𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 | peter parker

xxxvii. tragedy

"Tragedy, what else can I call it? What more needs to be said? The damage, the destruction, you saw it with your own eyes. When will people wake up and realize, that everywhere Spiderman goes, chaos and calamity ensue"

"...Everything Spiderman touches, comes to an end, comes to a ruin. And us, the innocents, are left to pick up the pieces left behind. J. Jonah. Jameson reporting, good night. And God help us all"

Rain? It's supposed to represent the beginning of a new life, the joy, the happiness. Not the grief, the pain, and the sorrow.

Dark clouds were hovering over the plains as the heavy drops of water bucket down my cheeks, descending in little gleam drops of silver.

I stare at the big screen in front of me, my heartbeats ringing through my ears, water sliding down my face.

I couldn't stop the tears gliding now. My heart was being torn into pieces, and it hurts.

My hair was now soaked as I continue to sob, shaking my head at everything I could have ever witnessed.

Why not me?

I sank down to my knees, my head dipping down as the tears continue falling non-stop, and it feels like this will not, and will never be over.

I choke out a sob as I look at my bloodied hands, my eyes sore from all the tears that have ever been held back.

It hurts.

And there's no fixing.

Nothing could comfort me now, nothing. It feels like this is the end, like there will be no new beginning. And this feeling is hated.

I stay there for more than a bunch of minutes, more than fifteen minutes, more than half an hour.

Just laying there, with my knees on the ground, my hands dipped down alongside with my head, and my tears falling silently.

It was just me and myself.

And everytime I turned to look some place else, I'd just see the same person, the same person crying, the same person hanging on the edge of living, the same person giving up.

The same killer.

I think of Peter, after my tears start to cool down, leaving trail marks all around my face and cheeks.

Peter was here not a long time ago, but then he disappeared, and it felt like we both went our separate ways, without seeking help and comfort.

But what was there to help, when we will both carry the guilt of Aunt May's death over our shoulder?

Please be okay Peter.

My mind was recollecting my thoughts together, as I walk down the road to Ned's house, not even looking around to see if I'm on the right route.

My eyes keep scanning the surroundings around me, as I search for any tracks of Peter, but I find nothing.

The way was empty, no one was walking and peeking around except for me, as I fail to find anything that could resemble Peter in any way.

Until I heard a few crashes from a dimly lighted alleyway between two of the many buildings on the road.

I peek my head through the corner, fighting the urge not to close my eyes and fall down, right here and right now.

Well, my instincts were surprisingly true.

There was Peter, still in his Spiderman suit, laying his back against the tiles of the building, before he senses my presence and directly gets up.

He turned around to get a view of me, and I focus my eyes on him, but I can't seem to take a full, proper look on him.

"P-peter?" I hesitantly call out, not daring to move closer, knowing that this may be another trap.

I furrow my eyebrows when the figure starts moving a little bit closer to me.

"Irene?"

I gulp. That voice does belong to Peter. Just not the Peter I was searching for.