Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. Whether or not that goal can be reached, we'll see... This is The 365 Project, 8 January.
Disclaimer: "Smallville" and related characters and situations are the property of DC and WB, used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit. All other characters and situations that may appear within are the property of their creators and owners and also used without permission or intent to profit.
"Memorial"
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'
Growing up, Martha Clark had been taught early on that hate poisoned the soul, that you couldn't have a relationship of love and forgiveness if you had hate in your heart. It had been over twenty years since the last time she had heard her mother say that, but Martha Clark Kent was feeling those words and every day of her years as she looked at the items laying on the corner of her son's dresser; because looking at them, she was sorely tempted to hate herself.
Nearly everything was laying on a scarf of purple silk, stretched and frayed near the ends as though someone had pulled on it. Martha was sure she knew what it was, even if she wasn't sure how it had come to be in her son's possession instead of the Sheriff's. Seeing the scarf hurt because it was a physical reminder of what she had helped her son lose because she let her disappointment in some of his actions outweigh her trust in his judgement, judgement that had been proven right in the end at too great a cost for him.
There was a bracelet made of lead, broken by her son's own hands. Martha shook her head, she had been so focused on the fact that they had run off to Las Vegas that she had allowed herself to forget a simple thing; that it had been a year since they had seen each other and her son had still been in love with the girl. Reaching out, she carefully picked up and opened the small jewelry box that was sitting next to the bracelet, unable to hold back a soft gasp as she looked inside to see a necklace with a red stone. Quickly shutting the box and setting it back in its place, Martha closed her eyes, because she had just seen the proof that she was wrong, that her son had loved the girl enough to marry her anyway and the only thing that would have changed would have been the details. He had told her about the stone in that necklace and Martha knew from the one that had been in his class ring that it didn't make him do anything he didn't want to do at heart, it only made him unafraid of the consequences of doing it. Consequences like the anger and disapproval of his parents, consequences that they had proven were real. The girl hadn't made Clark do anything he didn't want to; if he was willing to marry her, it was because he already wanted to marry her someday.
'Mom, there's a part of me that never feels freer than when I'm with Alicia. She makes me feel normal and special at the same time.'
Her son's words echoed in Martha's head as her eyes reached the next item, a band of white lace that she automatically knew had encircled the girl's leg in Las Vegas, the girl that her son had cared for so much. Martha had heard that the girl's life growing up hadn't been good for her because of her powers, part of the reason that the girl had latched onto Clark after discovering that he had powers of his own, it probably gave her the same feeling of normality and freedom that she had given Martha's son... a son who had been a blessing to Martha and her husband after learning that they would never be able to have children that would be biologically theirs... and instead of welcoming her to the family as their son's wife, as their daughter, Martha and Jonathan had turned against them both and then only made things worse by not supporting them when the rest of the town had turned on the girl... only for them to be wrong and for her to be the worst victim of all those attacked, for her to die because not only had no one supported her, they had even gone so far as to do their worst to keep Clark from supporting her as well... and she had been innocent.
Martha wanted to cry, she hadn't supported her son and the girl should've been like a daughter to her and she had been innocent all along. That only made the last item hurt even more; a picture of her son and the girl facing each other in front of a priest in a dimly-lit chapel. The picture hurt most of all, because it was of good quality, someone looking at it could easily see the love for each other shining in the couple's eyes. Love that Martha knew she had helped take away from her son. Martha clenched her eyes closed for a moment to stop the tears from coming before she quickly left the room. She hadn't trusted Clark's judgement and now she had betrayed her son's trust, even if he'd never know. That small corner of the world, that small corner of his dresser, wasn't for Clark's parents or his friends... it was just for him and the woman who should've been his wife...