Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, Lex would wear a bunny suit. Why?
Because it's be funny!
A/N: I just want to give a huge shout out to everyone who reviewed!!! I love you all! *hugs and kisses*
*The Pheonix-Kiyoshi* Thank you so much for your inspiring reviews!! I do my best to please!
*DDS* I appreciate all your feedback and your insight!
*KatieShaz* thanx, I personally love that song (because I can totally relate-hence-the fic!) and for about the first ten times I listened to it, I couldn't help myself from crying.
*SelenaA*haha...I was hoping someone would pick up on that...yes it will be a chlark! Kudos to you for picking up on some clues!
Now, onto the story!!!
************************************
I was in the hospital a grand total of two days. I broke down and cried, actually really cried, only once. I wasn't going to let myself cry again, because I expected more from myself.
At home, I tried to push the whole horrid trip to metropolis from my mind, but it was no use. I'd find myself doing the dishes and wondering what her name was, my sister, and what it would be like to talk to her, ask her if she had any good memories of Mom. I only had one. Christmas, the year she left.
*********************************
i I didn't think it would be that cold, I hadn't even bothered to put on a proper jacket, preferring my new "Inspector Gadget" sweatshirt to anything. Daddy locked the car, and a brisk wind ruffled his thick brown hair, and he grinned, bending down and taking my hand. Mommy walked around the other side, her long blond hair beneath a toque with a pompom on top, and reached for my other hand.
It was Christmas tradition. There was a neighborhood in Metropolis, and every year, around this time, it would be decorated up like gingerbread houses and the North Pole, Santa's workshop with reindeer and sleighs and tacky Christmas lights. Everyone called it Tinsel town. I loved it.
We walked, hand in hand among the flickering lights and icicles, laughing and taking, pointing at snow men and other decorations. Mommy's laugh was like bells tinkling.
"Mommy, you laugh so pretty," I told her, shivering.
She bent down, kissing my red nose, and replied, "Thank you Chloe, Darling,"
She realized I was shivering, and ran her gloved hands up and down my arms to warm me up, and I felt so happy I could have died, Mommy was happy, she wasn't yelling, Daddy wasn't upset, and he and Mommy were smiling at each other, and it was all Christmas-y and perfect, everything smelled of pine and hot cocoa, and that strange comforting scent that seems to float around every Christmas.
I was starting to get really cold. Mommy noticed, and took off her old woolen jacket with the broken zipper. It had a hole under one of the arm pits, but it was her favorite anyways. She pulled my arms through the sleeves, and zipped me up, and it fell below my knees, but I reveled in its warmth.
We walked down to a man handing out cocoa from his front door, and we asked him how much it cost, but he said it was free, so we all took one, and he slipped me an Oreo too. I grinned at him as we left.
We turned down a corner, hand in hand, all of us, and there was a house decorated up like Mickey's Christmas Carol, and I broke away, throwing myself down the street to where it stood twinkling and colorful.
"Mommy!" I cried, "Daddy! Look! It's Goofy and Mickey and Daisy, Daddy!"
They ambled over at a leisurely pace, but I didn't notice, I was completely in raptures, standing there, itching to run on their lawn. My upturned face was caught in the glow of Christmas lights, and I breathed out, the steam glowing red and blue and green, all the colors of the lights, merrily strung about the trees.
Mommy came up behind me and picked me up, and I whispered in her ear, as if I was afraid to break the spell, "it's like magic Mommy. Magic,"
I could feel her smile. /i ***************************************
I needed to get it out; I couldn't bottle it up anymore and let it rip me apart inside, thinking of her, thinking of my sister, that Christmas. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it if I didn't, then I'd be giving up, she'd have won, and that wasn't going to happen.
I was not about to spend my days pining for a live I could never have. There was no purpose to it, no reason, yeah; it hurt, but so what? Other people had gone through even worse experiences than me, what right did I have to be so broken up about it?
Lana lost both her parents, and Nell was in Metropolis. Clark was given up for adoption, he didn't even know his real parents, but then he never seemed to want to. Who was I to go around and complain and cry over my mother when I still had my father? When part of my family was still around and still loved me?
I couldn't help how I felt, but getting it out of me some how, some sort of catharsis, that was what I needed to move on. So, three days after I got back home, I sat down at my computer, and opened my private file, my diary.
I poured out all my thoughts, everything I could remember, all the details, how the wind sounded, the feel of the window, how the light glinted off of the table. I didn't leave anything out, how I hated them for being happy, how I begrudged them their life, how jealous I was of my little sister.
All my insecurities and all of my faults were not hidden from that page. I knew my faults, I knew I had them, there was no use denying the fact. I wrote how I wished it could all be different, that I could wish them well, without any jealousy or any hurt. I poured out my soul, bared my heart, everything that had run through my head the past few days. Most of all, I wrote down that I wished I knew why, because that hurt the most. Not knowing why that new life was so much better, not knowing why her new kid was so much more important. Not knowing why she left of what I could have done to make her stay.
It was feelings I hadn't voiced, or even put on paper since I was nine years old, and it was still as raw and volatile as ever. I was wrung out, numb. It was finally done. I sat back, balancing on the back legs of the chair, blinking at the screen, the blue light pouring out of it. I stretched my hands out over my head and yawned. I hit save.
"Hey Chloe," Lana said, her voice soft as always. She pushed the door open a little further, stepping in. "Do you mind if I use your computer? All I need to do is finish up a report on the Napoleonic Wars. It shouldn't take too long."
I shrugged. "I guess. Why didn't you just use Dad's?"
"He's working on it right now, and it's due tomorrow." She told me, pushing her raven hair behind her ears.
"Yeah, no problem."
"Are you alright?" She asked perceptively, "your eyes are kind of red,"
"Oh, me? I'm fine. Just tired." I yawned, brushing it off.
"Alright. You just looked like you'd been crying or something," She said, digging out her diskette from her pink backpack.
She threw a glance over at me and smiled. Sometimes Lana could be too perceptive and other times...well.
"Me? What would I have to cry over?" I scoffed, closing the file and pushing the chair out. "just remember to shut it off when your done,"
A/N: I just want to give a huge shout out to everyone who reviewed!!! I love you all! *hugs and kisses*
*The Pheonix-Kiyoshi* Thank you so much for your inspiring reviews!! I do my best to please!
*DDS* I appreciate all your feedback and your insight!
*KatieShaz* thanx, I personally love that song (because I can totally relate-hence-the fic!) and for about the first ten times I listened to it, I couldn't help myself from crying.
*SelenaA*haha...I was hoping someone would pick up on that...yes it will be a chlark! Kudos to you for picking up on some clues!
Now, onto the story!!!
************************************
I was in the hospital a grand total of two days. I broke down and cried, actually really cried, only once. I wasn't going to let myself cry again, because I expected more from myself.
At home, I tried to push the whole horrid trip to metropolis from my mind, but it was no use. I'd find myself doing the dishes and wondering what her name was, my sister, and what it would be like to talk to her, ask her if she had any good memories of Mom. I only had one. Christmas, the year she left.
*********************************
i I didn't think it would be that cold, I hadn't even bothered to put on a proper jacket, preferring my new "Inspector Gadget" sweatshirt to anything. Daddy locked the car, and a brisk wind ruffled his thick brown hair, and he grinned, bending down and taking my hand. Mommy walked around the other side, her long blond hair beneath a toque with a pompom on top, and reached for my other hand.
It was Christmas tradition. There was a neighborhood in Metropolis, and every year, around this time, it would be decorated up like gingerbread houses and the North Pole, Santa's workshop with reindeer and sleighs and tacky Christmas lights. Everyone called it Tinsel town. I loved it.
We walked, hand in hand among the flickering lights and icicles, laughing and taking, pointing at snow men and other decorations. Mommy's laugh was like bells tinkling.
"Mommy, you laugh so pretty," I told her, shivering.
She bent down, kissing my red nose, and replied, "Thank you Chloe, Darling,"
She realized I was shivering, and ran her gloved hands up and down my arms to warm me up, and I felt so happy I could have died, Mommy was happy, she wasn't yelling, Daddy wasn't upset, and he and Mommy were smiling at each other, and it was all Christmas-y and perfect, everything smelled of pine and hot cocoa, and that strange comforting scent that seems to float around every Christmas.
I was starting to get really cold. Mommy noticed, and took off her old woolen jacket with the broken zipper. It had a hole under one of the arm pits, but it was her favorite anyways. She pulled my arms through the sleeves, and zipped me up, and it fell below my knees, but I reveled in its warmth.
We walked down to a man handing out cocoa from his front door, and we asked him how much it cost, but he said it was free, so we all took one, and he slipped me an Oreo too. I grinned at him as we left.
We turned down a corner, hand in hand, all of us, and there was a house decorated up like Mickey's Christmas Carol, and I broke away, throwing myself down the street to where it stood twinkling and colorful.
"Mommy!" I cried, "Daddy! Look! It's Goofy and Mickey and Daisy, Daddy!"
They ambled over at a leisurely pace, but I didn't notice, I was completely in raptures, standing there, itching to run on their lawn. My upturned face was caught in the glow of Christmas lights, and I breathed out, the steam glowing red and blue and green, all the colors of the lights, merrily strung about the trees.
Mommy came up behind me and picked me up, and I whispered in her ear, as if I was afraid to break the spell, "it's like magic Mommy. Magic,"
I could feel her smile. /i ***************************************
I needed to get it out; I couldn't bottle it up anymore and let it rip me apart inside, thinking of her, thinking of my sister, that Christmas. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it if I didn't, then I'd be giving up, she'd have won, and that wasn't going to happen.
I was not about to spend my days pining for a live I could never have. There was no purpose to it, no reason, yeah; it hurt, but so what? Other people had gone through even worse experiences than me, what right did I have to be so broken up about it?
Lana lost both her parents, and Nell was in Metropolis. Clark was given up for adoption, he didn't even know his real parents, but then he never seemed to want to. Who was I to go around and complain and cry over my mother when I still had my father? When part of my family was still around and still loved me?
I couldn't help how I felt, but getting it out of me some how, some sort of catharsis, that was what I needed to move on. So, three days after I got back home, I sat down at my computer, and opened my private file, my diary.
I poured out all my thoughts, everything I could remember, all the details, how the wind sounded, the feel of the window, how the light glinted off of the table. I didn't leave anything out, how I hated them for being happy, how I begrudged them their life, how jealous I was of my little sister.
All my insecurities and all of my faults were not hidden from that page. I knew my faults, I knew I had them, there was no use denying the fact. I wrote how I wished it could all be different, that I could wish them well, without any jealousy or any hurt. I poured out my soul, bared my heart, everything that had run through my head the past few days. Most of all, I wrote down that I wished I knew why, because that hurt the most. Not knowing why that new life was so much better, not knowing why her new kid was so much more important. Not knowing why she left of what I could have done to make her stay.
It was feelings I hadn't voiced, or even put on paper since I was nine years old, and it was still as raw and volatile as ever. I was wrung out, numb. It was finally done. I sat back, balancing on the back legs of the chair, blinking at the screen, the blue light pouring out of it. I stretched my hands out over my head and yawned. I hit save.
"Hey Chloe," Lana said, her voice soft as always. She pushed the door open a little further, stepping in. "Do you mind if I use your computer? All I need to do is finish up a report on the Napoleonic Wars. It shouldn't take too long."
I shrugged. "I guess. Why didn't you just use Dad's?"
"He's working on it right now, and it's due tomorrow." She told me, pushing her raven hair behind her ears.
"Yeah, no problem."
"Are you alright?" She asked perceptively, "your eyes are kind of red,"
"Oh, me? I'm fine. Just tired." I yawned, brushing it off.
"Alright. You just looked like you'd been crying or something," She said, digging out her diskette from her pink backpack.
She threw a glance over at me and smiled. Sometimes Lana could be too perceptive and other times...well.
"Me? What would I have to cry over?" I scoffed, closing the file and pushing the chair out. "just remember to shut it off when your done,"