You know how they say that when people die they go to heaven?
How do we know that?
How do we know they're not truly gone and their souls are dispersed
somewhere, like in a vacuum or a limbo?
They're in peace now; they're happy, they don't suffer anymore.
But the people who loved them are left behind to feel the hole left by
them, the searing pain that something, somewhere went wrong, they could
never see them again.
Death is just another step of our long, complicated lives, but how do we
know it isn't the final one we take?
We don't see them ever again after all; how do we know their lives weren't
wasted away, chasing some idiot alien fantasy –
No, that wound is too deep.
My own son was an alien from Krypton.
He was the one thing that kept our family together; Martha and I could not
have children, so when we found Clark after the meteor shower, we saw it as
a blessing.
Little rascal wouldn't stop running round the house when we first brought
him in.
After his adoption files came through, and he was a Kent to everyone else, Clark became the town's shining beacon. When the spaceship made it so that Martha became pregnant, I thought our family could not be happier. And of course I was right; for Clark destroyed the spaceship, and destroyed us as we drove towards the house. I blamed it, oh yes it is true. And I wish I'd never done it; even as I screamed at him outside that hospital door, nonsense about how he didn't have the right to make such a choice and act it through by himself, how his choice affected others too, and he had to stop doing it. I drove him out of that door myself. Martha miscarried, and I drove Clark out the front door. I haven't told her yet, for she is still not well enough to endure any more stress and perhaps it is that I cannot bring myself to believe how quickly our family shattered.
Wife lying in a hospital bed after a serious life-threatening miscarriage, a big hole burnt in the ground right on front of the house, the pick-up destroyed, I am myself a wreck and as for Clark...he will forgive me one day, I know he will. For that is Clark's nature. But he will remember; and so will I. I don't think it will go away this time. If only he hadn't acted so rashly. If only we had trusted him enough not to drive back to the farm, maybe we wouldn't have been affected by it so badly. If only everyone would just leave us be. He is OUR son, nobody had the right to take him away, or threaten the world he has always know to be his home. My mind is exploding with the sheer impossibility of it all, I cannot get it round to think as far as to figure a way out of this. Martha still sleeps but I can't help but feel relieved for that; had she known what I had done, she wouldn't be sympathetic, she would just drive the fact that I pushed Clark away even deeper, and I don't need that.
********
They took him away he's not here anymore. Clark? Where's my baby? And I don't really need an answer to that question, do I? I haven't seen him since before the wedding ceremony, and Jonathan has that certain look in his eyes that tells me that Clark isn't home either. They took him away, my baby boy isn't at home where he belongs. LEAVE US ALONE! YOU LEAVE US ALONE!
You had no right. You hear me? You had NO right!! You abandoned him when he was a baby, and we found him and took care of him; we love him, he's our son. He's not yours anymore: you forfeited that right to look at him in the morning and marvel secretly at how perfect every little thing he does is. You left him to wander alone and unattended in the Galaxy; God only knows to end up where. You call yourself a parent? Why are you after him after all this time? What drove you to pursue and end all his dreams right when he – we were the happiest family on the face of this planet? You cannot possibly know what it is like to live with his secret day after day, this terrible weight dragging around his life so much that he cannot so much as bring himself to play sports games with his classmates?
Even I felt it stifling and unbearable to carry at times; other boys would play on the swings and the slides in the park, whilst Clark just sat next to me, holding my hand, his sad little eyes looking so sad and sorrowful at the laughing piers of his age, having fun, whilst he remained there, being laughed at and called names. But my boy was brave, oh yes he was; much more than everyone at his age had any right to be. He would just wade into the danger and rescue whoever it was that needed rescuing; he always did. Any other wouldn't have gotten involved at all, but that was Clark, always so noble, so brave, so caring.
WHY must you persist in tormenting him? Isn't it enough that he's suffered so much and worked so hard towards being together with the girl of his dreams, since he was five?! YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE, YOU HEAR ME? LEAVE MY BABY ALONE. My darling, darling baby.
I became so entranced every time I looked at him or heard about his achievements; his skin looked so healthy, so normal, so impossibly * beautiful *. I remember the first time he bled, oh God how I remember. He'd never had so much as a little cut ever in his whole tiny life. He was close to his fifth birthday playing out in the barn whilst Jonathan fixed the old tractor and I was working on the plans I had for the upstairs to the barn; I was going to make it into his personal hide-out every time things got too oppressive. He liked to gaze up at the sky so much, I was sure that when he was old enough, he would receive a telescope for his birthday, when he would be a big boy.
There were little green stones scattered here and there, and I paused and looked at them thoughtfully; they'd never been there before. How did they get there? A little cry awoke me from my reverie and I gazed down, only to have my stomach hurl my breakfast upwards with such speed, I felt too dominated by the compulsive, driving need to just whip my head round and let it all out.
Clark had cut his finger with an old, rusty farm nail, which meant that it had to be cleaned fast and quickly, then get a shot for it. The cut wasn't very big, nor was it deep, but it was my son's blood, and it made me sick to see it. The thought of his lovely skin being pricked and slashed made my head spin. Jonathan was already cleaning the wound saying something but I stood there, still unable to comprehend that it was over and Clark would be fine.
Such fuss over the teensiest pin-prick, Martha, you're getting too soft. And yet that pin-prick remains with me to this day; I remember the sheer terror of seeing my baby hurt, ad hated myself for not checking it was safe for him to play out there; I suppose the fact that he never fell ill drove me blind to the possibility that he might one day get hurt. I glared at that unworthy piece of rusty metal; how dared it hurt my baby? You bad! You did a bad thing! Bad farm nail, bad farm nail!
Then I turned to stare back at Clark and Jonathan, and I actually screamed. I screamed so bad my throat felt like burning liquid had just been forced down it. Clark was on the floor, his small little body thrashing about, his eyes rolling back into his head, breath shuddering out with a wheeze that sounded like it was coming from a pneumonia-affected boy. A green something was running over his body, tracing every vein and artery in him, searing my little boy with what must have been unbearable pain at that age. God the thought still makes me whimper with the sheer torture of it all. And now he's been hurt again, and this time I cannot help at all.
I remember that it was Jonathan who had seen him first, we were turned upside down in he pick-up, after the meteors striked. When he turned around to me, something changed forever in his gaze, in our lives, in the universe. A tiny pair of little feet was poking out of the window, and then I saw myself looking up into the most beautiful thing I had ever laid my unworthy eyes on: this perfect little boy's face, the most breath-sucking blue eyes looking inside the van, and then, would you believe it – he smiled. Oh God that smile would have brought me back from the dead, so dazzling it was.
I never liked sobbing, screaming little drama queens, but this time it's me that cries, it's me that feels wave of pain after wave of pain wreaking my soul, shaking the foundations our happiness was so lovingly built on. Already its balance is precarious, the death of our family suddenly hitting me so transparently that all the breath is knocked out of me.
But don't you worry, my darling, we'll build it back. We'll find it again, and we'll get over this eventually. You and your father will sort out your differences and I will be next to both of you, smiling and encouraging this wonderful feeling that is both so dazzling and devastating in its power. I think they call it love. Oh yes, my darling, my pride, my shining boy, I'll rescue you this time. I'll help you climb out and take you back home.
Listen to me my baby, we need you now; we always will. The death of a family is never rendered so final, so clear until its children are forever destroyed or estranged from it. Don't you cry, honey. Your mummy's here, I'm holding you, please stop sobbing oh please, stop this pain tonight and come home with me, so your father can stop pretending. My beautiful little men; both so alike and yet so different. Both too stubborn for their own good, both value their damn pride too much.
But you'll stop this, won't you Clark? You'll make it right, like you did when you poked your little head under the upside-down widow and into our lives, forever marking us so painfully, so dearly with your shining smile that it isn't possible to live without you. Think of Lana, and Pete and Chloe. Think of Lex and how he didn't even get his witness at his wedding day; he was so disappointed that you failed to show up. Think of your father, who is just too stubborn, his pride too strong to let out that he is lost without you. Think of ME, your silly mummy needs you here to hold her hand, dear. But you'll come back, I know you will; after all, what's a family without a child in it.
Come to mama, darling baby; she needs you so much. You won't leave her alone to drift through life like a leaf being strung by a tornado. She loves you very much, and she wants you back; you're too precious for her to be without you, you see. It's so cosy in here, in the dark, in the warm alcove where the world can't disturb us. You're so pale, my darling. There, there; let me hold you while you cry. Everything is going be all right. Mama loves you so much, oh yes, oh yes.
A.N./ And here is chapter two to The Cruelty of the Stars; please R&R and tell me what you think. A big huge 'thank-you' to who reviewed her thoughts on it.
Lady Zee
After his adoption files came through, and he was a Kent to everyone else, Clark became the town's shining beacon. When the spaceship made it so that Martha became pregnant, I thought our family could not be happier. And of course I was right; for Clark destroyed the spaceship, and destroyed us as we drove towards the house. I blamed it, oh yes it is true. And I wish I'd never done it; even as I screamed at him outside that hospital door, nonsense about how he didn't have the right to make such a choice and act it through by himself, how his choice affected others too, and he had to stop doing it. I drove him out of that door myself. Martha miscarried, and I drove Clark out the front door. I haven't told her yet, for she is still not well enough to endure any more stress and perhaps it is that I cannot bring myself to believe how quickly our family shattered.
Wife lying in a hospital bed after a serious life-threatening miscarriage, a big hole burnt in the ground right on front of the house, the pick-up destroyed, I am myself a wreck and as for Clark...he will forgive me one day, I know he will. For that is Clark's nature. But he will remember; and so will I. I don't think it will go away this time. If only he hadn't acted so rashly. If only we had trusted him enough not to drive back to the farm, maybe we wouldn't have been affected by it so badly. If only everyone would just leave us be. He is OUR son, nobody had the right to take him away, or threaten the world he has always know to be his home. My mind is exploding with the sheer impossibility of it all, I cannot get it round to think as far as to figure a way out of this. Martha still sleeps but I can't help but feel relieved for that; had she known what I had done, she wouldn't be sympathetic, she would just drive the fact that I pushed Clark away even deeper, and I don't need that.
********
They took him away he's not here anymore. Clark? Where's my baby? And I don't really need an answer to that question, do I? I haven't seen him since before the wedding ceremony, and Jonathan has that certain look in his eyes that tells me that Clark isn't home either. They took him away, my baby boy isn't at home where he belongs. LEAVE US ALONE! YOU LEAVE US ALONE!
You had no right. You hear me? You had NO right!! You abandoned him when he was a baby, and we found him and took care of him; we love him, he's our son. He's not yours anymore: you forfeited that right to look at him in the morning and marvel secretly at how perfect every little thing he does is. You left him to wander alone and unattended in the Galaxy; God only knows to end up where. You call yourself a parent? Why are you after him after all this time? What drove you to pursue and end all his dreams right when he – we were the happiest family on the face of this planet? You cannot possibly know what it is like to live with his secret day after day, this terrible weight dragging around his life so much that he cannot so much as bring himself to play sports games with his classmates?
Even I felt it stifling and unbearable to carry at times; other boys would play on the swings and the slides in the park, whilst Clark just sat next to me, holding my hand, his sad little eyes looking so sad and sorrowful at the laughing piers of his age, having fun, whilst he remained there, being laughed at and called names. But my boy was brave, oh yes he was; much more than everyone at his age had any right to be. He would just wade into the danger and rescue whoever it was that needed rescuing; he always did. Any other wouldn't have gotten involved at all, but that was Clark, always so noble, so brave, so caring.
WHY must you persist in tormenting him? Isn't it enough that he's suffered so much and worked so hard towards being together with the girl of his dreams, since he was five?! YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE, YOU HEAR ME? LEAVE MY BABY ALONE. My darling, darling baby.
I became so entranced every time I looked at him or heard about his achievements; his skin looked so healthy, so normal, so impossibly * beautiful *. I remember the first time he bled, oh God how I remember. He'd never had so much as a little cut ever in his whole tiny life. He was close to his fifth birthday playing out in the barn whilst Jonathan fixed the old tractor and I was working on the plans I had for the upstairs to the barn; I was going to make it into his personal hide-out every time things got too oppressive. He liked to gaze up at the sky so much, I was sure that when he was old enough, he would receive a telescope for his birthday, when he would be a big boy.
There were little green stones scattered here and there, and I paused and looked at them thoughtfully; they'd never been there before. How did they get there? A little cry awoke me from my reverie and I gazed down, only to have my stomach hurl my breakfast upwards with such speed, I felt too dominated by the compulsive, driving need to just whip my head round and let it all out.
Clark had cut his finger with an old, rusty farm nail, which meant that it had to be cleaned fast and quickly, then get a shot for it. The cut wasn't very big, nor was it deep, but it was my son's blood, and it made me sick to see it. The thought of his lovely skin being pricked and slashed made my head spin. Jonathan was already cleaning the wound saying something but I stood there, still unable to comprehend that it was over and Clark would be fine.
Such fuss over the teensiest pin-prick, Martha, you're getting too soft. And yet that pin-prick remains with me to this day; I remember the sheer terror of seeing my baby hurt, ad hated myself for not checking it was safe for him to play out there; I suppose the fact that he never fell ill drove me blind to the possibility that he might one day get hurt. I glared at that unworthy piece of rusty metal; how dared it hurt my baby? You bad! You did a bad thing! Bad farm nail, bad farm nail!
Then I turned to stare back at Clark and Jonathan, and I actually screamed. I screamed so bad my throat felt like burning liquid had just been forced down it. Clark was on the floor, his small little body thrashing about, his eyes rolling back into his head, breath shuddering out with a wheeze that sounded like it was coming from a pneumonia-affected boy. A green something was running over his body, tracing every vein and artery in him, searing my little boy with what must have been unbearable pain at that age. God the thought still makes me whimper with the sheer torture of it all. And now he's been hurt again, and this time I cannot help at all.
I remember that it was Jonathan who had seen him first, we were turned upside down in he pick-up, after the meteors striked. When he turned around to me, something changed forever in his gaze, in our lives, in the universe. A tiny pair of little feet was poking out of the window, and then I saw myself looking up into the most beautiful thing I had ever laid my unworthy eyes on: this perfect little boy's face, the most breath-sucking blue eyes looking inside the van, and then, would you believe it – he smiled. Oh God that smile would have brought me back from the dead, so dazzling it was.
I never liked sobbing, screaming little drama queens, but this time it's me that cries, it's me that feels wave of pain after wave of pain wreaking my soul, shaking the foundations our happiness was so lovingly built on. Already its balance is precarious, the death of our family suddenly hitting me so transparently that all the breath is knocked out of me.
But don't you worry, my darling, we'll build it back. We'll find it again, and we'll get over this eventually. You and your father will sort out your differences and I will be next to both of you, smiling and encouraging this wonderful feeling that is both so dazzling and devastating in its power. I think they call it love. Oh yes, my darling, my pride, my shining boy, I'll rescue you this time. I'll help you climb out and take you back home.
Listen to me my baby, we need you now; we always will. The death of a family is never rendered so final, so clear until its children are forever destroyed or estranged from it. Don't you cry, honey. Your mummy's here, I'm holding you, please stop sobbing oh please, stop this pain tonight and come home with me, so your father can stop pretending. My beautiful little men; both so alike and yet so different. Both too stubborn for their own good, both value their damn pride too much.
But you'll stop this, won't you Clark? You'll make it right, like you did when you poked your little head under the upside-down widow and into our lives, forever marking us so painfully, so dearly with your shining smile that it isn't possible to live without you. Think of Lana, and Pete and Chloe. Think of Lex and how he didn't even get his witness at his wedding day; he was so disappointed that you failed to show up. Think of your father, who is just too stubborn, his pride too strong to let out that he is lost without you. Think of ME, your silly mummy needs you here to hold her hand, dear. But you'll come back, I know you will; after all, what's a family without a child in it.
Come to mama, darling baby; she needs you so much. You won't leave her alone to drift through life like a leaf being strung by a tornado. She loves you very much, and she wants you back; you're too precious for her to be without you, you see. It's so cosy in here, in the dark, in the warm alcove where the world can't disturb us. You're so pale, my darling. There, there; let me hold you while you cry. Everything is going be all right. Mama loves you so much, oh yes, oh yes.
A.N./ And here is chapter two to The Cruelty of the Stars; please R&R and tell me what you think. A big huge 'thank-you' to who reviewed her thoughts on it.
Lady Zee