, and noted on the slight weight she'd gained over the summer. "So, how's life in Chicago?"

"Boring."

"How's Richard?" Lauren recalled her sister's many gushing phone calls about him.

Ginger frowned, and jerked her head to face the window. "Great."

"Is Mom doing alright...?"

"Yeah."

"And Dad?"

She crossed her arms uncomfortably. "Just dandy."

Lauren sighed and turned onto the freeway. "Ginger. What's bothering you? Why are you here?"

The blue in her eyes seemed to go livid as she shot Lauren a piercing gaze. "I can't tell you."

"Then how can I help you?"

"Who says I need help?"

There was a long silence during which the sisters looked away from each other.

Finally, as Lauren pulled in front of her apartment entrance, Ginger spoke.

"I'll show you. Tomorrow. I'll show you why I came here." Her voice was near a tremble, but the tears that threatened to fall were held back.

Lauren set a hand to her younger sister's shoulders, and noticed that Ginger was staring at something with a paled expression. Slowly, Lauren followed her line of vision until she came upon what Ginger was so placidly intent on.

The ugly pink building behind her apartment.

Does knowing there are seven billion other people in the world make you feel like you have a great opportunity to feel different, or feel small and insignificant?