argentlife
1st December 2003, 01:03
Slight LL warning
Hell is betrayal
// Lana isn't really intrested in their defintion of hell. The days
she allows herself to remember she lives in her own//
PG-13 ish
argentlife at yahoo dot com
Sometimes she wonders if they think about it. What happened to them,
why it happened.
Inside she thinks that everyone really knows, they just don't speak
the words. Because they were all there. Lana remembers it all.
Sometimes, if she concentrates hard enough she can still taste the
bitter taste of coffee on her tounge.
She sits now, behind her desk. Back where it all began. Smallville
High, the only place in the little town that hasn't changed. Except
for her. Everyone else is gone, spread around the world as the
saying goes. Lana is still here. Teaching at the school she, in her
youth, had referred to as hell and heaven all mashed in one place.
She still think of it as hell. But only when she passes the office
of the Torch. Because the little sign on the door makes her
remember. Only she doesn't want to. So she never goes there, avoids
it but is still drawned to it like a moth to the flames.
She thinks of it as heaven sometimes too. When her students sits
silent in their desk, reading copies of books she thinks is
necessary. Jane Austen, Ernest Hemingway and more. She cares little
for the notes passed between desk because she is still young enough
to remember a time when she herself passed notes exactly the same
way.
Lana tries to think of herself as a responsable being. She cares
about her students, juggles her duties as a teacher with the ones of
a wife and mother with care. Everything has to be perfect. No one is
to be hurt. Because she has hurt people before and the feelings of
guilt still lays heavy on her slender shoulders.
She has never forgotten herself, and if she thinks about it she
doesn't think that they have forgiven her either.
They never speak to each other. At graduation they had promised to
keep in touch, long distance be damned. But Lana's phone never rang
because the week after graduation their friendship broke.
The Talon is closed now. She drives past it from time to time.
Remembers her dream to keep it open forever. She lost that dream.
All because her own stupidety. And when she drives by she also
remembers the last day they had gathered there.
The four of them. Sitting on a table in the corner of the room. Mugs
of forgotten coffee empty plates infront of them, remebering their
now lost highschool days. The pranks, the terror that was living in
Smallville with it metoer freaks and green stones. The proom and
chasing after stories.
Then the uncomfortable silence. The fidgeting of Chloe's hands.
She stares at the papers lying on her desk, regretting ever given
the assignment to her students. Lana isn't really intrested in their
defintion of hell. The days she allows herself to remember she lives
in her own.
Her husband often ask why she never speaks with her friends, after
all he remembers them too. He went to the same school. Even admitted
that he had a crush on Chloe once. But what can she tell him, that
she was the one that broke the circle, that she was the one that
couldn't accept?
No, Lana doesn't think she can tell him the truth. Because he would
never understand that his perfect wife not always was that perfect.
That she once had fallen in love with the wrong man, at the wrong
moment.
That the man hadn´t loved her. But someone else. That she hadn't
cared that the other woman had been her best friend.
She begins to grade papers, reading them slowly. Making small
comments in the marginal when she thinks its needed. Shivers when
she reads Jamie's. Hell is betrayal. Remembers the violent
thrusting, the feel of Lex inside her. Making her scream his name
over and over. Never speaking hers. Only the other.
Remembers the table in the Talon. How she had stared at the empty
plates that only minutes ago had been filled with muffins and pies
and wondered if that was her. Wanting everyone else to feel as empty
as her inside.
Saying the truth only to hurt. Never expecting to be hurt in return.
Just wanting to be whole again. Seeing the look of pain in green
hazel eyes, the slow building of tears. The violent shock in Pete's
and Clark's faces. Remebering wondering how she ever thought that
they would take her side.
The raise of Chloe's hand, expecting a slap in the face not the cold
diamond glittering on the other girl's finger. Then the tears. Clark
telling her to leave. The one who always rescued her abondoning her.
Lana tries to clear her mind of the images, Returns to her
assignments. Silent tears rolling down her chin. Can't clear her
mind. Remembers instead how the others fell apart, no one forgiving
everyone just hating.
A vivid circle, never ending. Everyone taking sides, all on Chloe's
side. Because she was the victim, not the offenders. Like Lana and
Lex.
Except for one.
Everyday Lana buys the papers, the Daily Planet, whatever gossip
magazine she can get her hands on. She hids them from her husband,
figuring he would never understand the perfectly cut edges where
articles once had been.
She brings the articles to work, locks herself in her office and
opens the third drawer. Always runs her hand over the three books
before she pulls out the one that she needs. Once she heard that
serial killers always saved something from the victims, and
everytime she remembers that rumor she wonders if that is what she
is doing.
They are her foto albums. Her try to still be a part of their lives.
The first one are filled with articles, all written by the shy
farmboy she once had thought herself in love with. Like a watchful
mother she has followed his career. From the University paper to the
Daily Planet. Lana has saved them all, carefully glued on the white
pages.
The second one is filled with colorfull images from from sport
magazines, Pete with his team or alone. Every win carefully
scripted. Every loss equally scripted, only in more subtle paint.
Black instead of red.
The third one is the hardest to maintain. Lana has already filled
two other just the same. The faces of the worlds most powerfull
couple is always everywhere and sometimes she has a hard time
catching up. Chloe and Alexander Luthor. Lex and Chloe.
Everytime she sees their names linked Lana still has a hard time
wondering how Chloe could forgive him.
When she couldn't forgive Lana.
The last paper graded and her eyes falls on the inventation lying on
her copy of Wuthering Heights. The envelope is cream, the letters
inside written in fake gold. Her ten years reunion. And she wonders
if the others will come.
If she would be able to look them in the eyes.
Hell is betrayal, betrayal is hell.
She gets up, walks the empty halls, pass her old locker on her way
to her old car that waits alone in the parking lot. And Lana wonders
if Lex ever forgives himself. If he feels the guilt as much as she.
Fin
Hell is betrayal
// Lana isn't really intrested in their defintion of hell. The days
she allows herself to remember she lives in her own//
PG-13 ish
argentlife at yahoo dot com
Sometimes she wonders if they think about it. What happened to them,
why it happened.
Inside she thinks that everyone really knows, they just don't speak
the words. Because they were all there. Lana remembers it all.
Sometimes, if she concentrates hard enough she can still taste the
bitter taste of coffee on her tounge.
She sits now, behind her desk. Back where it all began. Smallville
High, the only place in the little town that hasn't changed. Except
for her. Everyone else is gone, spread around the world as the
saying goes. Lana is still here. Teaching at the school she, in her
youth, had referred to as hell and heaven all mashed in one place.
She still think of it as hell. But only when she passes the office
of the Torch. Because the little sign on the door makes her
remember. Only she doesn't want to. So she never goes there, avoids
it but is still drawned to it like a moth to the flames.
She thinks of it as heaven sometimes too. When her students sits
silent in their desk, reading copies of books she thinks is
necessary. Jane Austen, Ernest Hemingway and more. She cares little
for the notes passed between desk because she is still young enough
to remember a time when she herself passed notes exactly the same
way.
Lana tries to think of herself as a responsable being. She cares
about her students, juggles her duties as a teacher with the ones of
a wife and mother with care. Everything has to be perfect. No one is
to be hurt. Because she has hurt people before and the feelings of
guilt still lays heavy on her slender shoulders.
She has never forgotten herself, and if she thinks about it she
doesn't think that they have forgiven her either.
They never speak to each other. At graduation they had promised to
keep in touch, long distance be damned. But Lana's phone never rang
because the week after graduation their friendship broke.
The Talon is closed now. She drives past it from time to time.
Remembers her dream to keep it open forever. She lost that dream.
All because her own stupidety. And when she drives by she also
remembers the last day they had gathered there.
The four of them. Sitting on a table in the corner of the room. Mugs
of forgotten coffee empty plates infront of them, remebering their
now lost highschool days. The pranks, the terror that was living in
Smallville with it metoer freaks and green stones. The proom and
chasing after stories.
Then the uncomfortable silence. The fidgeting of Chloe's hands.
She stares at the papers lying on her desk, regretting ever given
the assignment to her students. Lana isn't really intrested in their
defintion of hell. The days she allows herself to remember she lives
in her own.
Her husband often ask why she never speaks with her friends, after
all he remembers them too. He went to the same school. Even admitted
that he had a crush on Chloe once. But what can she tell him, that
she was the one that broke the circle, that she was the one that
couldn't accept?
No, Lana doesn't think she can tell him the truth. Because he would
never understand that his perfect wife not always was that perfect.
That she once had fallen in love with the wrong man, at the wrong
moment.
That the man hadn´t loved her. But someone else. That she hadn't
cared that the other woman had been her best friend.
She begins to grade papers, reading them slowly. Making small
comments in the marginal when she thinks its needed. Shivers when
she reads Jamie's. Hell is betrayal. Remembers the violent
thrusting, the feel of Lex inside her. Making her scream his name
over and over. Never speaking hers. Only the other.
Remembers the table in the Talon. How she had stared at the empty
plates that only minutes ago had been filled with muffins and pies
and wondered if that was her. Wanting everyone else to feel as empty
as her inside.
Saying the truth only to hurt. Never expecting to be hurt in return.
Just wanting to be whole again. Seeing the look of pain in green
hazel eyes, the slow building of tears. The violent shock in Pete's
and Clark's faces. Remebering wondering how she ever thought that
they would take her side.
The raise of Chloe's hand, expecting a slap in the face not the cold
diamond glittering on the other girl's finger. Then the tears. Clark
telling her to leave. The one who always rescued her abondoning her.
Lana tries to clear her mind of the images, Returns to her
assignments. Silent tears rolling down her chin. Can't clear her
mind. Remembers instead how the others fell apart, no one forgiving
everyone just hating.
A vivid circle, never ending. Everyone taking sides, all on Chloe's
side. Because she was the victim, not the offenders. Like Lana and
Lex.
Except for one.
Everyday Lana buys the papers, the Daily Planet, whatever gossip
magazine she can get her hands on. She hids them from her husband,
figuring he would never understand the perfectly cut edges where
articles once had been.
She brings the articles to work, locks herself in her office and
opens the third drawer. Always runs her hand over the three books
before she pulls out the one that she needs. Once she heard that
serial killers always saved something from the victims, and
everytime she remembers that rumor she wonders if that is what she
is doing.
They are her foto albums. Her try to still be a part of their lives.
The first one are filled with articles, all written by the shy
farmboy she once had thought herself in love with. Like a watchful
mother she has followed his career. From the University paper to the
Daily Planet. Lana has saved them all, carefully glued on the white
pages.
The second one is filled with colorfull images from from sport
magazines, Pete with his team or alone. Every win carefully
scripted. Every loss equally scripted, only in more subtle paint.
Black instead of red.
The third one is the hardest to maintain. Lana has already filled
two other just the same. The faces of the worlds most powerfull
couple is always everywhere and sometimes she has a hard time
catching up. Chloe and Alexander Luthor. Lex and Chloe.
Everytime she sees their names linked Lana still has a hard time
wondering how Chloe could forgive him.
When she couldn't forgive Lana.
The last paper graded and her eyes falls on the inventation lying on
her copy of Wuthering Heights. The envelope is cream, the letters
inside written in fake gold. Her ten years reunion. And she wonders
if the others will come.
If she would be able to look them in the eyes.
Hell is betrayal, betrayal is hell.
She gets up, walks the empty halls, pass her old locker on her way
to her old car that waits alone in the parking lot. And Lana wonders
if Lex ever forgives himself. If he feels the guilt as much as she.
Fin