Hello again! Thanks for the follows and the favorites, and thanks for the comment AC139 :D
I have indeed written more, and here it is. Last chapter ended with Thanos' Snap and MJ disappearing.
This chapter is written at the first person because I felt like it made sense and I really wanted to dig deep into what MJ was feeling.
Hope you guys like it!
67% sure
I blinked.
I was in the middle of writing a word. Safe. I was wishing for Peter Parker to be safe. Something suddenly felt off, I stopped writing and looked around.
Then I blinked.
Next thing I know, I'm falling on my butt. I look around, astonished. The disposition of the cafeteria has changed. There are fewer tables and benches, and they're all gathered on the other side of the room where the sun is shining through the large windows. The corner where I am is somehow dark and dusty. The bulletin board on the wall in front of me is empty, when I'm pretty sure it was filled with useless information seconds ago. It always is. Posters about upcoming events or clubs or reminders of the school's policy and stuff.
But now there's nothing on it.
Just the light brown plain surface of the cork it's made of.
Something's wrong.
I stand up and stumbles a second from the blood rush. The cafeteria is empty still. I'm all alone. I look around again. Where's my stuff? My backpack, my books, my Spider-Parker notebook?
Oh crap.
I can't seem to form coherent thoughts. Something is definitely not right, but what exactly? As this question crosses my mind, I suddenly hear screaming. I don't even think twice. I run out of the cafeteria in direction of the cries, which could prove itself to be a very stupid move but I don't care.
I need to see someone, anyone, just to make sure everything's fine.
Something tells me it most definitely is not though.
The screams have now stopped but I'm pretty sure they were coming from the gymnasium. I take a sharp turn in the East Hallway and suddenly bump into someone. Second time I fall on my butt today, this has got to stop. I look up and meet Betty Brant's eyes, wide with shock and probably reflecting mine perfectly.
We don't say anything. We help each other back on our feet and scramble towards the gymnasium together.
I can't really process what I'm seeing when we get there. It's a mess. A huge, unintelligible mess. Everyone is talking all at once, they all seem shocked. I recognize some of the faces in the crowd on the court and on the benches, but not all of them, and that freaks me out. I thought Principal Morita had invited everyone to come and watch the Marching Band's rehearsal, but there seems to be basketball players involved as well.
"What the hell is going on here?"
I'm not even sure anyone's heard me. I'm not the only one who seems to be completely stunned. The tuba player, Tom something, is lying on the ground and complaining about getting hit in the face by a basketball, and really I just can't understand anything right now.
I meet Ned's stunned gaze from across the room and for a second, we share a look.
Then it all becomes hectic when suddenly adults come rushing in the gymnasium, openly freaked out. I can't really decipher what's going on for the next five minutes, up until someone suddenly screams:
"It's the Vanished, they're back!"
And I have no idea what this means, but somehow half of the room seems to do. People I don't really recognize, except for a couple of them that vaguely look like some of my classmates' younger siblings or something. They seem astonished, but smiles and cries quickly erupt as the realization – of what, no idea – dawns on them. A very sloppy Mr Harrington hugs me at some point and he seems so distraught and utterly relieved that the only thing I can do is hug him back as he cries on my shoulder.
It takes them a little while, but finally they tell us what's going on.
I can't help myself and just deny the whole thing – internally. This is impossible. It doesn't make any sense.
If we did indeed vanish and were gone for more than five years, how – why – are we suddenly back?
I stay quiet though. Most of us do. Flash doesn't. He's screaming that it's nothing but a scam, and I know he's just properly scared. I am, too. My mind can't focus on a single thing. It's jumping on thoughts after thoughts after thoughts and how it's impossible, and how this can't be, and what about my parents, and Peter, and everyone I know? Who saved us? How, why? What happened during these five years, five years, five freaking years missing.
I feel like I'm about to throw up, and there's a couple of people like me, the 'Vanished' like they call us, who actually do.
It's chaos. Utter and proper chaos.
It takes a long, long time to get things remotely organized. They put us in one room and ask us for information on how to contact anyone from our families. Figure out if they were snapped by Thanos too, or not. Help us find a place to crash in the meantime. All of them are helping out.
And it's beautiful, how relieved and amazed they seem to be that we are 'back'. I try to put myself in their shoes, although it is difficult because literally one second has passed for me. How many second passed for them? I'm so stressed out I'm actually doing maths now.
One day, 86,400 seconds. 365 days times 5 because we were gone five years, roughly. I could be more thorough and count the months as well, we disappeared at the end of May and it's now October. October 2023. Don't think too much, MJ, please.
365 times 5. 1,825 days. Now times 86,400.
It takes me a little while to do it, which is nice because it helps me focus on something more tangible than the whole 'I just missed 5 years of my life while others kept going' thing. It still feels like my heart jumped up in my throat and decided to stay there. It's uncomfortable. It hurts. I might hurl, or not, I don't know. I'm so scared and lost and I don't know what's actually going to happen now. It's just crazy.
Multiply MJ, come on, just DO IT.
Are memes still a thing?
"157 millions 680 thousands seconds."
The others turn to me with frowns and surprised expressions. There's Ned, and Betty, and Flash, I know their faces, I cling to them as I shrug. Pretending to be nonchalant and whatnot. That's me.
"That's how many seconds passed for them."
A long silence follows my words. Maybe I should have kept that information to myself. Well. That's what I'm thinking, until Betty grabs my hand and squeezes it, and suddenly it feels as if my chest is about to burst from overwhelmness or something. My eyes are so close to overflowing and leaking everywhere, and I just can't let that happen. I squeeze her hand back for a split second because I'm not a monster, and then I stand up real fast and walk across the room to hide my tears.
I'm not ready. They can't see me like that. Nobody can. Especially now.
My thoughts keep going back to three people. My mom, my dad, Peter. Were they gone to? I deeply wish they were. I try to think. Where would they have been when the Snap occurred? My mom was probably at the hospital, I'm pretty sure she had a day shift today – or you know, five years ago. My dad… I think he said something last night – or whenever, this is just deeply confusing really – about coming home early to meet with the plumber or something. Yeah, that's right, we have, we had, a small leak in the kitchen.
As for Peter… who knows?
I consider for a second asking Ned about him. Maybe later. Right now I need to find my family.
I reach out to the person in charge of the organization of the room we're in. It's Mrs Warren, the Physics teacher. She looks older, of course she does. Five years. I tell her I might know where my parents are and I could just go and look for them myself. She looks at me with compassion but refuses.
"I'm sorry Michelle, but although you haven't been to Midtown in a long time, we are responsible for you as you are still technically a minor. I mean, I know it's confusing, but you are 16." She scratches her eyebrow with an uneasy smile. "I guess it's actually more confusing for me than for you though, right?" She's trying to diffuse the tension and I'm thankful she is, but I also feel anger rushing through me because I don't know where my parents are, if they're OK, and it's positively killing me. "Don't worry Michelle, we will find them, I promise."
I just nod and go back to where the others are sitting. Ned is talking to himself it seems, asking Ned questions, and for a moment I just listen to his rambling, which, in a way, kind of soothes me.
"Why did we snap with our clothes but not the objects we were holding? Did it happen for the animals too? Where were we during these five years? Were we just gone? Was our conscience saved somewhere so we could come back the same way we were before? How does the Snap work? Is it completely random or does it work with an algorithm of some sort? Who brought us back? What about people who were in a plane when they got snapped? Man, I hope they're not dead. Also, what happened to the contents of our stomach when we disappeared? Why am I hungry when I ate approximately two hours ago according to my time?"
The last one brings half a smile on my face and a roll of eyes too. It coincides with a bunch of people bringing us some food and we eat in silence, although from Ned's face I'm pretty sure his rambling is still going on internally. The food is different, less complex than before. It makes sense. 3,5 billion people gone, food production probably had to adapt. It's going to have to adapt again now that we're all back.
Man, this is gonna be tough.
Hopefully though, maybe people and politicians are less corrupted now. An entire Earth suffering from the same trauma must have become better. Less selfish. I really hope so. Otherwise we're screwed.
It takes another hour before the first one of us leaves. It's Jason Ionello. His parents didn't snap, his little brother either. They come to pick him up, and I feel a weird tug of jealousy when I watch them hug and cry in each other's arms. Jason is pretty shocked that his little brother is now taller, and probably older as well, than him. It makes sense.
This is so F'd up.
Then it's Ned's turn. His parents didn't snap, they tell him they mourned him for years. Their only son. Both of them are crying from relief, and then Ned does too, and it gets really difficult to prevent emotions from leaking all over my face. I almost regret eating that half of a tuna sandwich, because my stomach hurts so much from stress that I still feel like I'm about to throw up.
And then it happens. Someone calls my name. And I see her.
I recognize her immediately, and yet she is so different. Her face is wrinkled, the light in her brown eyes is gone. She looks tired, worn out, barely coping. Thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread. I don't know why Bilbo Baggins' words (or Tolkien's) come to my mind, but they do perfectly describe what she looks like – what it feels like, seeing her.
She hugs me, and I hug her back, and I feel how uncomfortable she seems to be. A lump starts forming in my throat. Something's not right.
Definitely not.
She tells me when we exit Midtown. She didn't snap, Dad and I did. She was left all alone. She was depressed for a couple of years. Then she met someone.
"Hi, I'm Philip Watson, it's very nice to get to meet you, Michelle." The man says. His voice is calm and empathetic. I can barely look at him though. I just nod and stick by my mom while we walk back to his – their – car. It's no rocket science to understand this. I do, I comprehend it, why she moved on with another man to cope for her loss.
It still hurts like a son of a bitch though.
We get to their place, a nice apartment in Fresh Meadows. I'm still too shocked to speak. Then it gets even worse. There's a girl watching TV. She's around my age, redheaded. She turns off the screen and smiles brightly at me, extending her hand in my direction.
"Hi, I'm Mary Jane, but please, call me MJ!"
I feel like I'm chocking. My eyes sting so much it hurts. I turn to my mom, ignoring the girl. "We need to find Dad," I tell her. She looks uneasily at the man next to her – her husband? Are they married?
"Honey I'm sorry, it's almost nighttime… We'll look for him in the morning. We'll find him I promise."
I can't believe it. I know it's been five years for her, but seriously mom what the hell? Did she completely erased us from her life? Are we done?
I can't stay here. I just can't.
"I'll swing by our place to see if he's around." I say coldly to the three of them. "Don't wait up."
And I leave.
I'm not even sure they try to stop me. To be honest, I'm so sad and angry that I can barely register anything around me anymore. I step outside, and look up to see the fiery sky as the sun is setting behind me. My head, my heart, my guts all seem ready to burst. I take a deep breath, and it feels less polluted than it did this morning – five years ago. Birds are flying and chirping in the sky.
I take another deep breath and close my eyes. Oxygenate your brain, buddy.
Slowly, the panic attack I've been having for so long finally recedes. It's still here, waiting in the dark confines of my mind, ready for the next tragedy to strike, but at least I'm in control again. That's good.
Baby steps.
That's when I feel someone slightly touch the back of my hand. I open my eyes again and meet mom's gaze. She's crying. She's scared. She's lost.
"I have to do this, mom."
"I know," she nods sadly. She hesitates for a second, then asks: "Do you want me to come?"
Her hesitation gave me the answer before she even asked. "I'm fine, don't worry. Stay here, with…" I try to swallow the lump in my throat to say the word but I can't yet. "Just, stay here."
"Let me give you some things before you go, OK?"
I catch a glimpse of my real mom when she says that. I nod, teeth clenching to hold back the deep sob that was about to escape my lips. We go back inside, and thank God the other two are nowhere to be seen. I wonder if mom asked them to stay away. In any case, it's a huge relief. I'm not ready. Not yet. I am empathetic, I am understanding, but this, this is too much.
She takes me to her room, and grabs a cardboard box from the back of the closet. I let out a little sigh of relief when I see what's inside. My backpack, some of my favorite books, my old teddy, my sketchbooks. She didn't erase me completely after all, even if she did relegate me in a dark closet, stuffed between socks and underwears.
"Here." She hands me something and I take it, my heart jumping in my chest. "I didn't read it, I know how secretive you are."
It's my Spider-Parker notebook. I can't believe how lucky I am that she didn't read it. I hope no one else did. They'd have figure out how stalkerish I can be. This would have been bad.
"Thanks. Where did you –"
"When it happened, I rushed to your school to look for you, like many parents still there did. I found your stuff in the cafeteria, untouched." Her voice breaks and she takes a staggering breath. "I saw it, your last page, your last word I– it was the worst day of my life." She meets my gaze, and her eyes are bright with tears. "I know you understand this, and I know you understand everything that happens afterwards." Her words are barely higher than a whisper now. "I know you do, because you're the most empathetic person I know, Michelle. And I know it's too soon now, and I know it will take a while, but I just need you to know that I love you. I loved you before, I loved you when you were gone, and I will love you now that you are back."
I just nod again, unable to say a word. But mom knows me. She doesn't expect me to say anything. She wipes the tears off her face, gives me a wet smile, then goes back to filling my backpack with stuff she deems essential. Clothes, books, my sketchbook and art stuff, and Mr Hairy Beary too. I'm too emotional right now to even care. I add my Spider-Parker notebook to the lot, then mom hugs me for a minute. I swallow my tears back where they belong.
I cannot afford the luxury to collapse right now.
I need to find dad first.
Right before I step out of the apartment, my mom's new old boyfriend/husband/coping mechanism hands me a phone and some money. "Call us when you find him and you're both safe," he says quietly, and I hear in his voice he's actually sincere.
I guess I could give that guy a chance. Then mom hugs him and suddenly my throat is very dry, so dry that my next words are barely audible. "'Right, see ya around then."
And I leave. It's getting dark, but I'm not scared. I probably should be, but I'm not. I'm focused. I'm determined. I need to find my dad, and I need to get my life back on track.
Screw Thanos.
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Until next time!
