I sat in my living room and replayed the pivotal two minutes of the day . In my mind, the remembered details could provide hours of description. Those two minutes held so much more than anyone could imagine. Zoom in, the gravel strikes. The verdict is read along with the sentence. The sound of relief and joy- its coming from the other table. The crowd within the courtroom is indifferent, this is evidenced by their lack of outrage and the sound of unhurried movement. No one notices me catch my breath in shock, even though I don't breath. No one else seems to feel that the temperature has dropped twenty degrees. It feels that way for about a minute. Then it rises abruptly, as if the courtroom had become a pit of molten lava, but only I seem to be aware of it.

The eyes of the man who tried to kill me next to a dumpster behind the grab it quick met mine and I see triumph not remorse. The eyes of my would be murderer seem to mock me, as if they are saying " did you really expect anything different?" The eyes of the man who just got 3 years probation in lieu of incarceration for attempting to drain me dry and leave me to meet my final death look away from mine, the way you look away from an infomercial when you realize has turned out to be irrelevant. I don't stop looking at him though, when his attorney follows the verdict up with a petition to the court for a restraining order against me.

It seems his attorney feared I would be a danger to his client. I didn't look away from him when the court granted said petition. It seemed they all agreed I was the dangerous one. They asked me if I understood. I nodded and rose from my chair .My shoulders were squared and my head held high as I exited the court room. They didn't need to see or know the injustice of it all would have frozen my heart if it still beat. Sitting in my living room now I can concede they were right to grant that restraining order. Not that it will do any good. Not that they would have needed it, if only….

If only they hadn't made it so clear that my life counted for nothing to them. Probation for attempted murder. I shake my head at the memory and wonder what it was exactly that I had fought so hard to preserve? When I left the courtroom I left more than my naive belief that justice would be served. Maeve Michaels, the vampire who would die to preserve a human may have been the person to walk in, but Maeve Michaels the vampire was the one who emerged into the balmy Louisiana night. I didn't need a mirror to tell me that my eyes had turned from amber to green, and I knew that my green eyes would be the last thing that blood draining thug would see before he was released from his probation.