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TWO | THE SPIDERS ORIGIN TALE
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THE BLARING SOUND OF HIS PERSISTENT ALARM CLOCK TORE THROUGH THE RESTLESS DREAMS PETER PARKER HAD BEEN HAVING. Dreams of a dark abyss, being chased by the spider from Harry Potter (the giant one that tried to eat the titular character, in case anyone was confused). Every-time he'd tried to wake himself up, he'd only fallen back into a deeper slumber as he sluggishly ran away. He'd felt like he was stuck on a treadmill with the settings turned all the way down because no matter how hard he ran, he couldn't outrun the beast.
But finally, with the morning sun peaking through his curtains and blinding him, he shot up in his twin bed drenched in a cold sweat. He ran a hand across his forehead, swiping away the sticky liquid. The alarm was still screaming at him for attention and he absentmindedly threw his other arm out to silence the thing. A crunch sound could be heard as his palm connected with the device and his eyes widened to see he'd accidentally crushed his alarm clock into tiny pieces.
"Crap," he cursed under his breath as he picked up the sharp pieces of broken plastic. He hadn't realised he'd applied so much force on it, he was usually really rough with it most mornings.
He reached across the rubble for his glasses, needing to get a clearer look at the mess he made. As he slid them on, his eyes immediately felt strained and everything seemed more blurry then they had before he'd put them on. Had his prescription expired overnight? He could've sworn he still had a year before he needed new lenses. Peter slipped the glasses on and off a few times, comparing the difference before deciding to ditch the glasses today. "Weird," he mumbled, wiping the lens before resting them on his bedside table again. He'd read studies of people miraculously waking up with better eye sight but it wasn't a common occurrence.
Before he had much time to ponder, he heard the pop of the toaster in the kitchen closely followed by his Aunt Mays voice. "Peter! Breakfast is ready!"
"Coming," he called out to her breathlessly.
His mind was whirring at a rapid speed as he climbed out of bed. Peter Parker had worn glasses since kindergarten, cementing himself as a stereotypical nerd since childhood. As he shuffled towards his closet, still half asleep, he caught sight of his appearance and almost tripped over a half-incomplete Lego set at his feet. He quickly rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Peter almost reached for his glasses again, wondering is maybe they would clear up the optical illusion he was gazing upon.
