Miss. Morix

8

Lois handed me a cup of coffee. I had never finished my own since I was eager to see what Lois had to say. Clark wasn't home at the moment, so there was no tense feelings of being watched .

"Did you get a chance to look in to the bullet I gave you?"
"Briefly. Just found out the layered components and what they are. I'm not sure where it came from." She nodded.
"Well, I ask because I think it's important in solving just what it is I want the judge to see."
"Which would be what Lois?"
"That Superman was framed."
"By whom?"
"If I knew that much I wouldn't have asked you to look in to it."
"Right"

I sipped on my coffee.

"So that's what this supposed trial is about? You set it up, didn't you?"
"Yeah, sort of. It wasn't hard to convince the federals to hold a hearing. It's different than a committee meeting run by Senator Finch, but it was what I was able to convince the federals of."
"Why was that so—"
"Easy? Ah, because if they want to convince the people of Metropolis he's human, they have to treat him like one. This means equal liberties."
"And so you think the bullet you gave me would...what? Be evidence?"
"Precisely." She nodded with a smile.
"Then I promise to look in to it before the hearing."
"Thank you so much! This would mean a lot to me and Clark. You know that."
"Of course. I don't want to see Clark reprimanded any more than you do."

Her smile spread wider, as if she were radiating optimism. She sprung up from her seat.
"How about I jump in the shower, and we can go out for a bit? It's a beautiful day. No need to spend it cooped up in my little apartment! You're family, do whatever you want. Lounge around, I won't be long. The remote is over there if you need it."

     She went for her shower and I reached for the remote. As I leaned over to grab it, I noticed Lois' orangey brown notebook across the room. I hesitated, but eventually stood up to go take a look at it for no reason other than to solely inspect the bullet hole one more time. Until I stood in front of the small table it was sitting on. Under it was a blue folder labeled: stenography.
     It was snooping. It was. Nevertheless if I were going to ease my curiosity, I would have to look through it. It was thin enough that there couldn't possibly be too much to look in to. I debated it with myself and then realized I would eventually run out of time when Lois stepped out of the shower. My justification to ease my guilty conscious was one of which said I was somehow warranted to see it, only because I was helping to supply evidence in support of whatever was in the envelope.
     As I opened it, a symbol in the right hand corner stood out to me immediately. I knew it. It was a forensic company's logo. They're stationed here in Metropolis. I continued to read and found the object the records were for was indeed the bullet Lois had given me. There were pictures, and charts in-explicitly showing the breakdown of the materials. Continuing on, I saw a place of origin. That's what I needed to know. What I didn't have. More importantly, that's what she asked me for. But it's here, she already has it.

LexCorp

     Lois had the bullet tested already almost immediately after she had been either abducted or held hostage. I wasn't really sure. My confidence in trusting what she has been telling me began to slide away as I continued to read the document in front of me. It stated that Alexander Luthor was responsible for what had happened in the desert in which Lois found herself in danger. She was trying to get Lex thrown in to jail thinking it would solve the disputes against Superman's moralities.
     My stomach turned completely upside down. In fact, it was doing somersaults. I wasn't sure what I was feeling but it certainly was not what I wanted to. My mind began to race. As it filled with numerous thoughts I couldn't help but wonder why she would want me to test the bullet in the first place. This company was top of the line, and would certainly mean more as a testimony than the word of a friend no matter how well I was able to support it with my own research.
     That was, unless she merely wanted the word of a LexCorp employee. Surely that would be additionally credible in every aspect of the trial. I would be exposing the head of my company. Not only would I be risking my job, which seems moral, I'd be thought to have the inside sources and experiences that would make me reliable. She didn't mention this either. Why? Was she counting on the fact I would never know this test was already done? Was she doubtful in my abilities to crack the 'mystery'? Or was she waiting for me to realize what Clark has been telling me all along? That Lex Luthor was unpredictably dangerous. I didn't care which it was. It didn't matter. I immediately felt she should have spoken to me about this. She should have been upfront from the beginning. She should have been honest. Like Lex.
     Lex's reasoning for having me join LexCorp was clear from the beginning. His motives were put out on the table specifically. His files were shared. He trusted me. He didn't undermine my potential or abilities to get the work done. His emotions and his rationale were openly discussed. A shiver ran down my spine as I thought about the proximity in which they were discussed. If I tuned myself to the feeling, I could almost feel his finger on my chin delicately.

No man in the sky intervened when I was a boy todeliver me from daddy's fist and abominations

     I rested the folder back on to the table. It didn't matter if she wanted my research for credibility purposes, or if she had this test run in case I couldn't figure it all out myself. It didn't matter if she would have told me after she got what she needed for her stories, for the trial. It didn't even matter if she had wanted me to find Lex appalling. I didn't think that at all. I began to feel quite the opposite. Instead he felt almost relatable.

You and I my dear...are going to growintermittently...almost erratically...and certainly ingenuously

     The pit that had stemmed was growing. It was coating much obscurity and much resentment. Even taking deep breaths wouldn't rid the quarry from the vibrations of betrayal. The pit rattled as it manifested my perceptions and the stems wrapped around my rib cage. It felt nauseating briefly as my chest felt it would implode. A few moments went by and it settled. And with it came the slowing of thoughts protruding my thought process. With it came the undeniable desire to see him.