A Moment to Capture

The next morning I wake up to the sound of my parents arguing in their room. Each time one speaks, the other one speaks louder in return until they reach the highest decibel they can. I groan and inwardly curse at our home's thin walls. The clock on my bedside table reads 7:03AM. It's a Saturday and I should be sleeping in.

"Think of the kids, Stuart!" yells my mom's muffled voice. "Or are you too much of a dumbass to care! Piece of lazy shit."

"Well if you care about the kids so much, then why are you still here? You're no better!" yells my dad.

"I'm leavin' for work! If I come back early, your drunk ass better be out doin' the same thing!"

I hear her slam their bedroom door shut as she stomps out of the house and into the driveway. The sound of our rickety old pickup truck eventually fades away and all is quiet now. But seconds later the silence is disturbed and I hear my dad cursing at himself, at no one. This is nothing new.

Mom tries her hardest now to keep us all in check by working extra hours, even if it means working on weekends at 7 in the morning. Dad's still trying to get the hang of it. They both still drink a lot, with mom falling in and out of her lapses a lot less, but at least when she's sober she's trying. If only dad weren't so lazy and inconsistent. But I guess it runs in the family.

I grab my battery powered portable radio and take it to the kitchen to start up a breakfast. There's no point in trying to go back to sleep now.

As I smell the eggs in the fridge to make sure they aren't rotten, the voice on the radio talks about a gas leak that happened downtown last night at midnight. A fire erupted and several people were hurt. I'm surprised I was lucky enough to miss it. I wasn't there to get caught up in the series of unfortunate events and die or something. The voice on the radio ends his report with, "But where is Mysterion now?" and I change the station to something else.

A popular upbeat song takes over, and it makes frying eggs more fun. I dance in front of the stove, frying pan and spatula in hand, as I wait for my breakfast to finish cooking.

"Morning," says a voice. I turn around to face Karen, my little sister, as she yawns and rubs her eyes in fresh awakening. Her light auburn hair sticks out at funny angles and a slight smirk is present on her lips. "You seem happy at this early hour."

"It's just the music. Mom and dad wake you up too?"

"Mhm."

I grab two plates for myself and Karen and give her half of my scrambled eggs.

"Here, eat up. Whatcha up to today, Karen?"

"Nothing, might go hang out with Ruby."

"At the Tucker's house again? You take care of yourself."

"I will."

I smile at Karen. At fifteen, she may not be so little anymore, but she's still my baby sister. When I think about it, Mysterion was just a game of make-believe until Karen needed a hero. He became the real deal when I chose to protect her at a low point in her childhood.

Now that we're older, Karen doesn't need him as much anymore. What used to be a shy, timid girl, grew into a pretty, confident young lady. Karen is fine on her own now and doesn't need any saving.



With nothing better to do at home, I decide to go for a quick run around the neighborhood. I run by Stark's Pond all the way to Harbucks once I realize how thirsty I am. Hopefully, Tweek is there working so he can hook me up with a free coffee.

Once I make it inside, Tweek is nowhere to be found. Instead, I find Jeanine sitting at a corner table on her laptop. Her camera bag is laid out on the table, alongside a hot cup of coffee.

"Jeanine?" I say as I approach her. "Man, I've been running into you a lot lately."

She looks up at me. "Well, it's only been once. But yeah, I guess. What are you doing here? It's eight-thirty in the morning."

"I went for a run. What are you doing here?"

She sighs. "There was a track meet at school this morning. Wendy assigned it to me for newspaper."

"So you're writing about it now?"

"No, I only had to take pictures. I'm writing for something else right now." She yawns.

"Damn. Newspaper seems more brutal than I thought," I say.

"At least I'm not stuck writing about some chess tournament. Trust me, it's not fun at all."

Jeanine takes a sip of her coffee as she types away. I'm tired from running, so I allow myself to occupy the other empty seat at her table.

"Are you writing your Mysterion story?" I ask her.

"Why would I do that now? I haven't had the chance to speak with him yet. Though maybe brainstorming some questions for him would be a good idea…" She rubs her chin as she ponders at the thought.

"You're that sure you're gonna meet him again?"

"Yeah. Is that weird? I mean I already ran into him once so why can't it happen again?" she says with a shrug.

"I don't know.. Did you hear about that fire downtown last night? Mysterion didn't show up to save anybody," I tell her. Maybe if I try to convince Jeanine that Mysterion isn't worth chasing after anymore, she'll drop the idea altogether. "He's been gone for so many years. Doesn't that seem lazy? What makes you think he's back for good?"

"Please. He's just taking a break. Something had to trigger Mysterion into becoming a hero. He can't just forget about it. He'll be back," she says confidently.

Images of a younger Karen flash in my mind. I recall her small, fragile figure as it got beaten up by school bullies. How she craved my protection and called me her guardian angel whenever she made an encounter with me. I would make mysterious appearances to save her and behind my mask, she would look at me like I was her savior. Karen was my trigger… but what does it mean if she doesn't seem to need me anymore?

"People need him," Jeanine continues. I can't tell if it's a trick of the lighting in this place, but her hazel eyes start to glisten again. "Mysterion will realize that and he'll be back. I know it!"

Two younger girls a couple of tables away seemed to have overheard us, because they snicker at Jeanine's remark. Jeanine's eyes flicker at them for a second, but she ignores it, takes another sip of her coffee, and continues typing.

"If you say so," I tell her. "Anyway, you seem busy. I'm gonna grab a coffee and head out."

Jeanine's eyes leave her computer screen to look up at me after I've gotten out of my seat. "You haven't forgotten your decision to help me, right?"

I look at her back. "No, no of course not. We can talk about it at school on Monday."

"Okay," she says. A wave of relief seems to flow through her. "See you then."

I order a coffee and leave Jeanine alone to finish her work at Harbucks.



After hanging out with the guys, I come back home around 10 at night. I open the door to find my dad lazing around on our living room couch with the TV on and empty beer bottles scattered on a patch of carpet in front of him. Judging by the fact that he isn't in his room yelling at anyone, no one else is home, including mom. She worked all day today.

The first thing dad says to me is, "Where's your sister?"

"She's out with her friends," I tell him.

Dad grunts. "She didn't say anything to me about it."

"She's a big girl, dad. She can take care of herself."

Karen stopped asking for permission to leave the house long ago, when dad would always be too drunk to care. Now, he seemed drunk enough that he actually did care.

I leave my dad in the living room and head straight to my room. I change out of my clothes into something more comfortable and lay in bed. It's not even that late at night but I'm already beginning to feel tired. Probably because I woke up so early. Soon after my eyes start feeling heavy, I hear my sister come home and my dad's elevated voice.

"Where have you been!" he yells.

"I was with some friends—"

"Do you know how late it is, young lady?"

"It's only ten, dad," Karen says. Then the sounds of struggle start. "Ugh, let go of me! You're drunk!"

"Next time you plan to stay out 'til it's dark, you tell me!"

"Okay, dad, just let me go!" More sounds of struggle, and then a slap. "What the hell, dad!"

"You need to be disciplined more. I can't have you running around doing who knows what!"

"As if you know any better! Ugh, god!"

The sound of Karen's footsteps ring throughout the house until she makes it into her room, slamming her door. I get out of bed and step into the hallway. Thankfully, dad doesn't come after her this time. I knock at Karen's door.

"Karen?" I ask.

"Come in."

I walk into Karen's room, expecting to see her crying or something, but she isn't. The side of her face is pink from a raw blow from dad and though Karen's eyes are moist with held back tears, she doesn't cry.

"You okay?" I ask her.

"Yeah."

I sit next to her on her bed.

"I hate when dad's like this," she says. Her expression seems toughened over the years of occasional abuse. "He's such an ass."

"I hate it too."

"And you know I hate being home unless you're home too," she tells me with a smile. "I mean, I'm fine on my own. But home seems better when you're around. So thanks for being a good brother."

"Any time, kid."

Once I'm assured that Karen's okay, I leave her room and go back into mine. I lay in bed and before I fall asleep, thoughts of a young Karen run through my mind again. She used to cower behind me, cry in her room, and avoid bullies at school. Now, she takes shit from people in a different way. Instead of crying about it, she stands up for herself and walks away like the smart, dignified girl she has grown to be.

As horrible as it may sound, I kind of miss the times she would cry.. when she would need me to be her hero. Now, she appreciates me as a brother, sure, but that's all.

I sigh and turn out my lights. Life is probably better this way, anyway. Karen shouldn't have to rely on Mysterion or anyone else if she wants to mature into a strong woman.

People like Karen don't need a masked hero to make their lives better. I don't need them to make my life better, either. All I get out of it is violence and death anyway. And no one ever seems to remember..