Original Plot | Man of Steel | Batman V. Superman | Suicide Squad | Justice League
storm
stôrm/
noun
1.
a violent disturbance of the atmosphere with strong winds and usually rain, thunder, lightning, or snow.
synonyms:windstorm, tempest, whirlwind...
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The next morning, I stumble down the stairs, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I can hear voices wafting from outside, but I go to the kitchen, instead.
"Good morning, Mackenzie," Clark says. I grumble,"it's not good, it's just morning." I look at the clock, wondering what time it is.
"It's really five in the morning?" I ask, sitting at the table. I lay my head down on my arms, shutting my eyes.
"You didn't have to wake up, y'know," Clark teases. I open one of my eyes, and look at him.
"But I'd have to eventually and my reaction would be the same," I tell him, shutting my eye again. I can hear him get up, and mess with something on the counter, then rummaging through the cabinets. After a little bit, I hear a cup being set down by my head.
"Coffee, so you'll stop complaining," Clark says, sitting back down. I lift my head up, blinking.
"Thanks," I tell him, sipping it. He smiles, standing up,"I'm gonna go help with chores. I'll be in a bit." He starts to walk away, and I watch him.
"I'll come help in a bit," I say. "I'll help your mom make breakfast, too, even." Clark smiles, patting my head.
"That'll do, Mac, that'll do," he chuckles.
***
Later in the morning I help Johnathan and Clark stack wood next to the house, then I help Martha make brunch for all of us. Afterwards, Clark and I take the neighbors' horses for a ride, since they're on vacation.
"You and Mom made really good food," Clark tells me. "Thanks for helping us out today."
"You're welcome," I smile. "I don't mind helping you guys. It's really fun."
"Fun? That's the first time I've heard that word come out of your mouth," Clark teases. I roll my eyes at him,"that word has come out of my mouth multiple times, you're just being overdramatic." No reply comes, making me look over at Clark. There's an amused look on his face, and I start laughing at him. He looks over at me, before he too starts laughing. But the laughter soon dies out, leaving us in an awkward silence.
The silence seems to press against me, encaging me in memories, some of which I never wanted to see again.
"C'mon, keep up!" a young boy yelled. A young girl scampered across a field of tall grass,"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Both wore red sheets on their backs, pretending to be the Superheroes they read about in comics and storybooks.
"To the treehouse!" the girl called, running ahead of the boy. They both laugh, as they run, their 'capes' fluttering out behind them, their matching dark brown, wavy hair seeming like a shadow moving across the setting sun.
"I'm going to beat you!" the boy yelled, racing ahead of the girl. She laughed, but let him stay ahead of her. Eventually, they made it to a treehouse, the boy leaning against the wood of the tree.
"I beat you," he panted, a triumphant grin on his face. The girl laughed,"only cause I let you, pig licker." The boy snickered,"buck tooth."
"Am not!" the girl protested, shoving him. The boy fell from his leaning position on the tree, and tumbled to the ground. He glared up at her, his blue eyes hiding a solar red anger behind them. He tried to stand, but ended up falling backwards and down a hill. The girl raced after him, but heard a loud splash of water that hinted at one thing:
Her friend had fallen into the pond at the bottom of the hill.
Silence followed for what seemed like an eternity, the girl searching in the water for her friend.
"Clark!? Clark!? Where are you!?"
"Mackenzie, are you listening?" Clark's voice snaps me out of the memory. I look at him, my eyes wide,"no, what were you saying?"
"I was saying we should probably take these two back to their stalls, and head home," he snorts. I nod,"yeah, alright, that's fine with me." We turn the horses around, much to their protests and disappointment. The ride back to the stables where they are kept is about an hour, so I have plenty of time to think to myself.
By time we're done taking care of the horses, feeding them, brushing them down, and whatnot, we walk down the gravel path, back to the Kent's property.
"I had a fun day with you," he tells me. I nod,"yeah, I had fun, too. It's nice spending time with you."
Silence and an awkwardness. That's what I hate that separates us from our once good friendship, our once good relationship. It makes me feel guilty, but at the same time it makes me want to make it up to him. But I don't know how.
I'll never be strong enough to know hot to make it up to him.
