"Aunt May I'm going out! Be back in thirty minutes or so!" Peter called as he grabbed his skateboard and jacket and stood by the door.
"Peter, while you're out can you pick up some-"
"Eggs? Yeah sure Aunt May!" Peter jogged out the door, rolled his skateboard out on front of him, and jumped on. Peter rolled faster across Queens, seeing the trees turn to concrete, as he skated to Brooklyn. Down the busy streets he rode, quickly dodging citizens. What Peter really wanted to do that day was try some crazy stuff on his skateboard, but where to do it…
Peter rounded a corner and immediately saw the perfect spot. He rode into the abandoned warehouse. There were random car parts, paint buckets, welding tools, and scrap pieces of metal all around the large room. Graffiti was painted on the walls. There were chains hanging from the ceiling, and large, dusty windows lining the top of the walls. Peter admired the place.
Peter found a large slab of wood, and placed one end against a two-by-four as to make a ramp. Peter stood about ten feet away, facing the ramp, skateboard in hand. He placed it down. Peter stepped on it, and immediately began to kick with one leg, propelling himself toward the ramp. And then it was as if life went in slow motion for Peter. He was launched into the air, far higher than he had mentally calculated, a lot farther too. He propelled upwards, right towards a wall. Peter was just about to hit the surface when the back of his neck tingled, and by instinct alone Peter stepped his feet off of the board and held them up, as did his hands. He closed his eyes. Peter, expecting a solid and painful impact, hit the wall. But he did not feel himself fall. He slowly opened his eyes, and saw, that he was firmly planted on the wall of the warehouse. His hands and feet stuck to the wall, just like a spider. Peter's eyes were wide, and a smile developed on his face. He could stick to walls. He could stick to walls.
Peter unstuck his limbs from the wall, and fell about fifteen feet down. He landed on the ground on his feet, and bent his knees as his feet came to impact with the ground. He looked around and saw his skateboard lying upside-down on the ground by his feet. Picking it up, he tried again.
/
It was a good hour before Peter decided it was time to head back home. As he skated back towards forest hills he couldn't keep a smile off of his face. He easily dodged people while maintaining a rather hurried pace. Peter turned a corner when all of a sudden he was pushed into an alley.
The mugger pushed him against the wall, about to punch him when Peter ducked, causing the man to end up punching the brick wall instead. The mugger pulled back his hand in pain, looking utterly confused. He spun around, and saw Peter just about to take off when he launched at him again. Peter saw the man spring his direction and quickly flipped over the mugger, grabbing the fist that was thrown at him in the process. The man was flipped onto his back, grabbing Peter's foot and pulling him down. Peter kicked the man's head with his other foot as he fell, causing the mugger to let go. Peter got up and brushed himself off. He turned around.
And got socked in the jaw.
Peter noted that this really didn't hurt at all, but might leave a bruise even so. He threw a punch, catching the mugger right in the chest, hearing a couple ribs crack. The man immediately fell to the ground gasping and clutching his torso. Peter stepped back, eyes wide. And then darted.
He had never hurt anyone like that before. Guilt began to sizzle in his gut. Well, to be fair, the man had attacked him first.
With that thought in mind, Peter continued to run. Luckily he had grabbed his skateboard before he had left the scene. But he didn't want to ride it. First of all, he didn't want to gain too much attention to himself, in case the mugger (who had seen him with his board) happened to come chasing after him. Secondly, because Peter appeared to be going much faster without riding it.
There weren't many civilians walking past, but those who were had both their jaws and shopping bags dropped to the ground.
Peter was running past, nothing but a blur, not noticing how fast he had been going until realizing that he was already halfway home. Peter marveled at his improved speed, looking at buildings rushing by in a flurry. His feet hit the sidewalk at less than a hundredth of a second per, and they seemed to automatically dodge people, trees, and wandering dogs. He smiled to himself, looking around him, and forward. He was nearing an intersection. Looking ahead, Peter closed his eyes. And focused on every car, bus, bike, taxi. Gaining speed, he ran toward the intersection, opened his eyes, looking at the car he had targeted, and leaped.
And completely underestimated his abilities.
Where Peter wanted to simply jump atop a taxi heading toward his direction, using it to then jump off onto the other side of the road, Peter launched off of the road and flew over fifty feet into the air, sailing not only past that street, but over the length of three times that street. He landed, roughly skidding to a halt. Peter looked around, and noticed that he was less than a block away from his house. Peter speed-walked there, and opened the door. He took a step inside, heading for the staircase, determined to get some homework done.
"Peter Benjamin Parker!" Came a screech from the living room, And Peter stopped short at the bottom of the stairs. "You come here and explain yourself right now!" Aunt May yelled, causing Peter to flinch at the loud noise. He slowly turned around, seeing his Aunt, arms crossed, and with a stern expression.
Oh shit.
A/N: I'm sorry, this chapter was really, really, really short, I'll try to update soon, it's just that I have been feeling rather uninspired lately and haven't had much time to write.
As for this chapter, I'm personally not that fond of it, but let me know what you think and what you would like done.
Thank you all, and have a nice day, and a nice life.
~Sophie