A young boy sits on a stool, his legs dangling, alone in a dark room, cold and scared. Tears are fresh on his face as he looks out into the black empty around him. The cold black nothing that surrounds this young boys being.
"Mommy?...Daddy?" snivels the young boy, warm tears streaming silently down his face. No one answers. Not anymore. The boy begins to cry, his tears falling and puddling to an unseen floor. The pitter patter of the tears makes a oddly soothing sound. A ring of sorts. The boy stops crying, and looks into the puddle, which has accumulated quite largely. A man in a red mask with black lines scrambled all over and huge white eyes looks out of the puddle.
The boy stares at the reflection, and moves his face. The man in the mask moves in perfect unison. A ripple forms on the puddle, disrupting the image of the masked man. The boy looks intently at the ripple and leans on the stool, putting his face closer. A spider then jumps out of the puddle, at the boy. He screams and is consumed by the black.
Peter parker jerks awake in bed, sitting up and panting. Sweat rolls off his forehead and he looks around the room. Peter scruffles his dog brown hair.
"Just a dream...just a dream." peter calmy pants. He looks over at the digital clock on his bedside. It reads 7:28 am. Peter exhales and gets out of his messy bed and walks over to the other side of his messy room. Don't want to be late for school, he thinks. He puts on his clothes, a worn long sleeve t-shirt and blue jeans. As he gets his stuff collected for school, he looks back at his mask. The one from the dream. The one that he wears when he saves the day. The one everyone knows as the spider-man. Peter smiles.
"I love my job."
Peter stuffs the mask in his backpack, zips up the bag, and makes his way downstairs to the dining room. Aunt may, an older woman in her mid 50s with greying brown hair, and sweet smile greet peter with wheatcakes and a kiss on his cheek.
"Morning May" peter says as he pulls out a chair from the table and sits down with the wheatcakes.
"Morning peter. Now you eat up, before you're late for school again." aunt may says in a sweet but stern voice that only she could pull off. Peter stuffs his face with a forkful of syrupy wheatcakes.
"Yes May." Peter says with a mouthful. Peter gently rubs May's back and smiles brightly, reassuring her that he'll be fine. She smiles back.
"You know your uncle used to give me the same exact look," May says solemnly with a grin. She holds peter's cheeks in her palms gently. "You remind me of him so much." Peter looks at her with the same look and hugs her. May hugs back tightly as her physique allows her. Peter looks off out of a window, his face hidden from may.
Guilt. That is his thought. Guilt over uncle ben's death. A death he could have prevented. Ben Parker. The man that might have well been his father. A great husband, brother, and uncle. He was loved. It had been two years since, but peter remembered that night like it was yesterday. The night ben had died. The night that spider-man was born. The night that peter truly learned, that with great power must also come great responsibility. Peter can feel aunt may shiver slightly, and can only imagine what memories are going through her head. Memories he's to blame for.
May let's go and leaves the room, peter too ashamed to look at her. How could he? He has to lie about how ben truly died. How he was responsible. How spider-man didn't save the day. Of course may didn't know peter was the wall crawler but even if...how could he?
Peter shakes his head, ridding himself of his thoughts, and puts his now vacant dish into the kitchen sink. He picks up his backpack and throws it over his shoulder, walking out of the kitchen and out the front door. The sound of cars buzzing about and the ever present chatter of the citizens of forest hills, queens greets peter as he steps out.
"Ahhhh…New York." peter smiles, breathing in the less than desirable air of the city. But it was the city he called home. To him, it was more than welcome.