Chapter Two
Chloe looked at Clark, seeing his wonderful smile. His dark hair. Gorgeous eyes. She couldn't believe it. There he was. Safe and sound. But, that was the problem. She knew something was off. She blinked, but when she opened her eyes, she didn't see Clark. She was in her room. In her bed. It was all a dream.
God, why can't all of it have been a dream?
Chloe refused to go to sleep. Not after that. She made her way to the kitchen. She filled a mug with hot water, and added a packet of hot chocolate mix. She had run out of coffee the night before. Going out in public wasn't an option right now, so hot chocolate would have to do.
Of all the people in the world, why did it have to happen to Clark? Why did he have to be tortured? Why did he have to be killed?
"Why?"
The sound of her own voice startled her. It dawned on her that she hadn't spoken more than five words in at least three days. Not even at Clark's funeral. Martha had asked if she wanted to say a few words. But, she couldn't. Not without breaking into tears. Not without blurting out what happened. Not without a complete breakdown.
Why didn't he kill me, too? Why couldn't I go with him? Why did this whole ordeal have to happen?
The day he disappeared she thought she wouldn't be able to live till he was found. But, how could she live now, knowing where he was? It seemed impossible. Every minute was like an hour. Every hour was like a day. She couldn't go on like this. No one could.
But, it wasn't like she could just put it behind her. She couldn't just forget him. He was an amazing individual, and he didn't deserve what happened. He didn't deserve all the pain. The terror…
Clark started to stir, and moaned in protest as his back refused to do his bidding. He kept his eyes closed, partly in pain, and partly in fear. Never in his wildest dreams did he think of this.
The psycho predator moved his hand to his pocket. He slowly pulled out a small metal object…
Quit thinking of it! Just stop! Chloe pleaded with herself to not continue the memory. It took all her willpower, but she didn't think of the minutes that had scarred her. She didn't think of that, but instead later, when she had to tell the Kents that their one and only son had been murdered. Horribly murdered, and that they would never see him again. At that point, she herself couldn't believe. Even now…
Martha had almost fainted. Jonathan was speechless. The only sounds out of that room for the next hour was crying. The sound of three people's tears as they fell to the ground. The sound of gasping for breath between sobs.
Is that really the best thing you can think of? Chloe asked herself.
Her mind turned to a moment from two weeks past. A moment that Chloe would never forget. The time she and Clark were at the Talon, on a couch in the corner. The time she had expressed how much she was still in love with him. How he had…
The sound of a phone interrupted her thoughts. She walked over to the kitchen counter, where she had left her cordless phone. But, it had been pointless. Simply a wrong number. But, thankfully, it had pulled her thoughts away from that place she just didn't want to go to then. She just couldn't think of happy times. Not now. Not when the dirt on Clark's coffin was still fresh. Not when she couldn't go one hour without shedding a tear. Crying felt good at that point. She didn't have anything better to do.
She decided that she might as well try to write something for the Torch. But, when she had booted up her laptop and opened a program, not a single word could come out of her fingers.
She ran one hand lightly over the keys, and start pressing random buttons. A window popped up on screen.
She somehow had opened her deleted folder. The place where she once placed all photos of her and Clark. They jumped out at her. The photos from Spring Formal. Some of them in the loft of his barn. At a pep rally freshman year.
Unshed tears glistened in her eyes as she quickly closed the computer. Dang it Clark! Why did you have to die? Why did you have to leave?
She ran back to her room, and closed the door. Lying on the bed, she broke down. The scene came flooding back.
A single flame lit up the large room. The hand holding it moved it closer to the still form on the floor. Clark was about to pass out again. He couldn't stay awake. Not to go through more of what that person had in for him.
Chloe stood up quietly, ready to ambush. But, before she could reach him…
She was startled by a loud wind rustling the trees outside. One was knocking against her window. Banging. Endless banging.
Chloe turned, and looked out the window. She stared out at the moon.
Summer has come to pass
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends
Like my fathers come to pass
Seven years has gone so fast
Wake me up when September ends
Here comes the rain again
Falling from the stars
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are
As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends
Who knows how long she lay there. At some point she fell asleep. Away from the pain.
Away from everything.