ON HOLD
#𝟏 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐌𝐚𝐧
"Witnesses have made statements of seeing you with the wanted vigilante Spider-Man, so what we would like to know is whether or not these allegations are true."
"Half the city of New York has been seen with Spid...
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Reading has always been something that calms me.
Even if the book is about war and battles, it always seems to relax me in a way that nothing else does. My imagination can run free, and I can be in my own fake world. My thoughts don't bother me and it's comforting after a long, hard day.
That's what today was. Long and hard. As wrong as it sounds, it's true. Peter didn't say much after our argument, the one that I definitely caused. I should've listened to my instincts telling me to not enter his personal space. Especially after I moved in and interrupted his freedom at home. I should've just minded my own business and left the room when I realized that he's just a normal guy, but no I had to pry. I had to snoop around.
And now I feel horrible. He left after I calmed down and went God knows where. He was probably trying to clear his head, or maybe he heard something going on outside. I could never live a life the way he does. He just waits for crime to occur, and when it does, he's there. No matter the circumstances.
Like he said earlier, he missed several things because of Spider-Man. He was late to his own graduation for Christ's sake. I couldn't do that. At least not willingly. Something horrible would have to happen for me to decide the city needs justice, but I guess that's exactly what happened to Peter.
Letting out a long exhale, I closed the book I was reading and picked up my phone, planning on just scrolling through my feed and reading tweets. It unlocked with ease, allowing me to tap on Facebook and look at all of the horrible things my relatives post. My great uncles are the worst about it, and it's always something insulting my generation. Something about us being lazy was plastered on one of my relatives' pages, and I quickly scrolled past it scoffing. As if.
The New York Neighborhood Watch, as if that should even be a thing, was the first news article that popped up on some disturbance about twenty blocks from here. There's a video attached, taken by some random guy on the ground at the scene. Helicopters hovered over the night sky as I saw a big, bald man standing with a sniper in his hand. This must be Kingpin.
I felt my chest tighten as I continued to watch, waiting to see my favorite web-slinger. He swung around a demolished building, smacking what looks to be a grenade into a dark alley, the crowd clapping as it landed and erupted, no one hurt.
But he looks hurt. He's grasping his side as if he's been shot or something, and when the other grenade almost hit the ground in the video, he shot about a dozen rounds of webs from his wrists, wrapping it up tightly. He must be trying to block off the bulk of the blow. It combusted away from the crowd, shattering some windows in the area, but thankfully leaving the crowd alone. They shouldn't be watching this.
I watched as Peter landed, looking like he was about to exchange a few words with Kingpin before a loud bang was heard, and Peter froze. I watched as blood began seeping into his suit, a gash from a bullet that passed by his arm evident even underneath the spandex. My breath hitched as I watched him, feel the area, blood sputtering out of the wound like a broken drinking fountain.
