[ WP ] The City 's local Superhero suddenly dies of unknown causes and , for whatever reason , his will leaves all his possessions to you , his arch-enemy .

`` But you ca n't just give her all of the Captain's stuff,'' the reporter cried out excitedly. `` she's the villain!'' 
 
 The mayor nervously dabbed at his forehead with his handkerchief. `` I know that it seems wrong, but Captain Justice specifically stated in his will that all of his possessions - *everything* - should go to Lady Darkness. We, uh, ca n't really go against that.'' 
 
 `` What about gifts and awards that the city gave him?'' another reporter asked, shoving a mic into the mayor's face. `` Does the Lady get those, too?'' 
 
 `` Right, those. Yes, most likely. I do n't see why they would n't --'' 
 
 His sentence was drowned out by a storm of questions that erupted from the masses. One was prominent and repeated: 
 
 `` Are you *sure* his death was n't caused by the Lady herself?'' 
 
 That's enough. With a snap of my fingers, I turned off the television set and stared at the blank screen, letting the emotions inside me squirm and churn. 
 
 `` Idiots, the lot of them,'' I muttered out loud. I glanced at the boxes that lay strewn across the living room floor. They were damaged, mostly because UPS had all but thrown them out of their trucks before speeding away from my house. I sent flying a charm to flatten their tires. but I have no idea if it hit. Do n't really care either. 
 
 *Miaow. * I shot a look at Tiger. The little tabby looked at me curiously. I ruffled his fur and then got up with a heavy sigh. Might as well take a look through his crap. I sliced the tape off the largest box with a razor-sharp fingernail. 
 
 Most of it was, just as I predicted, crap. Random non-fiction novels, paintings, and no less than four jigsaw puzzles. `` Are you kidding me?'' I said as I lifted a pair of purple dumbbells. `` He's fucking with me from beyond the grave.'' 
 
 There was a small note attached to his trophy for'Excellence in Selfless Service to Our Community'. `` Open the small, red box. It's the most important one,'' I read as I tossed the brass trophy into my fireplace. `` You ca n't tell me what to do!'' I shouted at the note. It did n't respond. I decided to open the red box. 
 
 It was filled with little trinkets, like toy cars and a worn hamburger-shaped eraser. At the bottom, there was a slim booklet. My stomach knotted a little as I flipped the album open and and looked through the laminated photos. There he was, standing tall and proud and smiling, even at age seven, with grumpy frumpy little me next to him. In one picture, I was sticking my tongue out at him, while he hugged me tightly, beaming like the sun. 
 
 The pages after our 14^th birthday together were blank. That's when the accident had happened, and everything had changed. He got lucky - adopted by a family who loved him and grew to cherish his strange powers. I was shunted around like a piece of broccoli on a kid's plate. Remembering, I subconsciously traced some of my scars. 
 
 As I began to put the album down, a bit of white caught my eye. I fished out a single piece of looseleaf from the inner jacket of the album book and smoothed it out. The slow burn began in my eyes as I read it out loud: 
 
 *Dear Sis: * 
 
 *Just wanted to say sorry. Sorry for how everything turned out. Sorry for not being there for you when you needed it most. Sorry we kinda sorta became arch-enemies ( I like to think that we still had fun. We fought when we were kids, too! Just not at 100 meter elevations ). * 
 
 *Sorry I have to go now. I guess being a Captain of Justice does n't protect you from sudden onset pancreatic cancer, huh? Doctors tried to help me but, well, not much they could do. They'll probably keep it hush for a while. People think I'm damn near invincible... hey, even I did. Does n't seem fair. Is that ironic? I do n't know. You were always the smart one. * 
 
 *Look. I know you and I feel differently about the city - and people in general. I ca n't stop you from being you, especially... now. But try to forgive, OK? There are good people in this world. I know you're gon na disagree, but I really do think that deep down, you're one of them. You're a good person. I just know it. * 
 
 *Anyway. Sorry for dumping all this stuff on you. I gave away all my money to charities and stuff, but I do n't think anybody wants my random things. Maybe you do n't, either. Go ahead and get rid of them, if you want. But maybe keep the album and toys? I still remember the'us times' fondly. * 
 
 *Love you. * 
 
 `` You naive, optimistic, sentimental, bumbling idiot,'' I said hoarsely. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve as I placed the letter back in the album, where it had been hidden. `` Love you, too. Always have, always will.'' 
 
 
 
 
 

