Hey guys, this is another reason I was having trouble writing. I decided to post me little stupid hero story, lol…it's not stupid.

This goes deeper into meaning with me and my friends but…hope you like it

-Jordan

Chapter 1: Curiosity

Peter Parker got a call that Sunday morning while he was kicking a soccer ball in his backyard.

"Hello?" He asked casually, yet curiously. He didn't recognize the number shown.

"May I speak to Peter Parker?" A serious male voice asked. It was scraggily and deep, much like an old man's.

"Speaking, who is this?" He was even more curious now, the voice sounded urgent.

"You'll find out soon enough. There is news about a giant force of electricity down in Louisiana. More details will be added later. We need you there soon, look on your back porch. There will be plane tickets under your mat."

"Louisiana? Force of electricity? What? Why me?" Questions filled Peter's mind, why was this happening?

"You'll find out when you get her Peter, there are some out there who know you are Spiderman-" Peter didn't respond, "We need your help; before this might turn chaotic."

Peter's smooth pale face turned sour. His eyebrows turned down, not sure what to do. He had brunette hair that was very lush and beautiful and green eyes that were bright and amazing in the sunlight; he was very attractive without his big glasses. He never let people get very known to him, some girls might be interested, but he wasn't. He hadn't found anyone that suited him yet; all of them were the same. He was very muscular, though his clothes didn't show it, and his real power hidden.

How could someone know he was Spiderman? He was more muscular and taller than the normal fifteen-year olds around, so Spiderman looked older in his costume. His identity was never shown…except to some people on a train the frightful day he has to save it from plummeting into the depths of the sea. They promised not to say anything, no pictures taken, no word spoken. It was then he silently cursed the spider that turned him into what he was now. Luckily he hadn't gotten tested for anything in particular. He thought about the voice over and over again in his mind and went to his back porch, using the webs to swing him there, and finding the ticket's where the man said they would be. He glanced at his grandmother gardening on the side of the house; she looked like she needed a break from his hormones and trickery…or as he liked to call it, saving the city. She thought he'd joined a gang, going out randomly and coming back panting and sweating; maybe with some scars or a massive cut, still bleeding. She never questioned, knowing she wouldn't be able to reason with his "rebellious" ways. He wasn't bad…and she knew it. She had to distract herself from the real truth. The truth he wasn't telling her. Though he was doing well, and he knew she wouldn't question his leaving…but he needed an excuse.

"Grandma?" He asked her when she came inside from gardening.

"Yes Peter?" She asked, sitting down by the kitchen table. She knew something was up. He turned over excuses in his head until he got to the right one.

"I have to go to a camp in Louisiana for a couple weeks." He said, preparing his confession speech while she was about to ask why.

"Why?" She asked as he thought she would. He slowly spread the words over, putting a guilty look on his face.

"I got caught with drugs and a gun. They weren't mine though, my friend had the drugs and another guy was about to shoot him. I kicked the gun out from the kid's hand and my friend ran. The cops came when I was holding the evidence."

"Peter Parker…" She sighed, "I hope you're going to learn your lesson, if you don't I'm going to have to send you off to some military or boarding school." She shook her head slowly, looking down. Ashamed that she didn't succeed in raising him like his parents would have.

"I'm going to pack, I'm sorry." He said simply, not able to explain anything else and ran upstairs. He packed quickly; throwing almost his entire closet in his suitcase. He didn't have a lot of valuables, he grabbed what was necessary and taking some extra he put the case by the door and went downstairs to eat dinner. A thought hit him; what about school? He quickly brushed it off and set the table. They ate in silence. He went upstairs early; kissing her lightly on the cheek and telling her that he's leave the next day. She nodded slowly and he thought he saw a small tear roll down her wrinkled cheek. It hurt him to hurt her like that, though he knew he had to. Curiosity killed him every time he thought about the mission. What was going to happen?