Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Arachna Woman.

Peter watched as thousands upon thousands of websites about the once-superhero came up. Clicking on them, he read the information about the heroine and saw a few images of the past protector of Chicago, before reading up a particularly interesting article on this woman.

Apparently, Arachna Woman was the first ever spider-hero, who had protected people from not only super villains, but also put many ordinary criminals behind bars. It was even rumoured she was the mentor of Ghost Spider and the inspiration for her to become the hero that she was now.

More like a person who chooses to protect others when she feels as if nothing bad will happen to her, even when a situation with the police could go dangerous and many civilians could be hurt or killed and not even thinking of lifting a finger to help, Peter thought irritably as he continued to read the spectacular, but brief, heroics of the superhero, of all the amazing rescues, but he did notice that some articles reported that Arachna Woman wouldn't engage in some crimes, and even though the police handled all the crimes without fatality, there was one where Arachna Woman wouldn't engage in a hostage situation, and one of the hostages, a disarmed policeman named Alec Fosters, was killed when an armed criminal was startled and fired his gun and accidentally shot him in the chest, but other than that, she was a hero.

Until one night, she was fighting against one of her recurring foes who had taken an innocent person hostage to hold as ransom, and in the fight, Arachna Woman had accidentally killed that hostage, causing her to disappear, and the foe was killed as well by being savagely dismembered, the pictures not available because of how gruesome it was. After that, Ghost Spider and Arachna Girl had shown up, protecting Chicago when Arachna Woman no longer could. There was nothing more on the hero.

Groaning, Peter pushed away from the desk before standing up, stretching, and clearing his computer of the information. Looking back at it, he noticed the framed photo of him and Gwen.

Picking it up, he thought silently about what would happen if she and Silkie ever met before Gwen's death. He chuckled at that, before setting the photo down and deciding to crash for a little while before going on patrol as Spider-Man later tonight.

It was the next day.

After my mini-breakdown, I had decided to crash for the night, not bothering to have dinner despite my rumbling stomach. Mom had come and roused me a bit to ask why I had come in late, but I snapped at her to leave me alone. However, a few minutes after she left, Aaron, surprisingly, came in, and instead of annoying me with his early morning commentary, silently sat next to me and gave me a hug. Although it had been weird, it was nice, actually, and comforting. After that, he left, which was okay; him even giving me a comforting hug was a bit weird.

Eventually, I made my way downstairs, but quickly wolfed down a bowl of Fruit Loops cereal and a glass of orange juice before racing up the stairs and heading to the bathroom, intending to get out of the house so that I could go to Peter's as quick as I could. Hurriedly cleaning my teeth, I raced back up to my attic room where I changed out of my pyjamas and into a long-sleeved white T-shirt with a purple and blue dream catcher image with a few rhinestones on it, faded dark blue jeans, a large brown faux leather belt, ankle-long, grey boots that were worn from use, and a blue denim jacket. Tying my hair into my classic low plait, a few strands purposefully hanging out, I sprinted back downstairs and into the bathroom and freshened myself up there, ran out of there and back to my room and grabbed the photos of me as Ghost Spider, slung my cherished camera over my shoulder and headed back downstairs and leaving through the back door.

The sky was still painted with the colours of dawn. Mom and Dad would have left for work by now during my rush to get ready, and Aaron would have gone back to sleep as well, not to mention that most of the people here in this suburban street in Queens would be sound asleep in their warm beds.

Which made my worries for the route I was about to take ease a little.

Heading to my fence, I quickly swung myself over it, relieved that it wasn't too high, before with a running start I leaped onto the wall of our neighbours' house, crawling up it onto the roof, where I leaped from that roof to the one of the house next to this one. This was how I traveled all five blocks to where Peter told me his house was, evading a few close calls before finally arriving at my destination-Peter's house.

Crawling down the back wall of the house next door, I casually leapt over the fence parting that house from the house next to it and seemingly materialised onto the sidewalk as I casually walked down it, striding up to Peter's house when I had caught sight of it, slightly running up the stairs that lead to the front door, and rung the doorbell. By now, the sky was becoming more or less bluer, and I was betting nearly everyone was waking up more or less now. I estimated that it must been now nearly six or seven in the morning.

After a few more minutes of waiting, I could hear the sounds of scuffling and a muffled voice behind the door and a woman in her late sixties or early seventies with dark brown hair opened the door, her brown eyes still sharp and lively.

"Who are you?" she asked simply, wariness in her tone. I couldn't blame her, since I, a stranger, was on her doorstep.

"I'm Silkie. Silkie Arach? Peter may have mentioned me. I'm the girl with the photos of Ghost Spider," I explained to the woman helpfully.

The woman's eyes widened slightly in realisation.

"Oh, you're the girl that Peter was talking to on the phone yesterday and had said was coming over here today? Come on in, then."

Although it was a bit reluctant, I entered Peter's home.

It was nice, though slightly cluttered, and had well-loved feel to it. When the woman closed the door, I noticed that there was a black cloth covering where obviously glass had been.

"What happened to the door?"

"Peter. He and Ben argued and he left. He slammed the door so hard, that the glass shattered. He must have more strength than we realised," the woman responded as she led me to the kitchen.

"Oh." Judging by the way the fabric covered the entirety of where the plane of glass had been before it had shattered, it must have taken a lot of raw strength to break it-and door glass wasn't the easiest thing to break.

Believe me, it took a lot of my super strength to break glass like that to confront a villain or save someone, especially if the door was locked or jammed.

The woman ushered me to the table. I gratefully took a seat.

"Thanks, um…"

"May. May Parker," the woman introduced. "I'm Peter's aunt."

"Oh. Um, who's Ben?"

The woman, May, got a sad, haunted look in her eyes.

"Ben… was my husband and Peter's uncle."

"Oh. What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You referred to Ben in the past tense. And unless he's sleeping, I don't see him anywhere. What happened to him?" I explained, before innocently inquiring again.

"Oh. He, um… died actually. A few years ago," May admitted, knowing that I was asking an innocent question.

My hand flew up to my mouth, eyes wide, the other hand reaching out to touch the older woman's hand.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "How did it happen?"

May gave me a stern glare, despite the sadness in those eyes.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pry. It's just that… I understand," I admitted. "I lost my aunt eight years ago."

Now it was May's turn to offer condolences to me.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry," she whispered. I blinked back tears, not wanting to cry right now.

"It's okay, but it still hurts. And I wasn't the only person to lose my Aunt Janet. My cousin, Claire, was my aunt's daughter. She lost a mother eight years ago too." And I lost a mentor in Aunt Janet too and who inspired me to become Ghost Spider and protect Chicago as best as I could, even though I knew that my aunt was still alive, but I wasn't going to tell May any of that.

I had a secret identity to keep, after all, and I wasn't sure if May was able to keep it secret.

We sat in comfortable, heavy silence for a while, before May said abruptly, "Peter may be up by now. I could check, and if he isn't, I can always wake him up."

I gave a sly, wicked grin. "Same here."

Standing up, I moved to the stairs, not caring that I might give Peter a rude wake up call if he was indeed still asleep.

A banging on the bedroom door and an irritated shout of, "Peter, wake up and open the freaking door!", jolted Peter awake. Head shooting up, his eyes widened when he realised that the voice-and shout-belonged to Silkie; and that he was still in his suit.

She's here already? Peter thought, before shouting, "One sec!", and practically tumbled out of bed in a frantic rush to get out of his suit and get some clothes on. The doorknob jiggled and the wood groaned as Silkie slammed on the closed door, voice rising an octave as she shouted, "Peter Parker, you need a damn good reason as to why this door is locked when I come in!"

"One sec!" Peter repeated as he finally managed to get out of his suit. Using a web-shooter, he shot a web-line at the handle of the closet door and pulled it open, hurriedly throwing his suit in and shut it and locked it before he hastily pulled a long-sleeved shirt over his head, making his brown hair stand up, the sleeves effectively covering his web-shooters, and quickly put on a pair of jeans and shoes. The pounding continued, as well as a shout of, "Peter, open up the damn door!"

After a few more seconds and a threat from Silkie that she will force the door open in a minute unless he opened it right now, Peter grabbed the controller to his computerised lock and unlocked the door, which a very irritated Silkie opened and entered into his room.

"You better have a damn good reason for locking the door," Silkie growled, blue eyes gleaming with irritated fire.

"I was sleeping and forgot to unlock it?" Peter lied, though it came out as more of a question. The real reason was that he didn't want his Aunt May to walk in and notice his Spider-Man suit, which he looked over at the closet to check the door was firmly closed and locked.

"Uh huh, right," Silkie replied dryly, though her earlier irritation had faded away. Leaning back on his desk, she handed him a tan binder. "Catch."

Peter did, making sure his quicker than average reflexes were toned down from Silkie being in the same room as him.

Sitting back on his unmade bed, Peter opened the fat, full binder to see photos of the masked person who he wasn't sure was a hero or someone who helps when she feels like it.

And the photos were good. Really good.

"Well?" Silkie asked, her tone taking on nervous.

"They're good. Really good. Maybe even better than mine," Peter admitted.

Silkie cracked a small grin.

"Maybe I'll put in when I sell my photos to J. Jonah Jameson that my photos of Ghost Spider are better than Peter Parker's photos of Spider-Man."

"Don't rub it in."

"I'm not; I'm just teasing."

Peter let a small smile cross his face. He had missed this sort of banter from Gwen, even though Silkie wasn't Gwen.

Silkie pushed herself off the desk, strolling around his room.

"Is this your room?"

"Yes."

"A bit of a mess, isn't it?"

"Well, I didn't have time to clean it up last night," Peter responded.

Silkie laughed.

"Touché."

She then stopped in front of his closet.

Peter felt himself panic slightly, as his suit was in there, and he didn't have very much time to properly hide it by burying it under his other clothes. He watched as Silkie curiously tried to open the door, before giving up.

"Wow, your closet door's locked up tighter than your bedroom's! What have you got hiding in there, Parker?"

Peter shrugged.

"I like my privacy," Peter lied smoothly. The actual reason the closet door was locked was because of his suit.

Silkie shrugged as well and moved away from the door before plopping onto the bed next to Peter, an expression of clear disbelief on her face.

"Yeah right," she muttered under her breath before saying," Well, I know what you want to do when you get out of the hellhole that is college. What was New York like when you were younger?"

Peter thought about it.

A lot had changed since his parents had left and they had died. He had become Spider-Man, found out the real reason that his parents were left and that his father was accused of making biological weapons for foreign countries for a lot of money, and Gwen had died. He had begun to see New York in a new perspective, as a city that had to be protected, or it would fall into anarchy.

"It was… when I was younger, the city was a lot simpler, the world was a lot simpler. Then everything changed and I began to see the city as a city that had to be protected. Because, if that Spider-Man wasn't around to save the day, who will?"

It was as close to the truth that Peter could say without admitting his secret identity.

Silkie nodded as if she understood.

"Yeah, that was the same with me and Chicago," she answered.

"What was Chicago like?" Peter asked.

Silkie thought about it for a while before answering.

"Loud. Very loud. And overlaid with complex layers. And it was riddled with crime. I had to walk home with my brother and my Aunt Janet home when me and Claire were younger before I could learn to defend myself to make sure we weren't mugged. Then Arachna Woman, Ghost Spider and Arachna Girl came. The rate in crime dropped and many people were thankful for that, me in particular. But even with all it's flaws, Chicago is a beautiful city with a wonderful culture once you begin to see it as the gem it is."

The answer sounded true, but there was a ring of sadness to it when she came to her aunt.

"What happened?" Peter asked, hoping he didn't sound prying.

Silkie seemed to be considering his question before replying.

"It was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. My aunt was walking home when she was caught in the crossfire of Arachna Woman and one of her foe's fights. My Aunt Janet noticed a hostage was there, but before she could help, the fight came to where she was at the hostage's side. She fled for cover, but during that time, the hostage was accidentally killed. The next day, all they found was the dead hostage, the foe ripped apart, and my aunt's body pierced with a clean, but bloody, hole through the heart."

Silkie paused to take a shuddering breath while Peter waited in shocked silence.

"To say I was depressed that day is putting it lightly. I watched, as they lowered a lively, caring, compassionate, warm person who never failed to do the right thing into a cold grave. Not only did my cousin lose a mother or my uncle lose a wife, I also lost not only my beloved aunt, but my mentor that night."

Silkie took in another breath, the breath hitching slightly, while a tear trailed down her cheek. She sniffled and wiped the tear away.

"Please don't tell anyone I was being a big sap, especially Aaron. He would never stop teasing me about it."

"I won't," Peter promised. "But your aunt, your situation… it sounds very similar to my Uncle Ben."

"Your aunt told me a bit about him while we waited for you to wake up. What was he like?"

"Like your Aunt Janet. He was a second father to me, and he made me who I am today. He shouldn't have died, but maybe if he didn't, I probably wouldn't be the person here right now."

"How did he die?"

"He tried to stop an armed thief. They went for the gun, but the thief fired it off; right into my uncle's chest."

One of Silkie's hands flew up to her mouth.

"Peter, I'm so sorry," she breathed. With the other hand, she gripped Peter's hand.

"Sometimes, I ask myself about whether if I was there, if I was able to stop my aunt from going in, she would still be here," Silkie whispered. "But I'm sure she'll tell me that there wasn't anything I could have done to stop her that night."

"My Uncle Ben would've told me the same thing if I tried to stop him," Peter responded.

And I probably wouldn't be Spider-Man, Peter thought to himself.

Silkie nodded in understanding.

A comfortable silence came, one which Peter and Silkie both didn't want to break. A few minutes later, however, Silkie broke it by saying, "So, what did your parents do?"

Peter looked at her, contemplating how he should answer, before going with the truth.

"They were scientists. My dad worked at OsCorp before he and my mom had to leave."

Silkie didn't ask, but Peter continued.

"I was four when they left. Dropped me off on my Uncle Ben and Aunt May's doorstep. A few days after, the plane they were flying on crashed. There were no survivors."

A hitched breath came, and Peter turned to look at her. Her eyes were wide, but she didn't pry.

"What do your parents do?" Peter asked in turn.

Silkie loosed a breath before answering.

"My mom's a photographer, but she also works part-time as a secretary, though she doesn't say where, and my dad's a businessman. He's hardly home, but when he is home, he dotes on me and Aaron, wanting to keep our relationship from getting strained. I love my parents equally, but I have a closer relationship with my mom. She inspired me to become a photographer, and-why do you have that man's photo?"

Peter looked in her direction, where he saw her frowning at a picture of a younger him and his parents.

"That's me and my parents. That man is my father. Why?"

Silkie took in a sharp breath, blue eyes wide.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, worried, noting that Silkie looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Peter… I think I may have seen your father's photo in my aunt's study."

Peter's eyes widened at the revelation, genuinely shocked.

"Are… are you sure?" he whispered.

"As sure as me standing in front of you right now," she whispered as well, eyes widened to almost the size of dinner plates, hand trembling slightly. Seeing the photo must have stirred something in her.

Peter looked at her, his own eyes wide. He knew he could never clear his parents' name without sufficient evidence proving that Norman Osborn had falsified evidence against them, but he wanted to know if maybe, just maybe, that Silkie's aunt may have been involved in the spider project.

Looking straight at Silkie, he said to her, voice hoarse, "Tell me."

He hadn't needed to elaborate, for Silkie got what he meant in those two words. She let out another breath and said slowly, her voice solemn, "Peter, what I'm about to tell you is all that I remember from when I was four. Nothing more, nothing less. And please know that your father did not cheat on your mom with my aunt. You understand, right?"

Peter only gave a nod.

Standing up from the bed, Silkie went over to lean on the desk again, keeping her body angled away from the photo. She only glanced away once before telling Peter her tale.

"Like I said, I was only four at the time; too young to understand what was happening around me. My aunt was an geneticist and an etymologist who specifically studied spiders and other arachnids. Kinda like an arachnologist, you could say. Even though I could have broken something or mess something up that could have been really important, she let me into her study, even when she wasn't there. It was kind of like a second home to me.

"One day, I walked in and discovered a new photo sitting on my aunt's desk. That photo was a photo of your dad and my aunt standing together in a strange laboratory. I asked my aunt when she returned and she said she was taking business trips to a company called OsCorp-which I now know is the same company your father worked at as well-in New York to work on a type of modified spider project, with your father sometimes coming down to Chicago as well for a few times. I hardly saw him when he came down.

"Then, one day, those few visits stopped."

Silkie looked at Peter, her face unreadable.

"Peter, what I just told you is all true. I don't know anything else, and I don't have anything else I'm hiding back from you. It's. All. True."

"I know," Peter whispered, hands behind his head. "And I know it's not much, but thank you for the information, though. It helps, especially after what my aunt told me of how my parents left me with my aunt and uncle to go on the run."

"Go on the run?"

"The government accused my dad that he was making bio-weapons for foreign countries. He and my mom had to run away and hide. My aunt told me just that six months ago, and then I found a video from my father that says otherwise. So, I believe you that what you told me is all you know."

Silkie gave him another smile before sitting back on the bed and lying down, Peter also lying down, as the two laid down in silence, Peter contemplating the information that Silkie just gave him. He knew that it wasn't much… but it was enough for him to get a clearer picture of who his parents were, especially his father, before they left.

And hearing that Silkie's aunt was involved in the spider project as well… it was making him believe that maybe Arachna Woman, Ghost Spider and Arachna Girl may have received their powers from the spiders that Silkie's aunt could have been working on.

Little did Peter know at the time how wrong his guess was.

I should tell him.

I frowned.

Where did that thought come from?

But I knew where it had come from.

It had come from a part of me that wanted to tell Peter the truth-the truth about my family, the truth about my family curse.

And the truth that I was Ghost Spider.

I looked back at him.

His eyes were half-closed, brown hair almost flopping on top of his eyes, arms behind his head. He looked so peaceful, so calm…

I really did want to tell him the truth, but I also didn't want him to think I was some freak.

As I lay there, mind tossing up between telling him and not telling him, when he turned to me and asked, "Is there something you want to tell me, Silkie?"

Shoot, I thought, before turning to him and asking back, "What gave you that idea?"

"The look that you had. I know you don't think you do it, but you're kind of like an open book."

I sat up, internally wincing at the words. I knew he didn't mean anything by it. By then, I didn't want to tell him the whole truth, so I decided to go with half-truth instead.

"Do you know your Greek myths well, Peter?" I asked him.

He furrowed his brow slightly, thinking.

"A couple," Peter admitted,"though I'm more of the science type. I don't really know much folklore and myth."

"I hope you know this one," I muttered under my breath, before saying,"Well, there is one myth I know-the tale of Athena, goddess of wisdom, and Arachne, a mortal weaver with some major ego issues.

"Arachne was a human weaver who was so proud, she challenged Athena to a weaving contest. When Arachne won, she boasted about it so much, that Athena cursed her to become a spider and to weave forever, and all her spider descendants after her, blah blah blah.

"But, there was one part of the tale that most people don't know."

I took a deep breath before continuing.

"Athena allowed Arachne to be human for two weeks every month. And during those precious couple of weeks, she met and fell in love with an ordinary human. Together, they had a daughter named Lydia, after Arachne's birth country. However, as soon as Lydia was born, she soon demonstrated that she had inherited some of Arachne's spider abilities. But, after she had her own children, it was discovered she had also inherited the curse, after she accidentally stabbed an innocent person, transforming into a huge spider shortly after. And to this day, Arachne's descendants are vulnerable to the curse, if they ever endangered or accidentally killed an innocent person-which is what happened to Arachna Woman. She was tricked into killing that hostage that same night my Aunt Janet died. And I know because Ghost Spider-another descendant of Arachne-told me because I am one of her only friends in her civilian life."

Actually, I knew because I was Ghost Spider, but I wasn't going to tell Peter that.

I turned to face him fully, inklings of hope flooding through me. If Aunt Janet really did work with Peter's dad, then maybe, maybe they had found a cure for the curse, all those years, ago.

"Peter, if your dad and my aunt had worked on a cure for for this curse, then I can use it to help break Ghost Spider's curse. Please, Peter. Tell me."

"Why?"

"My Aunt Janet was a friend of Arachna Woman as well. Both these heroes were trying to find a cure for this curse. Please Peter. Tell me," I pleaded, my blue eyes wide. "I need to give it to Ghost Spider, I need to give my friend the cure if your father and my aunt did indeed manage to make it, so that she can help save people without worrying about turning into a monstrous spider."

I actually wanted to give it to myself, because of me being Ghost Spider, but I wasn't going to tell him that. Not until I knew I could trust him for certain, anyway.

Peter looked at me, a look of total confusion and other, unreadable expressions on his face.

"Silkie, my father never said anything about a cure for this… curse, on Ghost Spider and Arachna Woman. Not even in the video that I had found."

My hope dwindled away, until Peter added, "But, I will look into it, I promise."

I looked at him, my eyes wide and the turmoil only held back my secrets, secrets that I couldn't bear to tell him yet.

"Thank you," I whispered hoarsely-and meant it.

Hours flew past, hours in which Peter and Silkie spent talking and listening to music and generally just having an awesome time. During this time, Peter felt even more comfortable and happy around her. Although he still had thoughts about Gwen, they were just stored away whenever he was with Silkie. He couldn't help but admire what a woman Silkie was-prickliness and all. He hoped that she would find a man that would treat her right, and love her for who she was, even with her prickliness.

When Peter looked at the time, his jaw almost dropped to the floor.

"What is it?" Silkie inquired.

"It's getting late; you should be going home soon. Do you want me to walk you home?" Peter offered.

Silkie's eyes widened, and her mouth set into a firm, stubborn line.

"Are you crazy?! I can walk home fine by myself! I'm not some helpless damsel; I do know how to take care of myself!" Silkie objected, eyes gleaming defiant blue fire.

"I know, and I'm not saying you're helpless-"

"Oh, you think?" Silkie cut in dryly, arms folded, sarcasm all over her face.

"I'm not," Peter continued. "But I would feel much more better that I know you've arrived home safe."

"It's four in the afternoon!" Silkie stated, arm flung to the buttery, afternoon sunlight flooding through Peter's window into his room.

"I know," Peter repeated. "And I know you won't stop objecting against it, but I won't back down. I won't."

Silkie scowled. "You're not going to give this up, are you?"

Peter nodded in confirmation that he wasn't going to give up on insisting that he would walk Silkie home.

The acclaimed girl flung her arms up in the air, a look of defeat on her face.

"Fine. You win, Parker. Walk-" Silkie seemed to almost choke on the word-"walk me home."

Minutes later, and Peter hadn't spoken a word to Silkie on him walking her home. The girl walked silently beside him, looking deep in thought.

Wanting to break the silence, Peter cleared his throat, startling Silkie. Her head shot up from where it was once bowed, eyes wide.

Peter chuckled lightly. "I didn't know you were easy to startle, Silkie."

Silkie scowled, eyes narrowing.

"You caught me off guard, that's all."

"Sure," Peter murmured under his breath, before saying, in a louder voice, "Silkie, would you… would you like to hang out with me tomorrow at Central Park? As friends?"

Silkie considered it for a second, before saying in a heartbeat, "Yes. What time do you want to meet?"

Peter smiled. "Around ten to twelve?"

"Wow, that's pretty late. What do you do for a morning, Parker?"

I swing around the city and stop crime as Spider-Man, Peter answered in his mind, but said out loud, "Sleep in and put in some last minute homework for college." Both were true as well.

Silkie nodded slightly, seeming to buy it. For now, at least.

"Well then, I'll meet you there at… Central Park, right?"

"Right."

The two fell into a comfortable talk about where to meet at Central Park when Silkie said abruptly," Well, here's my humble abode."

Peter looked up at the modest, two-storey, white-and-blue painted house, looking unassuming. "This is your house?"

"Yeah, this is my house. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought you would live somewhere… flashier."

Silkie gave him a wry smile as she strode up to the front porch steps, Peter trailing behind her.

"Well, appearances can be deceiving."

They certainly can be, Peter thought absently, as he said," Well, there isn't any more need of my being here. See you tomorrow, Silkie."

As he turned on his heel, Silkie called out, "I'm sorry, you know."

Peter stopped in his tracks, turning around to see Silkie still by the half-open door, sorrow and other emotions displayed on her face and in her eyes.

"About Gwen," she clarified. "I may not know what it is like to lose someone you love so deeply, so truely, that suddenly, but I do understand, sort of, from losing my aunt. And I'm sorry for that."

The words were sincere, which was what shocked Peter even more.

The only sincere condolences he received about Gwen's death were from his Aunt May and Gwen's family; the rest were just washed-out versions. But to hear Silkie say that, a girl who didn't know Gwen, and who admitted herself that she didn't know what it was like to lose someone like that like Peter did, but she understood, kind of, from losing her beloved aunt, resonated with Peter, and it touched him.

To his very core.

"Thanks," he mumbled, thinking that he had received a good friend in Silkie, before leaving, looking back once to see Silkie go inside her home and close the door. A slight smile made it's way on Peter's lips as he thought about spending the day with a woman like Silkie.

Get a grip, Peter. Tomorrow won't mean anything other than spending the day to get to know a friend, that's all, Peter firmly told himself as he walked back home.

But he couldn't help himself to look forward to it.

"Get a grip, Silkie," I muttered to myself as I watched Peter walk away from the peephole in the door. "Tomorrow won't mean anything other than spending the day to get to know a friend, that's all."

But still, as I watched Peter walk away and remember how he had offered to walk me home, a warm feeling spread through me, and I couldn't help myself look forward to tomorrow.

And so the sparks begin to fly!

I do know when they'll reveal their secrets and their(by then)full-fledged feelings for each other, but not until later in the story! And, anyone who guesses why I chose Fruit Loops will receive a virtual cookie. Although, I'll give you a hint-it's a well-known insult for a certain villain from a certain cartoon...

And so, for all those who would imagine this as a movie, here's my dream cast for my characters(original ones, of course)for the "movie":

Silkie Arach/Ghost Spider-Alexandra Daddario

Aaron Arach-Zac Efron

Sabrina Arach(Silkie's and Aaron's mom)-Nicole Kidman

Janet Monroe/Arachna Woman-Uma Thurman

Claire Monroe/Arachna Girl- Shailene Woodley

Zoe Fosters(you'll see her in the next chapter)-Lily Collins

Bridget Marlow(Silkie's best friend from Chicago)-Emma Watson

Peggy Fosters(the policewoman from chapter six)-Bryce Dallas Howard

Lucas Arach( Silkie's and Aaron's dad)- Pierce Bronson

Hex-Charlize Theron

And that's my dream cast!

So, I decided Alexandra Daddario for Silkie because she played Annabeth Chase in the Percy Jackson movies pretty well as a badass female character, and if she could do that for Annabeth, then she can do it for Silkie.

I hope you enjoy, and for those readers who want Janet's curse broken, it will be later on! And so, please darling people, review, they are loved and appreciated, just not hurtful.

Anyways, enjoy the next chapter!

GhostWriterGirl out!