Miss. Morix

25

            To be brutally honest, the insides of Metropolis Manor seemed pretty dull and rather creepy. Some of the paint was peeling, and all of the rooms, although homey, seemed to be very overdue for an upgrade. It was way better than a prison cell though. At least Mason could watch television, or read, or socialize, or even call outsiders to socialize. At least he'd be allowed outside to enjoy the sunlight as opposed to doing manual labor. Above all, at least I'd have insight on how he was doing.

"Mr. Mason Morix? You have someone here who would like to see you."

      Out of a doorway came a man I would still recognize immediately. He was a younger me, but still resembled me. He was painfully thin, and his face was particularly bony, but his eyes still shone as they always had. There were scars on his arms from shooting up, but the fresh Band-Aid on the fold of his left arm was a reminder that those scars were depictions of a past that would start to dissipate from sight. I felt tears welling in my eyes as he walked towards me. A huge lump, or what was probably saliva and mucus, caught at the bottom of my throat. I was going to sob, I could tell already.

"Mira?" He looked at me as if sun was shining brightly in his face. "Mira! Oh God Mira!" He ran to close the gap between us and pulled me in the tightest embrace I've ever been in. "I am so happy to see you Mira. I fucking owe you my life. I fucking...I just love you."

     He was crying, I could tell. As I rubbed his back, I started to as well. He began to shake, holding me tighter. We stayed like this for some time. We were simply sharing moments upon moments of being mutually grateful. We were each other's only family. Both of our parents had been killed, rather brutally, in a falling skyscraper when Metropolis had been attacked by Zodd. We were alone and I took care of Mason like he was my own. I wasn't going to allow anyone, and I mean anyone, convince me he should be in a foster care system. I was old enough, or so I thought, to take care of him myself as I began my college journeys.
     As I reminisced all of this, with my baby brother in my arms, I couldn't help but practically realize that perhaps I had blamed myself for his substance abuse issues. It was blatantly possible I felt I needed to fix what was wrong as a result of what I was able to, and not able to, do. That seemed like such a silly thought to me now though. I was more aware of how it all took place, and what I couldn't stop on my own. I was seemingly grateful to have gone to school instead of staying home at all hours with Mason. Where I thought raising him with more of a centered focus would have prevented him from becoming meanly addicted, I was grateful to have not tried to cater. It was paradoxical, with no clear end. It didn't matter, because right now, in this moment, we were a team again.

"They started today." He backed away from me, holding out his arm. I examined it.
"How do you feel?"
"I feel fine." His eyes were bloodshot from crying. I imagined mine looked puffy.
"Did it burn?"
"Not any more than the drugs themselves did my nose."
"So it did burn?"
"For like, two seconds." I nodded. His arm didn't appear to have any reactions to it.
"Do you feel sick?"
"I don't, no. Actually, I don't even have a headache."
"A headache?"
"I used to get them all the time in prison."
"Really? Like, migraines?"
"They were bad migraines, yeah. The whole back of my neck would tense up, and I'd get a migraine, and after a while I'd feel like I was gonna puke Meers."

     I stared at him, gently smiling. It as a faint, weak smile, but it was a smile. Of course, not because of the agonizing headaches, no, more like, because he called me by his childhood nickname. He hadn't done that in a while, not even over the phone. He seemed confused, as if he actually thought I was happy to hear about his pain.

"Meers?" His confusion subsided and he smiled just as warmly.
"I know that I'll see you again now. I can say it freely. I can say it without bursting in a million tears. Believe me when I tell you, you can't cry in prison. You think crying in public is rough? Geez, I wouldn't be surprised if that was the first thing I did when I got out of here!"

When he got out of here.

     He sounded so determined and motivated. He sounded like he had plans. I pulled him in to a hug and kissed his cheek. "It's so good to see you Masey." He stared at me, sighing heavily.

"Go check the stuff you have to check, would you? You have to get to work don't you?"
"I don't think Lex will mind if I'm a tad late."
"Oh yeah? How is that going?"
"What? The job? Obviously very well." I chuckled.
"Ah, bogus. I mean the love life Meers. I won't be having one for quite some time it seems. So, I have to live through you!"

I chuckled. Of course.

"On that note, I gotta go Masey. I'll see you tomorrow. Go socialize or something."
"Socialize? I'm going to go eat." He smiled. "I have an appetite, it's kinda nice."

His happiness was evident, and so mine lingered on for the rest of the day.