Peter, V.O.
You know we all have problems and differences. Sometimes when we are faced with problems we make good decisions, sometimes bad decisions and sometimes we make really bad decisions. We sometimes feel like we cannot face what is coming at us so we try to run from our problems. This is when we really need to have friends to be able to talk to about all our problems and differences. Sometimes even a newfound friend can be of the most help.
If I traded it all
If I gave it
all away for one thing
For one thing
Just for one thing,
Wouldn't that be something.
"Good morning, New York City. That is the new song from Finger Eleven called One Thing. You are listening to the Best Mix WKMX 106.7." Peter effectively quieted the radio by slapping the alarm before groaning slightly as he stretched and got out of bed. He yawned as he headed toward the bathroom to get ready to start another day. Then he saw Mr. Dickerson heading into the bathroom, Peter immediately turned around and headed back toward the door. He really didn't want to be harassed about not having any rent money especially not this early in the morning. He plodded back to his tiny apartment and did other things while waiting for the bathroom to become vacant.
After eventually being able to get ready, Peter was now driving down the road on his way to class. When he stopped at the red light, his eyes were drawn to the billboard on the side of the building across the street. He stared longingly at it. The billboard was of Mary Jane Watson.
"Hi, MJ. How are you doing?" Peter said to himself as he stared at her beautiful face. A he stared at the poster a song came to his mind.
I'm so tired of being here
suppressed by all of my childish fears
and if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
because your presence still lingers here
and it won't leave me alone
Peter was so lost in his own daydream that he didn't realize that the light had turned green. Peter was jerked out of his reverie when a cabbie bumped his fender. "Hey, can't you see? The light has been green for days now."
"Sorry," Peter yelled back to the cabbie then continued on his way to class.
The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. He had actually made it to class just a little late. That afternoon he had gone by Mr. Jameson's office and had been harassed about Spiderman. After that he had gone webslinging through the city. He loved to soar above New York and just be able to get away from everything for a while and be able to clear his head. He had stopped two muggings and decided to head back to his apartment. He started working on his bike, but he kept having this feeling like something bad was coming just over the horizon. He ignored that feeling, thinking that he was just being paranoid.
Little did he know how accurate that feeling was.
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The nearly endless blue sky and green farmland stretched on for miles as the motorcycle raced along eating up the asphalt as it went, but the lone occupant of the vehicle, Clark Kent, was oblivious to the beautiful surroundings. He had too many other concerns on his mind, but those too were dwindling into a haze caused by the monstrous red ring that shined in the bright sunlight.
Lana . . . he loved her so much that it hurt. The ache had subsided for a small time when he was with her. She said she wanted to know the real Clark Kent. But he knew that she wouldn't want to know or be anywhere near him is she knew the real Clark Kent. A small voice inside him said, "Why would she, why would she want anything to do with someone like you?"
He knew Chloe hated him. He didn't have to wonder about that. He knew he should have told her about him and Lana. He knew it was wrong keeping it from her especially after they had just promised to always be honest with one another. He just wasn't very good with words. He had waited so long for this and had wanted it so badly he was afraid to say anything for fear that he might wake up and it would all be a bad dream. Then the small voice, which was a little louder this time, chided him by saying, "Of course she hates you. She can join the club of people that hate you."
His father, the person who had so lovingly shown him how to do so many things, the person who had taken him on so many fishing trips in the past, the person who had helped teach him right from wrong, the person who had led by example and taught him how to be a good and decent man, this same good man couldn't even stand to look at him anymore. When his father had shut the door on him like the outsider he really was, that was when Clark knew he had done something that could never be undone. The voice, now almost a roar, shouted, "Of course, he can't look at you. You killed their only chance to have a normal child."
Clark has unshed tears in his eyes that refused to fall, despite the emotional turmoil he was going through. Exhausted, Clark gave in to the roar inside his head. "You are mine, now!" the voice bellowed.