A four hour flight sitting next to a baby who was teething, sitting behind a man who liked to sleep with his chair pushed back, and sitting in front of an alcoholic who was snapping for more beer wasn't Lisa's picture perfect day. It was five in the morning when she dragged herself out of bed, having only gotten two hours of sleep since she spent the night crying, looking at old scrapbooks, thinking of old memories. By the time six AM rolled around, she entered a four hour flight that was from Hell.

Here was the good news; this flight took her mind off of the recent news of her brother's murder and the reason why she was on it in the first place, which was to see the trial. She stopped thinking over this, stopped brooding over the past, stopped thinking of what was waiting in the heart of Springfield and started to wonder when she'd get off the plane.

Here was the bad news; she was miserable there. On that flight she was desperate to get off but was annoyed, had a headache, smelt the foul scent of alcohol and even spilt her coffee on her lap. When she got off the blasted plane, she was unsure whether to call it a blessing or a curse.

Deal with a flight from Hell VS her murdered brother's trial.

Which was better?

Stepping onto ground for the first time in hours, Lisa let out a small groan at just how bright the lights were. Rubbing her eyes from lack of sleep, crying in the time of sleep, and from being blinded, she tried to find the way to luggage. After several attempts to find the signs, remembering faintly how horrible the airport was in Springfield, she headed towards the left slanted hall.

When she stood at the rotating belt, she sniffed a bit, hoping she didn't appear as off balanced as she looked. Glancing down, a sob escaped her throat unintentionally; a sling shot sticking out of a green backpack strolled by. A little boy, by the looks of it he was almost nine, grabbed the bag and ran over to his mother.

Biting her lip to keep quiet, she grabbed her small bag and headed towards the exit. The last thing she wanted was people, strangers, staring at her. It was bad enough she had accidentally cried for a split second, that noise alone was enough to grab the attention of the security guards at least.

Lightly dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, she hailed a taxi. Just as she placed her bag into the seat and got in half way, she froze; when did they have taxis? Shaking her head, she pulled the other part of her body in and muttered her home address, giving him directions of to where it was. This place had developed since she left.

What was once the small almost backwards town of Springfield seemed to have progressed into a city of technology, of a growing future towards the better. As she looked out the window, she saw several old adults she once knew, noticing there were new children there…yet the funny thing was, there wasn't many young adults. It was as though the old generation died, the young generation turned old, the children generation that became young left, and in place somehow there were only children.

How odd.

There was one almost disturbing thing she noticed as the taxi turned a corner; the old man Snake was talking to a look alike of his younger version…and the younger version was Nelson! Had she not been so lost in grief, she would have laughed at how…expected yet unexpected it was.

They pulled into a driveway; she got out and paid the man 20 dollars. The house was the same as it was several years ago. It was a piece of Springfield frozen in time, untouched by the growing times and new trends. It offered both comfort and sorrow.

To see that despite the world's disasters, this place was the same as always which made the sense of familiarity sooth her. Yet at the same time, she saw images of her and Bart fighting, of them scheming, of them playing, of them watching TV through out the yard and house.

Never again…

"Mom? Dad? I'm home!" She called out once she opened the unlocked door. That was the good thing about this neighborhood; while the rest of the world may be falling to pieces, this place was safe enough to always keep your door unlocked.

"Lisa? Oh Lisa!" A teary eyed handkerchief holding sorrow stricken Marge appeared at the doorway. She hugged her daughter and let out a soft sob. "It's nice to see you…if only the circumstances were better though."

"Hey mom…Where's dad at?" She asked and immediately regretted such a question. Her mother's eyes flashed with annoyance, hinting something unpleasant. Before she could try to make a retraction and ask something else, her mother snapped.

"He's at the bar, that's where he is! He refuses to go to the trial, he'd rather stay and Moe's and get drunk!" The moment of anger soon receded into the soft almost calm like mourning once more. "I'm sorry dear…let's eat something and we'll head over to the courthouse."

It took a moment to realize what her mother had just said. Yes there were times through out her childhood that he choked Bart for every reason from breathing to breaking laws. Yet…how could a father rather go out to some bar like per usual routine instead of seeing his son's killer brought to justice?

"Oh yeah, sure…the flight was horrible." She explained her ordeal that distracted her grief filled mind for a while. Her mother placed some grilled cheese with pickles and chips before her, which she basically inhaled since she hadn't eaten much except the college dish; ramen.

After they spent half an hour talking about the arrangements of Bart's funeral, she finally finished her meal. Placing the dish in the sink, she held in a smile to hear her mother fuss, "I'll do the dishes later, don't bother. Come on, we'll be late." It almost made her laugh at how it sounded like nothing had changed…yet everything had.

When they arrived at the courtroom, it was absolutely packed! Lisa pushed away a strand of her hair from her face, standing on her tippy toes to try and find two seats. Of course she felt very foolish when her mother stated, "Lisa, they saved us seats up front…come on."

When they sat down, she glanced around to see many of the familiar faces from the old community. It would seem whether from thirst of justice needed or from sadistic humor, or even boredom, they wanted to watch Sideshow Bob's trial. Once more, she felt mixed feelings; relieved yet saddened.

She sat down and glanced at the man who murdered her brother. He wore bright orange clothes which once more seemed to have frozen in time, untouched by develops in both technology and style. His hair was still bushy, sticking out, and a dark red brownish color, one of the few men who possessed such a tone.

What amazed her though was how…young he still looked. Although it had been something similar to ten years, he didn't seem to age at all! As he frowned like now, there were wrinkles from stress on his temple but nothing noticeable until you stared at him. She faintly wondered if his smile was still charming and his voice was still infuriatingly sophisticated.

That was one thing she had always…liked, in a sense, about the man. He was the only one in Springfield besides her that seemed to hold a large amount of knowledge in his mind about…well, everything! He knew Shakespeare plays from period to exclamation point; he could debate politics for hours as proven on the radio show once; he knew how to scheme and nearly get away with it. She had always felt around him that she was not alone, that she wasn't the only smart person nearby.

She should hate him for what he did, yes…but alas…she found herself thinking of his one and possibly only one charming trait. The voice of the Judge brought her back to reality. How long had the trial been in play already? He had said something about 'objection sustained'. Who had objected?

"I'd like to point out that Sideshow Bob's questionable past. He framed Krusty the Clown, he rigged an election, he attempted to kill a woman named Selma, he attempted to kill the deceased Bart several times…Although it is not proven, he and his brother tried to destroy a dam!" A respectable looking intelligent man spoke, obviously the D.A. "Ladies and gentleman of the jury, it is obvious to see what has happened; Sideshow Bob finally got his revenge! He went into Bart's home and stabbed him brutally! Yet young Bart did not give up fighting, he yanked a chunk of hair from Mr. Terwilliger's head!"

Lisa watched as he walked over to the jury, placing his hands on the ledge. "Ladies and gentleman…he claims to have been walking the streets at the time of the murder yet no one was with him, no one remembers him! He insists on innocent yet, ironically, this intelligent genius cannot even make up a convincing story! I am here to give you the truth…and the truth is, my friends, he killed Bart Simpson!"

The words sunk into Lisa's mind, really sunk in. Seeing the man right before her made her blood boil yet there was a spec of…doubt in her mind. Her vision became blurry with tears which she let them fall silently, the rest of the trial becoming muffled to her ears.

Next chapter: Lisa goes over the evidence in her mind at night, staying in her old room, thinking of memories as well. She decides to go see Bob…Review!