7 hours left.
7 hours until you're thrown into the enormous and utterly intimidating Midtown Tech. The high school of geniuses, and science nerds that are destined for colleges halfway across the country. Sure you were smart, hell you scare people from time to time with your knowledge of human history alone. Unfortunately, that would not be enough to carry you through this mass of hotshots that went all the way to Washington for a goddamn Academic Decathlon.
2 hours until your function is compromised. You had the strong belief that staying awake past one AM is a concoction for a zombie- unsuitable for an exhausting day that promises 7 hours of nonstop work. That being said you couldn't sleep, the comforter and mattress pad did nothing against the hardwood floor and the chill November air that made your feet freeze. You stared at the ceiling and the large crack that threatened to swallow the room up whole. It stretched very nearly to the other side, only two feet from collapse. You half wished it would crush you in your sleep- inhibiting you from going to school tomorrow. The other, more reasonable, half told you that the ceiling could do nothing that would keep you from going to school, even if it did crush you in your sleep.
You turned toward the only window in the room, it captured a half decent view of the city... Literally half decent, part of it was obscured by a brick wall. Still, it did the trick, you allowed your thoughts to get stolen by the memory of the day one month ago, the day that determined a future of Midtown Tech, moldy apartments, and play-dough landlines.
One month ago
It was a good day today, spectroscopy in chem sense, you played dodgeball in gym without breaking the stick... Actually it was a GREAT day, you were able to have a full conversation with the cute french horn player with a New Zealand accent. It was your professional opinion that Dylan Ambrose was too good for this world, but here he was having a friendly chat with you and casually slipping in a wink at the end.
Today was the day that Beatles got resurrected from the dead or the day that Ariana Grande called off her engagement with Pete Davidson. It was a groovy kind of day. You grabbed your bike from the rack outside of school and made your way down the desolate roads to the house. Your mind was blank save from what colors you would use for your chem flash cards. You allowed the bike to coast down the smooth sloping road, carefully avoiding the many potholes that riddled the path. You shifted your bodyweight, guiding your bike around a turn, the house just coming into the view. There were specks of black around the house
Something was wrong, your eyes widened as you realized the specks were six large black vans in the driveway. The same black vans that infrequently came for progress reports, the same black vans that delivered you to your father 16 years ago. It made your skin crawl just looking at them.
Your hands were white as they gripped the handlebars, your legs started pumping faster and faster. Everything about those men was unpredictable, why are they here? Your speed sent the bike careening around the next curve.
Progress reports were expected, but how would they be checking on my progress if I wasn't there?
In minutes you were at the driveway, your thoughts were a mess. Your body was moving with a will of its own.
you made your way inside, slumping your bag on the kitchen floor. You heard two voices from the living room, first you heard a voice you didn't recognize
"We need you out there, with everything that went down with Hydra, we need to keep our true allies close." You heard a sigh of frustration-certainly your father-
"Cut the crap, Hydra was two years ago, why now?" Your dad replied
"You still take orders from us, it doesn't matter that you have a child." The man exhaled, his voice softening slightly "She has made remarkable effort, this assignment was not easy-"
Your dad interrupted-"She's not an assignment, she's my kid!" His voice shook with anger "I don't care if you put me back in, I just need Y/N with me." He paused, "Please."
Once again, your body moved of its own accord,
The man started again, "She's not safe in the city-" Your foot hit a loose floorboard, your eyes met your dad's
...The memory of that day faded, sending you into a deep, uneasy sleep.
Yikes, sorry that took me so long to publish. Please comment and let me know your thoughts, What do you think would be on Peter Parker's playlist?
*Have a great day ;)*
