Spectre

02 - Another Day

"Anaiah Kith?"

"This is she."

Alright

Let's do this... One last time.

All it took was the literal world falling on her head, but for the past seven months, Anaiah Kith, the girl from the second-story apartments down on 23rd, the one who went unnoticed as she took the train on the ride to Manhattan, had been the one and only Spiderwoman. Easy? Hell no, not by any stretch, but that was the job, wasn't it? The rest was the typical fanfare: saving lives, making enemies, taking a beating here and there but always, ALWAYS, getting back up.

Unless she's dealing with paperwork and bills, in which her anxiety and exhaustion take center stage, leaving her a mess as always.

She tapped at her desk with her first and middle fingers, waiting for the bill collector's feminine, droning voice to finish speaking over the phone, sighing as she wished she was doing more than seeing how much she owed the hospital, which she owed a lot. Why?

Well, she died.

Technically. She lay lifeless in the hospital bed for five minutes and stayed comatose for two weeks, and in that time, she... didn't exactly stay unconscious or unmoving. Everything became complicated after that. Without warning, She was given the powers of the Spider, the same powers Hobert once wielded; web-slinging, heightened senses, incredible strength and speed she could hardly keep up with...along with a few unique powers she'd yet to fully understand or be capable of explaining.

She set out to use these precious abilities for good, taking up her friend's mantle and saving lives in the process.

Though right now as she sat through a long and daunting phone call about her hospital bills, it felt as though the weight of the world rested on her shoulders more than ever before. Anaiah sighed and allowed her head to quite literally hit the table's surface, waiting for her call to transfer, staring at the worn wood's patterns whilst listening to her mother's rhythmic typing on her laptop in their small living room.

Just beyond that, she heard the front door open, along with the sounds of her siblings calling out to their mom and leaving for their respective jobs. It was the same routine every day; everyone woke up between six and eight, got dressed, made a mess of the house and left while their mother worked from home.

It didn't allow her much personal space of her own. Even within the confined walls of her room, she didn't have the privacy she wished she had. If she had friends over, they had to be quiet, or if she got into a relationship, it was unlikely they could spend any time together alone without a family member intruding in her personal space. Not that she ever had time for a relationship anyway.

Being Spiderwoman was a marriage in and of itself. The mere idea of being with anyone while she slung around NYC seemed almost like a fairytale, if a little more like a pipedream.

It was the single life for her, possibly forever.

"Yes I'm still here... no, I can't pay that right now, but if you could just give me until... what? Collections? Ma'am, I'm saying that I can pay for this in a few days, can you please not move it to collections?"

Anaiah balled her hand up as she grit her teeth and refrained from saying exactly how she felt. It wasn't the teller's doing, he was just doing his job. It didn't sting any less.

"Yes, I understand. Thank you."

She hung up after what she felt was an appropriate amount of time, resting her head on the scrap-covered table with an odd amount of restraint she didn't think she had at that point. Frankly, she wanted to slam her head through the wood, but a feat such as that wouldn't be possible for her. Before she could disappear into her mind further, a familiar, warm voice rang out in the air.