Discovery
Part 8
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The door slammed shut behind her. Martha slowly walked through the kitchen of her quiet home and tried not to see the perfect table or the letter they had dropped on the floor. She walked past them, not thinking about anything. She had obligations. Things that had to be done. She couldn't break down now, and looking at those little reminders would crack her stony shell.
That's what it felt like she was now, a shell. A hollowed out corpse with no feeling inside. No emotions, no personality, and no weaknesses. Nothing could touch her and she could deal with surviving through a day. Nothing could reach her, because she was nothing.
She made it into her bedroom and sat on her side of the bed, as she had when they had first come home yesterday. The phone was right there and she needed to start calling. She had to keep the world moving and let the news move on to others. If no one knew, though, then it was almost as if it wasn't happening. Everyone would act the same and they wouldn't even realize that everything had gone horribly wrong.
Martha could go to the market and act as if it was just another day. She could be consoled for the loss of that woman, Cassandra, a person she had never met. People would look on at her sympathetically and she could brush it off, because she hadn't known that woman. She would simply accept their pity and move on, because she felt no grief. People would forget about it over the week and something more exciting would happen for everyone to never give it a second thought. Would they act the same with Clark? Forget she had ever had a son? Look at her with pity and move on to the next part of their day.
She couldn't live like that. She couldn't pretend that nothing out of the normal had occurred and she couldn't forget. She had to deal with this. And to deal, she had to pick up the phone lying so casually before her. Who to call? Who would she hurt first? Who would be given the awful news first?
Jonathan was still at the hospital with Clark. He hadn't left his side. Night and day, Jonathan was there, holding onto the lifeless hand. Sometimes, he would clutch onto it and, if Martha opened the door quietly and didn't announce her presence, she could hear him talking at the motionless form.
They couldn't keep living in this limbo. Not going anywhere, not healing, not trying, and not doing anything to help their little boy. They needed to move forward. They had to get the world turning again.
Martha picked up the phone and dialed, number by number.
She clutched onto the receiver as tightly as she had seen Jonathan holding on to the hand she hadn't touched in days.
"Hello, may I speak to Principal Kwan, please?"
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"Ms. Corten?"
"Yes?"
"Could you come down to the office for a staff meeting?"
"Now?"
"Yes, now. It's urgent."
"Alright, I'll be there in a minute," Ms. Corten hung up the phone and grabbed the last of the essays. She'd been at the school for three long hours after the last bell rang. Maybe she'd be able to finish correcting before dinner that night, though it didn't seem to be a likely possibility. Principal Kwan just had to call a surprise meeting now.
She turned out the lights of her classroom and locked the door behind her before heading down the hall.
When she entered the office, the secretary, old Mrs. White, the same secretary from when she had gone to Smallville High, pointed to the door and went back to her typing with an air of dismissal.
It was odd that even after four years of college and another year of teaching, she was still intimidated by the principal's office, she thought as the standard butterfly feeling grew with every step towards Kwan's office. Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, Ms. Corten entered the room, surprised to see that six of her colleagues were already there.
They were an odd group of people, science, history, math, and Spanish teachers and the two guidance counselors.
"Sorry I'm late," she said while going to sit in the last available chair.
"That's fine, Ms. Corten. Thank you all for coming in on such short notice. I called you all in here to discuss a particular student. Yesterday there was… an accident on Kent farms and Clark Kent is in the hospital. He's in a coma right now, but the doctors… they don't think he's going to wake up."
A slow silence stretched through the tight circle of adults. Every one of them had Clark in one of their classes. Every one of them knew him.
"As his teachers, I wanted to tell you first. You're going to need to be ready to answer questions in your classes when the news is announced tomorrow."
Ms. Corten's mind went blank except for one thought, "What… what happened to him?"
Principal Kwan looked down at his folded hands and said in a strained but steady voice, "All evidence at the farm pointed to an attempted suicide."
"Kent? He doesn't… he didn't act like… he was so happy though. He has… had a good life. Right?"
"We don't know why he thought he had to do it, but we have to think about how this will affect the school and the students. A session is being made available for any of the students to go and talk about Clark, and guidance counselors should be prepared. Nothing like this has happened here before. People are going to be… shocked."
Ms. Corten looked up with her troubled and haggard face, "Is there anything we can do for the Kents?"
She'd known the Kents since she was… well, for her entire life. She remembered seeing Clark for the first time after he was adopted. She remembered the wonderful people Jonathan and Martha had been and how they had been made more complete by having their son. She remembered how happy they had been. How could Clark have been so lost that he chose suicide as a way out? What could be so horrible?
"The Kents? They just lost their son. I don't know ifanyone can do anything to help them."
