When a Hero Dies...
By Bryonne K Langlois
I cried until I could cry no more,
the tears soaking the floor
My hero, my one hero,
had been shot, a steel bullet in his chest.
Dark blood stains his costume now,
even he, a noble hero, could not escape that gruesome fate.
The ambulance that could have saved him,
didn't make it in time.
He died on the dirty street corner in the autumn cold,
spotted by the dim street light.
I heard the shot and saw him fall,
crumple onto the grimy pavement.
Rushing outside, I knelt by him in shock.
The gun man in the shadows ran,
leaving my hero behind.
Now I kneel by the new-turned grave,
crying into the old worn mask he once wore.
The melting snow creeping through my dark skirt,
I cradle the red fabric in my hands,
the shimmering eye pieces slick with my tears.
I can still hear his sweet, gentle voice.
Still feel his gloved hand on my cheek as...
He Died.
Yes, I was by his side as he passed.
Yes, I tried to ease his pain.
I knelt with his head cradled in my lap,
felt his grip loosen from mine.
His last breath sigh from his breast.
I have cried for so long, mourning.
Wept till I was weary.
But now, I must move on.
He is not the only one I have watched die on a dark street corner.
There are other masks, other souls laid to rest,
I must mourn for, weep for now.
I lay the silver-webbed mask by the new-carved headstone,
giving it one last tearful kiss before I go.
I cannot look back, for I will only weep again.
So long, my hero.
But as I turn to walk away,
I feel his gentle presence.
In a whirl, I see him.
I can tell he is but a spirit, his shadow doesn't cross the frosted ground.
But he is just as I remember him;
Tousled brown hair, wide hazel eyes.
He kneels and retrieves the mask,
running the fabric through his fingers.
His gaze turns up, and he begins to walk my way.
"You were the girl who eased my passing. I want at least you to remember me."
With that, he hands me back his fabled mask.
The mask I cried into many a time.
I stare at it, numb.
"I'll see you in the next life," he says.
He starts to walk away, coat flapping in the wind.
I snap to my senses.
" But, Hero!"
He turns, breath clouding in the frozen air.
His face is so innocent..
"Yes?"
I fondle the mask that once covered his features.
I can feel it's smooth fabric even through my woolen gloves.
"I've always wondered... What's your real name? Your gravestone doesn't say."
He smiles faintly, then opens a door from nothingness.
Bright white light pours forth, nearly blinding me.
"Peter. Peter Parker."
I feel my cheeks warm, and I gaze down to the snow-dusted grass.
"Thank you, Peter."
The name is strange to my tounge,
after calling him by a different one for so long.
I look up, and he is gone. Vanished.
But I hear him, his gentle voice floating on the chill breeze.
A whisper of;
"remember me..."
I smile, hugging the mask to my chest.
I whisper into it's pleasent warmth, as happy tears stream down my face;
"I will."