not reacting at all
By blondie
cdiminyatz@hotmail.com
* I don't own anything*
* don't post my story without asking.ask nicely*
* I don't know if Chloe has any brothers or sisters.I just added that in for the hell of it*
*please review.your opinions matter to me*
Chloe's p.o.v.
Within an a week, I had been able to put the whole thing behind me. I had enjoyed waking up in Clark's arms.it wasn't just another dream.
The winter dance was tonight and I was going, not with anyone or anything, but Clark and Pete were going to be there and what else was did I have to do on a Friday night?
Pete was actually bringing his date.
Clark kept smiling and mentioning how Lana said that she owed him TWO dances.
Like I said, I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.
****
I walked over to my locker, happy to practically empty my backpack into it. I got in a bit of a spat with my locker lock, but afterwards he apologized and we made up.
As soon as I had the locker open, a picture fell out. It was your basic three by five picture; I picked it up right away just to make sure that it hadn't gotten wrecked as it had come untaped from my locker door.
The first thing I noticed was that it wasn't one of my pictures.
The second thing was that there had been some digital work done on this picture. Things had been added to it, or changed.
The third thing was that it was a picture of me; sleeping; on my bed; from earlier that morning.
The forth thing I decided to focus on was the digital work done to it. Both my eyes had been blacked, one made more swollen than the other. I had a cut fat lip, and a little blood dripping form my nose.
The final thing I noticed was that my throat was slit in the picture.
I couldn't scream.
I couldn't even breathe.
My skin turned to ice as my blood ran cold. My lungs seemed to burn; a sensation that made me sick to my stomach as the outside of me was freezing and the inside boiled. I could only see the picture, anything in the background was black and blurry. It was suddenly silent, aside from my own heart beat, which seemed to change it's pace every four seconds.
****
1 Clark's p.o.v.
I thought something had been wrong with Chloe since last week when she had come to my house, around nine at night.
I've known her long enough to know that she wasn't going to talk unless you caught her red handed. She didn't really like confrontation, and she would avoid any problem for as long as possible hoping that things would sort themselves out.
When I saw her at her locker, I knew this was something big. She seemed so frozen, like if I touched her she would break.
Chloe doesn't look like that when nothing is wrong, and even if something is wrong, she will still try to look tough cause she hates to be and/or appear vulnerable.
She had all her defenses down. She didn't even seem to be there. She just kept staring at whatever was in her hand, it was the only thing that kept her from just breaking down and crying. What was that.a note? A picture?
"Chloe?"
****
Chloe's p.o.v.
There are points in my day when I just zone out. I don't just sit there and not think at all like some people, I play a song in my head.
Usually I can think of a song for every occasion. I couldn't for this one. No words seemed to describe it right.
I had to keep thinking it as nothing; if it was thought of something then I would have to react as I felt and I would have to involve someone else in my own petty difficulties. If I didn't feel anything, if I didn't show anything, it wasn't anything.
I didn't even hear Clark.
I just put the picture in my pocket and walked away.
I had to get home and get ready for the dance.
I wasn't about to make a big deal of something that I couldn't let effect me.
'They can only hurt you if you let them.'
I was tired of getting hurt, and plus I planned on breaking down emotionally at home, where Clark wasn't there to ask me what was wrong, and I could be alone.
****
Clark's p.o.v.
It didn't surprise me that she just walked away from whatever the situation was. What surprised me was that she had left her locker wide open, along with her backpack, and she hadn't even put one book in her locker.
I knew then that if she wasn't going to tell me what was going on, I needed to find out on my own, by ALL means necessary.
By blondie
cdiminyatz@hotmail.com
* I don't own anything*
* don't post my story without asking.ask nicely*
* I don't know if Chloe has any brothers or sisters.I just added that in for the hell of it*
*please review.your opinions matter to me*
Chloe's p.o.v.
Within an a week, I had been able to put the whole thing behind me. I had enjoyed waking up in Clark's arms.it wasn't just another dream.
The winter dance was tonight and I was going, not with anyone or anything, but Clark and Pete were going to be there and what else was did I have to do on a Friday night?
Pete was actually bringing his date.
Clark kept smiling and mentioning how Lana said that she owed him TWO dances.
Like I said, I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.
****
I walked over to my locker, happy to practically empty my backpack into it. I got in a bit of a spat with my locker lock, but afterwards he apologized and we made up.
As soon as I had the locker open, a picture fell out. It was your basic three by five picture; I picked it up right away just to make sure that it hadn't gotten wrecked as it had come untaped from my locker door.
The first thing I noticed was that it wasn't one of my pictures.
The second thing was that there had been some digital work done on this picture. Things had been added to it, or changed.
The third thing was that it was a picture of me; sleeping; on my bed; from earlier that morning.
The forth thing I decided to focus on was the digital work done to it. Both my eyes had been blacked, one made more swollen than the other. I had a cut fat lip, and a little blood dripping form my nose.
The final thing I noticed was that my throat was slit in the picture.
I couldn't scream.
I couldn't even breathe.
My skin turned to ice as my blood ran cold. My lungs seemed to burn; a sensation that made me sick to my stomach as the outside of me was freezing and the inside boiled. I could only see the picture, anything in the background was black and blurry. It was suddenly silent, aside from my own heart beat, which seemed to change it's pace every four seconds.
****
1 Clark's p.o.v.
I thought something had been wrong with Chloe since last week when she had come to my house, around nine at night.
I've known her long enough to know that she wasn't going to talk unless you caught her red handed. She didn't really like confrontation, and she would avoid any problem for as long as possible hoping that things would sort themselves out.
When I saw her at her locker, I knew this was something big. She seemed so frozen, like if I touched her she would break.
Chloe doesn't look like that when nothing is wrong, and even if something is wrong, she will still try to look tough cause she hates to be and/or appear vulnerable.
She had all her defenses down. She didn't even seem to be there. She just kept staring at whatever was in her hand, it was the only thing that kept her from just breaking down and crying. What was that.a note? A picture?
"Chloe?"
****
Chloe's p.o.v.
There are points in my day when I just zone out. I don't just sit there and not think at all like some people, I play a song in my head.
Usually I can think of a song for every occasion. I couldn't for this one. No words seemed to describe it right.
I had to keep thinking it as nothing; if it was thought of something then I would have to react as I felt and I would have to involve someone else in my own petty difficulties. If I didn't feel anything, if I didn't show anything, it wasn't anything.
I didn't even hear Clark.
I just put the picture in my pocket and walked away.
I had to get home and get ready for the dance.
I wasn't about to make a big deal of something that I couldn't let effect me.
'They can only hurt you if you let them.'
I was tired of getting hurt, and plus I planned on breaking down emotionally at home, where Clark wasn't there to ask me what was wrong, and I could be alone.
****
Clark's p.o.v.
It didn't surprise me that she just walked away from whatever the situation was. What surprised me was that she had left her locker wide open, along with her backpack, and she hadn't even put one book in her locker.
I knew then that if she wasn't going to tell me what was going on, I needed to find out on my own, by ALL means necessary.