GENERATION X SPIDER-MAN (Issue #15)

FACE THE DARKNESS

FEBRUARY 1991

     A light snow blanketed the greater Queens area in late December 1980. Peter Parker pressed his six year old nose up against the glass window. The snowflakes continued to trickle down and coat the sidewalk as well as the four foot tall snowman that he and his mother had built earlier that day. It was getting late and Peter didn't want to go to bed.

"Can I stay up a little longer, Mom?" Peter asked.

"Just a little bit longer and then it's time to go to sleep," she replied.

He peered out the window again and noticed something that he hadn't before. His bicycle! It was his new prize possession. Santa Claus had put it under his still standing Christmas Tree no less than three days ago and it was outside in the yard. Peter quickly threw on his boots and went outside into the cold to retrieve his Huffy BMX bike. Right when he was all set to bring it back into the house, something happened and a stiff breeze stung him in the face. It chilled Peter to the bone. He fought through the cold wind and hurried back into his house. The young boy set the bike up against the wall and then he kicked off his boots. He looked over at the empty couch in his living room and was then suddenly struck by an odd feeling. The house was quiet. Not a sound.

"Mom?" Peter called out. "Dad?"

A cursory glance around the room revealed nothing unusual. Peter ran from room to empty room, but ended up back in the living room area. Then, he began crying. He looked over and saw the empty couch and he knew what that meant. He knew. Peter Parker looked at the empty couch and cried. He would have cried for hours and hours, but the phone rang. It was off limits as his parents had long told him that he was too young to answer the phone. He did it anyway. With the receiver pressed up against his small ear, he listened intently to the voice on the other line. Finally, he spoke.

"No, I won't give you the equation."

Eventually, the line went dead and the phone call ended. Then, everything went black.

The fortress of blankets provided adequate protection as well as warmth. Mostly, it was a good hiding place. It was the best that a twelve year old boy could come up with. Peter wished that he could hide under these blankets forever. It was his own little world. The real world was unfair. Filled with cruel jokes. Like enjoying the kindness and camaraderie of loved ones and then losing them. Uncle Ben was dead. He was gone and he wasn't coming back. No more baseball games. No more movies. No more going out into the back yard and drinking root beer in the summer. Peter knew what was happening today in advance. Aunt May had told him that a psychologist was coming over to talk to him. He needed to talk about his feelings. Even from underneath the massive fortress of blankets, he could hear two sets of feet pounding up the stairs. Now, the door opened and they entered the room. Aunt May and the woman who was going to ask Peter to talk about his feelings. Introductions were made. Peter gave the middle aged woman a perfunctory nod.

"Everyone is worried about you," she mentioned. "Your teacher says that you don't talk in school anymore. You keep to yourself at recess time. Can you tell me about your feelings?"

"No," Peter replied.

"Can you tell me why you stopped talking to your classmates?"

"No," Peter replied.

"Do you know why I'm here?" The psychologist asked, while taking off her bifocals.

"Yes," Peter answered her question. "You want the equation, but I'll never give it to you."

"Give me what I want or I'll kill you," the woman snarled.

"No."

Everything went black. It felt like an out of body experience. It was cold and dark and it seemed to last forever. Time seemed to have no meaning anymore. Peter wondered what was happening.