When I came back from France, I fully expected you to grovel at my feet for ignoring the postcard I sent you. Do you know how much effort it took to send it while I was so busy going to art school and flirting with gorgeous French men?
Is it really such a big thing to risk your life and come out of hiding to see me at the airport?
Worst of all, your funeral was held while I was away. Shame on you! You know I look good in black! Boo hoo!
Your ever forgiving sister, Lana
Why didn't you visit me in Paris? I waited and waited for you to visit me and take me shopping at all the wonderful shops and tell me how wonderful and "pure" I am. I was so lonely except for Pierre, Francois, Michel, Jason and the dozen other boys who kept me company everyday. I cried and cried. My clothes have turned a dingy black because I don't understand how to use the French washing machines and the Sullivans always did that sort of nasty, menial, dirty chores for me. Boo-hoo, I so miss my "sister!"
Yes, I heard that you were in the hospital because your father poisoned you but surely it wouldn't have taken much strength to write a letter to me in response to the postcard I sent you. A typed letter would've been perfectly acceptable.
You didn't tell me what you thought about the painting I sent you. I don't mean to brag but couldn't you talk to the French government and have it installed in the Louvre, right next to that hideous painting called the Mona Lisa? It's a self-portrait in shades of pink called the Mona Lana. It's SOOOOOOOOO much better and prettier.
I will, sniff-sniff-sob-sob, forgive you this one time for abandoning me in my time of need but my kindness only goes so far.
Your future gold-digging fiance wanna-be, er, I mean, your bestest, most loyal, most concerned friend, Lana
How dare you not show up and take me to the airport? I sensed your presence and looked for you but you disappeared. When you show your face in front of me again, I will take off both my shoes and demand you give me a footbath with your tongue and say "Hail Lana" one hundred times in penance. I had to go to the extreme measure of getting Lex to take me. Oh, he was such the gentleman and so sweet. He smelled so wonderful as he hugged me. Are you jealous yet, Clark?
You don't know how much I missed you despite the dozen men constantly swarming around me in Paris. But then Michel had your green eyes and lips, Francois had your arms and Tomas had your abs and hair so I suppose part of you was with me in Paris. It is so bothersome to be so admired and worshipped. I flunked out of art school because I only got one painting done because of how busy I was dealing with the adulation, dates, presents and marriage proposals. Can you believe that the teacher gave my "Mona Lana" an F! Truly, this school is a fraud! When I get home, I will find a way to convince Lex to refund me my money. Besides my ever-increasing entourage, I was all by my wittle self, all awone in the world. Sob, sob.
Chloe and Lex have not written to me. Blubber, blubber, honk, honk. They have utterly forsaken me. And now you are doing the same? Why didn't you hop on the next plane to Paris and run to my side like a good little dog when I sent you that picture of myself and two hunky men all over me? Don't tell me that I've lost my power over you.
What is this about some hussy named Lois Lane? I hear that she is Chloe's cousin and helped you look for her? I hear from my stalkers, er, friends that she must be some toothless hag who has somehow become very good friends with you. She took advantage of you during your time of sorrow and desperation. After all, what man wouldn't be crushed when I'm absent from his life.
I'm sure, weep, weep, that when you see my new boyfriend you will regret that you threw someone like me to the side and run back with armloads of flowers but you will just have to tolerate me in the arms of another man, listen to my complaints about how he doesn't pay enough attention to me and satisfy yourself with mooney looks I will send you behind his back as he showers me with gems and everything my heart could desire.
The permanent goddess of your idolatry, Lana
Dear Aunt Nell,
Why is it that you didn't send a letter to me while I was in Paris? It's true I didn't bother to tell you that I had gone to art school in Paris or told you the address but surely after thirteen years of raising me, you should be able to read my mind and anticipate my every desire.
Is your marriage with Dean going well? If things are not working as well as planned, I'm sure that you'll be happy to know that things have not worked out quite as well with the Sullivans as I have hoped for and that I will push aside my feelings despite the fact that you were most cruel in leaving me behind, helpless and at the mercy of the elements. I am willing to welcome you back and reinstate you in your old position as my slave, er, mother the second I land in SV.
Your loving niece, Lana
Notes: Mona Lana is some else's snark. So I can't claim credit for that title.
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