Into Dust

Into Dust
Flora Winters
I do not own Smallville or any of its amazing characters.
Summary: If he can’t find true love…the blessing of the Moon will become his eternal curse. MM, Language.

Chapter Three

I was sitting on the porch swing with a warm breeze blowing through my chocolate colored hair. It was Clark’s porch swing and it looked to be well used, but it was pretty. The Kent family had a beautiful farm and I could not help but giggle to myself as I watched the little calves play in the green grass with each other.

Mr. Kent had asked me to wait out here while he and his wife had a “talk” with their son. Clark had made a face that resembled that of outrage at the rudeness of leaving me here, but I was fine with it. I was use to people being rude to the likes of me. It was the one thing in my life that was constant.

Being alone out here on the porch did give me some time to think. I think…I’m royally freaking the hell out. What in the hell am I? I had jumped over that car like it was nothing. My hands had been like razor sharp talons, and my teeth had hurt like hell. My voice had been really scary…and something had stung my chest like a mother.

I looked around to make sure that I was alone, and pulled up my shirt to see that nothing was wrong. My chest was just fine…if you ignore all the old scars…and a few new ones.

I heard a noise and quickly let my shirt down. Why had I worn such a flimsy shirt anyway? I was just asking for trouble.

“Hey,” Clark said and poked his head out the door, “Mom is fixing some of her homemade applesauce to make up for my dad’s rude behavior.”

“Homemade applesauce,” I asked and could not help but smile at his charming, yet goofy expression, “Never had any.”

His green eyes widened, “Are you serious?”

I nodded my head and suddenly hated myself, “Do you have a sweater or a hoodie I can wear?”

His expression changed to a look of confusion, “Yes, but why?”

“I’m cold,” I lied…but I was shivering.

His eyes narrowed, “Come inside then,” he said holding the door for me, “You should of said something.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered and now my voice was shaking as I got to me feet.

“It’s not your fault,” he said and stepped to the side so I could get in.

The house was so bright and warm in the way of color and feeling of the place. This was a home full of something that was unknown to me.

“You must be Darrian,” a gentle voice said and I saw a beautiful red headed woman with a kind smile on her face, “I’m Martha, Clark’s mother. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

I was too stunned to speak. All I could do was nod my head. I was not use to this.

Kindness?

“I’ll be right back,” Clark said and headed up the steps like a whirlwind. That boy could move really fast.

I just stood there and finally my mouth worked, “Thank you, Mrs. Kent.”

Her lovely smile got bigger. She looked to be filled with a bright glowing light that shimmered with such warmth and kindness.

“Found one,” Clark said walking back down the steps with a light blue hoodie in hand, “It’s a little big…but it’ll do.”

He handed it to me and I hid my eyes from view, “Thanks.”

I carefully slipped it on over my head so that my shirt did not rise up to reveal my dark secrets.

“Cold,” Mr. Kent asked as he stepped around his wife, “It must be ninety out.”

I nodded, “All the crazy and scary excitement.”

Mrs. Kent nodded, “Understandable,” she said and turned back to her husband, “Come help me in the kitchen.”

I watched them disappear and looked at the hoodie I was now wearing. It was a very pretty shade of blue…like the clear sky outside. There was some kind of weird symbol stitched on the front, but I ignored it for now.

“Better,” Clark asked from beside me.

I turned to look up at the taller man and nodded, “A little.”

“Come on,” he said and began to walk towards the kitchen, “Let’s go to my Fortress of Solitude.”

“You’re what,” I asked and suddenly fell into step behind him.

888888888888888888888888888

I gazed around the barn loft in awe at how cool it all was. Clark had a special place where he could come to…I wished I did. He had all kinds of cool things up in this place. It looked just like a bedroom…only bigger…and with a great view of the farmland. The place was magical. There was a warmth in the place, a warmth that I have missed with all my heart.

The telescope caught my attention and I had to go over and try it out. Clark looked like he was about to stop me but quickly busied himself with something else.

A lovely house came into view with an even lovelier looking girl sitting on the porch, reading. Was this Clark’s sweetheart? Did he watch her from afar? What was her name again…Lana Ling?

“I, uh,” Clark stuttered from behind me when I started to snicker, “The wind must of turned it away from the old windmill.”

That so gave him away.

“Right,” I laughed and turned to smile at him, “That naughty wind.”

He was blushing. It made me feel bad. He was being so kind to me…he took the glass out of my palms…and let me borrow a hoodie.

“Sorry,” I whispered, “Nerves.”

He looked up at me and his eyes widened a little.

“What,” I asked and started to feel paranoid, “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, “You standing like that…the sun makes you glow as if you have a halo.”

Now I was the one blushing. What in the hell was going on? Why wasn’t he freaking out? He saw me jump over that car like I was a Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon…and how come I can’t hear his thoughts. Mr. Kent had been a radio…and Mrs. Kent had kept thinking about what to fix for dinner, and whether or not Clark had taken out the trash.

I was brought out of my thoughts when Clark coughed and cleared his throat, “How did you…get your powers?”

“Powers,” I asked and turned to look away from him, “What are you talking about?”

“You jumped over that car like it was nothing,” he said and looked a little flustered.

Why?

I did not know what to say and my silence revealed that I knew what he was talking about. What was I suppose to do? Was I supposed to get down on my hands and knees and beg him not to tell anyone?

“I don’t know,” I whispered and stepped towards the window, “It all happened so fast.”

His footsteps were gentle and I could feel he was right behind me. What did he want from me?

“Its okay,” he said and put a gentle hand on the back of my shoulder, “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

I don’t know where I got the courage from. I placed my smaller hand over the top of his and smiled when he didn’t try to take it away. His hand felt so powerful underneath mine…a controlled power. This was really weird. He was so nice.

“Thanks,” I said and took my hand away…but his lingered on my shoulder for a few seconds more.

“Clark,” his mother called from below, “I have snacks.”

“Awesome,” Clark said with excitement and glowing eyes, “Mom’s applesauce is the best.”

This was all so surreal. Was this the perfect family? Did they always get along?

Clark’s smile was too damn contagious. I was becoming infected…and I did not want the antidote called reality.

The applesauce was absolutely delicious.

888888888888888888888888888

“Where have you been,” Tim asked as I stepped into the house.

“Out,” I said and slipped around him.

“Was that your new boyfriend who brought you home,” Tim asked with a cruel smirk on his face, “Did he kiss you goodnight? One would think that you would learn.”

I ignored him and then froze on the bottom step when my stepfather appeared at the top of the stairs looking just as drunk as usual.

“Do you know what time it is,” he asked in a low voice as he slowly came down the steps, “Where the hell have you been?”

“With a new friend from school,” I said and knew it had been a mistake.

“I saw him kissing that boy,” Time lied and my blood began to chill, “It was nasty.”

I turned to glare at him with venom in my eyes hissing, “Liar!”

The slap struck my face before I even knew what had hit me. I stumbled back and crashed against the table beside the stairs, trembling.

“Don’t you ever speak to my son like that,” my stepfather spat, “You disgusting little faggot!”

Tim was chuckling, “He broke the frame, too.”

I saw that hand being raised and I squeezed my eyes shut when the blow landed. I fell to my knees, pushing back the tears, refusing to cry out.

“What the hell are you wearing,” he roared and his foot connected with my ribs, “Does that belong to him?”

“No,” I cried out and curled up into a tight ball, “Please, stop.”

He kicked me in the back, “Get your lazy ass up and clean that fucking mess!”

He drunkenly stumbled by me and went with Tim into the living room.

“Disgusting faggot,” Tim laughed.

I crawled to my hands and knees with tears streaming from my eyes. I was shaking and could not stop.

My body ached…but nothing was broken…just my will to live.

I slowly made my way up the steps and cleaned up the mess. I knew that Tim would do this to me. I knew this would happen. I fucking knew it!

I wanted the two of them dead. If only I had the balls to do it. It would be so easy to take an ax and finish them off while they slept in their comfy beds. A couple thousand whacks ought to do it just nicely. I could make Lizzie Borden look like a mother fucking saint in the eyes of their stupid god.

Poison could be fun. I could listen to them beg and cry…like I have.

I shook my head. Who am I kidding? I’m a pussy when it came right down to it. I didn’t want to go to jail for the rest of my life.

I could see the headlines now…Loving Father and Son Killed by Murderous, Disgusting Fag.

I snuck out my window when the two of them were asleep. I hoped that demons haunted their useless dreams.

TBC…

Please review and tell me what you think.

Flora