**Author's note: I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and review my very first fan fiction. As this story draws near to its conclusion, there is something I would like to do. I want to give a special thanks to the following readers/reviewers:
*Sylphide*
*Suz*
*CLSolo*
*Furi15*
*tals*
Your consistent reviews are the stuff of inspiration! Thank you.
And also, I hope I don't confuse anyone with the Chloe/Lily parts. Let me know if I do.
Chloe leaned back in her chair and picked up her diary from her desk. She smiled as she read over the entry.
*Dear Diary,
I now have a different response when I think of the fact that I am in love with Clark Kent since I now know that he loves me back. My heart quivers when he comes to mind, instead of sinking straight to the pit of my stomach. God, I feel like a teeny bopper when I'm around him, and I have even begun to draw hearts on my notebooks with the words 'Clark Loves Chloe' in them. And it's completely true!
Forgive me, but something inside of me won't let me feel sorry for Lana. I mean, I really didn't take anything away from her. Clark was never hers, not exactly. I am the one that Clark opened up to, I am the keeper of his heart. He gave it to me willingly. I don't think it's awfully selfish of me to be ecstatic over the fact that I am dating the guy of my dreams. Would I be bad if I just said she'll get over it? I know her heart feels like it has been stomped on by Cupid himself, but better her than me, right? Oh, I have just given myself a few mental kicks for having both written and thought that. But seriously, am I right? Anyway, thoughts of Lana are depressing and I refuse to let go of this lover's high that I am just reveling in.
Clark kissed me a total of six times today! How sweet of him to make sure it was never in front of Lana. Pete rolled his eyes and told us on the three occasions he caught us kissing to get a room. I know he was just joking, he's happy for us.
Clark held my hand when we walked and called me sweetheart. I wonder if he felt the heat rising off my cheeks when he called me that. And when I had thought the farmboy, *my farmboy*, God I love the sound of that. Stay calm Chloe, and try not to drool. When I thought the farmboy had spent all of his love tokens, he goes and improvises a poem for me on the spot! I remember every word, especially the part about my hair looking like shimmering strands of enchanted sunlight, flipped to golden perfection. That's how I could tell he improvised it. The last part of that made my hair sound like deep fried chicken or something. I thought it only fair that I improvise a poem about him too. I loved the way his cheeks glowed red as I recited the words. I just couldn't resist him and we kissed for the forth time today.
Life is almost too good to be true.
Goodnight, Diary*
Chloe flipped the diary closed and stood to go over to her window. She pulled the drapes aside and looked out at the stars that dotted the sky. Smiled when she realized that she no longer needed to make a wish on one. Clark was finally hers.
She started to turn away from the window, but didn't. She thought she heard a faint hum from beyond it and cracked the window so she could hear better. It was then that Chloe realized the hum wasn't coming from outside, it was in her head. She slowly closed the window and backed away. The sound wasn't disturbing, it was alluring, almost beckoning.
There was no time for panic as her legs suddenly moved of their own volition. Her mind had been trained to a passive state by the hum and she could no longer form her own thoughts. She exited her room and moved quietly down the stairs. Her father had already turned in for the evening, so no lights remained on inside the house. Once she reached the bottom, Chloe proceeded to the front door and out of the house. Dressed only in an oversized blue T-shirt and blue socks, she headed toward a destination not of her own choosing.
***
The wind whistled through the trees, sending their dead leaves swirling to the ground. The chill of the air continuously swept against Chloe's skin as she put one foot in front of the other. The hum increased in volume as she pressed on, filling the void in her head where thoughts should have been. She couldn't feel the harsh wind beating and bruising her skin with cold. She only moved wherever her legs took her.
Cars were scant on the backroad she had taken. Though a gray haired man in a green truck did slow his vehicle to match Chloe's pace after realizing she didn't belong out on the road. He called out to her, but she kept walking, blinking every so often. The blank look on her face was unchanging.
"Hey, little girl." His voice was gruff and kind of loud, like he was intoxicated. Impatient with her lack of verbosity, he banged his hand on the side of his door. "Hey! Yoohoo?! he sang to her. He tried snapping his fingers, but got no response. "Damn meteor freaks!" The tires of the truck screeched as he pulled off.
Chloe continued to walk her perfect line down the side of the road, completely unaware of the reckless drunkard in the green pickup as he sped down the street.
***
The manor wasn't quiet like it had been. Chloe opened the door and stepped inside to see objects flying furiously around the room. When it seemed that they would hit the walls, they turned sharply and moved in the other direction. She stood just inside the door where several objects came dangerously close to colliding with her head. Candles, a few dusty books, a rusted fire poker. She remained perfectly unflinching the entire time.
The wooden supports of the staircase banister started cracking and popping, struggling to get loose until one was finally released and whizzed across the room, joining the chaos. One by one, the supports broke away and began circling the room.
Chloe stepped forward, never dodging once as the objects flew by her face and in back of her. She entered the next room where an empty table sat. As she neared the table, its legs thumped lightly on the floor. With each step she took, the table went deeper and deeper into a fit, knocking wildly on the floor. The hum in her head rose louder to overcome the rattling of the table. With a sudden pop, the table exploded off the floor and turned onto its top. The flying objects crashed forcefully into the walls simultaneously, making a thunderous noise and sending a quake throughout the walls. What was left of them dropped lifelessly to the floor.
All was quite, save the hum. No cold, no pain, only mild heat warmed her from the inside out and the hum ceased. Chloe turned to observe the medley of broken wood, candle wax, and torn books. She smiled satisfactorily at what she saw. As she walked back through the room, she swept aside the mess in her path with her foot. She opened the front door and took a deep breath. It felt damn good to breathe again.
***
Enough of Chloe's memory remained intact for Lily make it back to her house. She dragged herself up the stairs and slowly peeked into the first door she came to, a bathroom. She flipped on the switch and opened the door wide enough to step through, then shut it behind herself.
She studied her reflection, turning her head from side to side. She cautiously touched her golden locks, tracing the upside-down curls with her fingers. "Strange hair." She was startled by her voice. It was...different. Too perky.
Lily played with Chloe's hair, tossing it, putting it up with her hands and letting it fall again. She smiled at the mirror. "Not bad, strange hair though. I've never been blond." It had been a while since Lily had seen her real reflection, but she remembered her own face. Green eyes had been replaced with gray ones. She could definitely work with this.
She left the bathroom and went down the hall to the next door. Before she settled on a room, she checked all of them to see how many people were there. The only person she discovered was a middle aged man sleeping peacefully in bed. Must be daddy.
She went back to the second room, the only other one with a bed and looked over it with both eyes and hands. She made her way over to the closet and slid back hanger after hanger of clothing. Hardly any dresses. This would take some getting used to, she thought with pursed lips.
A book lying on the desk peaked her curiosity and she picked it up. She had no access to the girl's memories and maybe this could fill her in a little. She turned to the first page and let her eyes skim the words. Becoming interested in the content of what was obviously a diary, she backed up to the bed and stretched across it. She read for hours, all the way through to the last entry, utterly intrigued that this little blond had such a strong voice. She wrote a lot about a boy named Clark. It was evident from the latter entries that this Clark person and the blond girl were currently in a relationship. Maybe she'd pay him a visit tomorrow.
*Sylphide*
*Suz*
*CLSolo*
*Furi15*
*tals*
Your consistent reviews are the stuff of inspiration! Thank you.
And also, I hope I don't confuse anyone with the Chloe/Lily parts. Let me know if I do.
Chloe leaned back in her chair and picked up her diary from her desk. She smiled as she read over the entry.
*Dear Diary,
I now have a different response when I think of the fact that I am in love with Clark Kent since I now know that he loves me back. My heart quivers when he comes to mind, instead of sinking straight to the pit of my stomach. God, I feel like a teeny bopper when I'm around him, and I have even begun to draw hearts on my notebooks with the words 'Clark Loves Chloe' in them. And it's completely true!
Forgive me, but something inside of me won't let me feel sorry for Lana. I mean, I really didn't take anything away from her. Clark was never hers, not exactly. I am the one that Clark opened up to, I am the keeper of his heart. He gave it to me willingly. I don't think it's awfully selfish of me to be ecstatic over the fact that I am dating the guy of my dreams. Would I be bad if I just said she'll get over it? I know her heart feels like it has been stomped on by Cupid himself, but better her than me, right? Oh, I have just given myself a few mental kicks for having both written and thought that. But seriously, am I right? Anyway, thoughts of Lana are depressing and I refuse to let go of this lover's high that I am just reveling in.
Clark kissed me a total of six times today! How sweet of him to make sure it was never in front of Lana. Pete rolled his eyes and told us on the three occasions he caught us kissing to get a room. I know he was just joking, he's happy for us.
Clark held my hand when we walked and called me sweetheart. I wonder if he felt the heat rising off my cheeks when he called me that. And when I had thought the farmboy, *my farmboy*, God I love the sound of that. Stay calm Chloe, and try not to drool. When I thought the farmboy had spent all of his love tokens, he goes and improvises a poem for me on the spot! I remember every word, especially the part about my hair looking like shimmering strands of enchanted sunlight, flipped to golden perfection. That's how I could tell he improvised it. The last part of that made my hair sound like deep fried chicken or something. I thought it only fair that I improvise a poem about him too. I loved the way his cheeks glowed red as I recited the words. I just couldn't resist him and we kissed for the forth time today.
Life is almost too good to be true.
Goodnight, Diary*
Chloe flipped the diary closed and stood to go over to her window. She pulled the drapes aside and looked out at the stars that dotted the sky. Smiled when she realized that she no longer needed to make a wish on one. Clark was finally hers.
She started to turn away from the window, but didn't. She thought she heard a faint hum from beyond it and cracked the window so she could hear better. It was then that Chloe realized the hum wasn't coming from outside, it was in her head. She slowly closed the window and backed away. The sound wasn't disturbing, it was alluring, almost beckoning.
There was no time for panic as her legs suddenly moved of their own volition. Her mind had been trained to a passive state by the hum and she could no longer form her own thoughts. She exited her room and moved quietly down the stairs. Her father had already turned in for the evening, so no lights remained on inside the house. Once she reached the bottom, Chloe proceeded to the front door and out of the house. Dressed only in an oversized blue T-shirt and blue socks, she headed toward a destination not of her own choosing.
***
The wind whistled through the trees, sending their dead leaves swirling to the ground. The chill of the air continuously swept against Chloe's skin as she put one foot in front of the other. The hum increased in volume as she pressed on, filling the void in her head where thoughts should have been. She couldn't feel the harsh wind beating and bruising her skin with cold. She only moved wherever her legs took her.
Cars were scant on the backroad she had taken. Though a gray haired man in a green truck did slow his vehicle to match Chloe's pace after realizing she didn't belong out on the road. He called out to her, but she kept walking, blinking every so often. The blank look on her face was unchanging.
"Hey, little girl." His voice was gruff and kind of loud, like he was intoxicated. Impatient with her lack of verbosity, he banged his hand on the side of his door. "Hey! Yoohoo?! he sang to her. He tried snapping his fingers, but got no response. "Damn meteor freaks!" The tires of the truck screeched as he pulled off.
Chloe continued to walk her perfect line down the side of the road, completely unaware of the reckless drunkard in the green pickup as he sped down the street.
***
The manor wasn't quiet like it had been. Chloe opened the door and stepped inside to see objects flying furiously around the room. When it seemed that they would hit the walls, they turned sharply and moved in the other direction. She stood just inside the door where several objects came dangerously close to colliding with her head. Candles, a few dusty books, a rusted fire poker. She remained perfectly unflinching the entire time.
The wooden supports of the staircase banister started cracking and popping, struggling to get loose until one was finally released and whizzed across the room, joining the chaos. One by one, the supports broke away and began circling the room.
Chloe stepped forward, never dodging once as the objects flew by her face and in back of her. She entered the next room where an empty table sat. As she neared the table, its legs thumped lightly on the floor. With each step she took, the table went deeper and deeper into a fit, knocking wildly on the floor. The hum in her head rose louder to overcome the rattling of the table. With a sudden pop, the table exploded off the floor and turned onto its top. The flying objects crashed forcefully into the walls simultaneously, making a thunderous noise and sending a quake throughout the walls. What was left of them dropped lifelessly to the floor.
All was quite, save the hum. No cold, no pain, only mild heat warmed her from the inside out and the hum ceased. Chloe turned to observe the medley of broken wood, candle wax, and torn books. She smiled satisfactorily at what she saw. As she walked back through the room, she swept aside the mess in her path with her foot. She opened the front door and took a deep breath. It felt damn good to breathe again.
***
Enough of Chloe's memory remained intact for Lily make it back to her house. She dragged herself up the stairs and slowly peeked into the first door she came to, a bathroom. She flipped on the switch and opened the door wide enough to step through, then shut it behind herself.
She studied her reflection, turning her head from side to side. She cautiously touched her golden locks, tracing the upside-down curls with her fingers. "Strange hair." She was startled by her voice. It was...different. Too perky.
Lily played with Chloe's hair, tossing it, putting it up with her hands and letting it fall again. She smiled at the mirror. "Not bad, strange hair though. I've never been blond." It had been a while since Lily had seen her real reflection, but she remembered her own face. Green eyes had been replaced with gray ones. She could definitely work with this.
She left the bathroom and went down the hall to the next door. Before she settled on a room, she checked all of them to see how many people were there. The only person she discovered was a middle aged man sleeping peacefully in bed. Must be daddy.
She went back to the second room, the only other one with a bed and looked over it with both eyes and hands. She made her way over to the closet and slid back hanger after hanger of clothing. Hardly any dresses. This would take some getting used to, she thought with pursed lips.
A book lying on the desk peaked her curiosity and she picked it up. She had no access to the girl's memories and maybe this could fill her in a little. She turned to the first page and let her eyes skim the words. Becoming interested in the content of what was obviously a diary, she backed up to the bed and stretched across it. She read for hours, all the way through to the last entry, utterly intrigued that this little blond had such a strong voice. She wrote a lot about a boy named Clark. It was evident from the latter entries that this Clark person and the blond girl were currently in a relationship. Maybe she'd pay him a visit tomorrow.