#moebus

His morning starts the same as it always does. He stands in front of the gaudiest of mirrors in his apartment as he prepares for the day.  Soft music drifts in through the open window, as well as sweet smells of perfumes and elegance from the streets below. Moebus looked at himself in the mirror. His blonde hair hung uncharacteristically around his face, coming to rest on his shoulders. He would like to wear his hair like this someday, it was quite freeing.

He picked up his hair tie and pulled his hair back and tied it in a tight ponytail. Wearing his hair in such a way was not proper for someone of his standing.  He was not free.

He stepped away from the mirror and entered the kitchen where his brother sat eating a slice of bread with sugar and butter on it, an old favorite of theirs. Moebus pulled out the chair across from his brother and sat.

“How is mother?” He asked. Omar turned his eyes up at him only slightly. “She is fine, she is far better than what she has been for years.” Omar responded quietly. Moebus nodded, he didn’t talk very well about his mother. Despite her being his mother, he did not know her that well.

He decided to change the subject.

“Brother?” He began looking to him again.

“Hm?” Omar responded raising only his eyebrows,  now looking down at a sheet of paper on the table.

“Why do you tell no one we are kin?” Moebus asked resting his head on his hand.

“You see child, your mother is very ill..” The caretaker spoke in an attempt to educate as she packed her things. Moebus was only two at this time, still very young and very dependent on adults, and here they were all leaving or gone. Moebus did not speak, he only sat on the edge of the bed which he and the caretaker had once shared. She looked up at him and smiled losing all heart to tell the child all these hardships.

“You are such a sweet child. I hate to go darling, I really do.” She closed the straps to her carrier.

“But, This job doesn’t pay the way it used to.. As much as I’d like to stay with you, I need the money.” She whispered as she pulled the small boy onto her lap to give him a final hug. His thumb found its way into his mouth as she held him in her arms for the last time. “I have my own family you know. They live all the way in Alinor. I am going back there tonight.” Moebus moved his head to look up at her such love and trust in his eyes. It made her almost want to stay, or bring him with her..

“I have a son, just like you. He’s five.” Moebus laughed and stuck his tongue out playfully. She laughed loudly and hugged him tight.

“He’s bold like you too.” She beamed and pulled his head up to give him a small kiss. Moebus screamed and giggled happily, wiggling  in her lap until she let him down. She stood and brought her bags to the front door setting them down heavily. Moebus followed her clinging to her dress. How would she leave him.. His brother was eight, still so young himself, she’d done her best to teach him what she knew, he had already accompanied her when she cared for the boy’s mother.. He knew how to administer her medicine and where to get it and how much was needed. He was already cleaning when she first came to the family before the birth of Moebus. She’d did her best to teach him how to cook and garden.. She just hoped that he would be okay on his own. She looked at Moebus and picked him up again, to which he responded by screaming happily and giggling.

A few short drabbles of Moebus’ childhood

(childhood) A harsh lesson is learned.

“No! No! I cannot look upon him! Not now!” Moebus was pushed from his mother’s room by his older brother. His mother was having another episode.. She often took terrible fevers in which she would become.. Odd, not like herself.

“Go sit at the table Moebus and stay there. Don’t move and don’t come in.” Omar seethed at him slamming the door in his face. Moebus did as he was told and sat at the kitchen table. He could still hear his mother’s screaming muffled only by the door.

“He looks like his father! oh, why did he have to go love? Why?” Moebus  shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His mother often had trouble looking upon him. The rare occasions that she would see him, she would  tell him about how much he looked like his father, she would speak only of his father and never asked him the things other mothers asked their children. He didn’t like being told that, but he did like seeing his mother. The screaming died down, and soft mumbles of quiet talking could be heard before his brother finally emerged again from their mother’s room. He looked tired and stressed as he leaned heavily against the door.

“Is  Mummy ok Omar?” Moebus asked getting off of his chair at the table to approach his brother.

“She’d be fine if it wasn’t for you!” He said anger ablaze in his face. He glared at Moebus eyes brimming with angry tears ready to fall. He pulled away from the door, storming off into their shared room slamming the door behind him. Moebus now stood alone in their living area unsure of what was happening or why no one would talk to him.  He spent a  moment more of standing before he finally turned and opened the front door and walked into the evening air.