Well, they sentenced the bastard who killed my friend yesterday. Actually, “bastard” is too good a word, as it implies “human” and Derick Holliday is anything but human. Life in prison without parole. He deserved worse, much worse (the death of a thousand cuts comes to mind) … but, I guess, it’s the best that can be hoped for.
As for that moron’s family, spare me your remorse. No “good boy” takes a .44 Magnum and chases another human being down a crowded street shooting at them over an altercation in a movie theater. If you’re looking at someone to blame … look in a bloody mirror.
Actually, one thing could make things a (very) little better: If there was a service available that one could subscribe to that would send a single (postal) letter at a specific time once a year for the rest of Holliday’s life, I’d pay to send the same letter to him each year on the anniversary of his conviction. Why that date? Because that’s the day that, after being found guilty of murder in the first degree, he had the brainless audacity to look at the parents of the man he killed (because he got in the way of him trying to kill someone else) and say, “I hope you’re happy”. Idiot … but I digress. I’d pay to send the same letter to him each year:
In answer to your question … no, I’m not happy. But I’m satisfied that you will never be free to live your life the way you want to.