(5): I just (saw) did what? (Clark's POV)

(Spring; April 1996: Clark: 11, Jonathan: 35, Martha: 34):

The world around me was dark spanning into what seemed endless save for a pillar of light in a blue-ish Hugh that surrounded me. I looked down at my hands -- they were larger than I remembered them, especially since I'm only Eleven years old, these hands looked like adult hands, covered with veins like I seen on my Dad's hands and calloused. I looked around but saw nothing. I knew for a fact that I was stark naked, curled up like a cat somewhat. I didn't feel happy at all, of that much I assessed from this strange place --- I had a nasty stinging feeling on my chest and someone was talking to me.

I didn't know who but I didn't like whoever it was in the least. In fact I resented him to an extent -- I think because my expectations of meeting this person or thing were greatly overrated and shot down in a blaze of fire --- I resented him for what he to my . . . Dad I think? I think he hurt my Dad, I don't know what where my mother is, this makes me worry. Where is she? Did this thing hurt my Mom or did he just kill her? No, no, I think my Mom is safe. But what Lana? And Pete and Chloe -- wait a minute who's Chloe? ---, are they all right? Did this thing hurt them too? Hey . . . its getting kinda wet in here . . . I think I should . . . wake up. Yeah, that's it! Wake up Clark Kent! This is nothing but a bad . . .

". . . Dream," I mumbled as I awakened from my dream state. Thunder rumbled in the distance but the rain came down hard on every part of the house except the inside, naturally. I sat up slowly regaining my senses for the real world still trying to come to terms with that eerie dream I had. I felt like I knew what was happening but something inside of me told me it was completely foreign. Groaning I made a move to climb out the bed to check on my parents when I felt something moist on my legs as well my lower body. "Wha?" I mumbled tiredly, looking underneath my sheets. Before I could completely gather what was up I was bombarded with an obnoxious smell rivaled Pete's stink bombs. I stumbled out of the bed I soon realized I had did something I hadn't done in years I pissed in my bed.

This was embarrassing just thinking about it, there was no way I could tell my parents I wet the bed like some three year old, there was no way on this good earth I would do that. Waddling closer to my bed I took a sniff at my funky sheets again, they smelled even worse now that I was fully awake and aware. Turning on my table lamp on I hastily tore the covers off my bed and threw them into my hamper my dad made especially for me, I yanked my pillow case off as well and tossed into the hamper along with everything else I had on. By the time I had finished stripping myself down to my skivvies (my underwear) I realized my legs were a bit damp, swallowing my pride I grabbed my bar of soap as well as my washcloth and headed for the door. I peered my head out into the hall way; my parents door was wide open so I had be careful about walking down the hall. My dad was a light sleeper -- unlike my Mom who slept like a log in the woodland area of Smallville. I had to be careful.

I stepped outside my bedroom knowing full well what floor boards to step on and which ones not to step on, I had gotten into trouble enough times to memorize it. Venturing down the halls at night while there was a rain storm reminded me of a bad horror movie I watched with Pete one time on Halloween. I think it was Bram Stroker's Dracula, or something in that genre of B-Movies, I expected something to come out and jump me when I least expected it but I managed to make it all the way to the bathroom door. With a grin I hoped the door. In that same moment my jaw dropped in shock at the sight I beheld before me. There stood my parents; Mom was scrubbing Dad's hair and Dad was doing the same to her thick red hair, their heads were covered in shampoo suds and I was in nothing but my slippers and underwear. This was not how I expected this to go down.

"Oh -- um -- hi Clark, sweetie," Mom said nervously taking her hands out Dad's hair. "What are you doing up at this time of hour, son?" Dad asked me. I snapped myself out my dumbfounded state long enough to given them both suspicious looks. "I can ask you same question," I said trying to look . . . Intimidating in my underwear. My parents stared at me with narrowed eyes -- they didn't look all too intimidating themselves but I knew what strengths they possessed so I changed the look on my face. "Sorry," I mumbled. I tried not to look up at their hair, they looked liked some horror icons wives, maybe Dad looked more like Einstein, but that was besides the point. Dad must've noticed I was staring at them weirdly but because he cleared his throat awfully loud, I shifted my eyes downward. Bad idea; I remembered that I was just in my Underwear. "Did you have a bad dream?" Mom asked.

Apparently, you don't smell piss on me, I thought with a scowl. I had to stop making facial expressions like scowls, I swear my parents were getting the wrong idea. "I had a nightmare -- I think. I don't remember it though. But I did . . . ," I trailed all upon feeling my cheeks turn red at the thought of telling them. Mom and Dad moved closer and I wondered if the would smell me now. "You did what, son?" Dad asked, his face contorted with concern. "Clark, are you all right?" Mom asked me. I looked up at my parents revealing my red face, my parents' eyebrows raised in question. "I . . . I pissed in my bed?" I said hesitantly.

(FIN).