Spider-Man | Doesn't Need Help

CHAPTER 10

  "Good morning, Peter." Reluctantly, I shifted my gaze towards the source of the voice.

  "Mhm." I muttered, honestly not intending to say anything more.

  The doctor walked up to my bed and looked down at me with a slight smile. He wasn’t the same man who came to me when I first woke up here. I had seen him that first day, and it turned out to be the last.

  "How do you feel?"

  I rolled my eyes. The same question every day—it was getting really tiresome. At first, I tried to be polite, but now, I didn’t care about anything anymore.

  "Great." I muttered, closing my eyes. "Before you say anything else, my answer is always the same." I immediately said, sensing that the same conversation was about to unfold again.

  Specifically, I was referring to my conversation with the psychologist. On the second day I was here, a man appeared, the same one who had rushed here with my aunt the day before. Williams. It turned out he was a psychologist and wanted to talk to me about what happened with Mr. Adams. For an hour, I didn’t say a word, literally. Maybe I came across as a sulking, rude brat, but I didn’t care. The important thing was that I never saw him again.

  But, of course, it couldn’t be that simple. For two weeks, every day, everyone who spoke to me tried to convince me to talk about what I had been through.

  Why was it so hard for them to understand that I didn’t want to?! It was in the past. Okay, maybe it left a huge scar on me, but it couldn’t be undone. I had tried before to process the death of my parents. It did nothing, I just wasted time.

  "Pete…"

  "Don’t call me that." I growled.

  Only they could.

  "Sorry." He scratched the back of his head, still wearing that little smile.

  Then there was an uncomfortable silence.

  I don’t even know when I started scratching the skin around my nails. I always did that when I started getting nervous.

  "I don’t understand." He suddenly spoke, breaking the heavy silence. "Why do you refuse to talk to someone professional? You’ve been through… Hell. A real conversation will help you." I sighed.

  I didn’t want to talk about it. But if I wanted peace, I had to admit one little thing. Maybe then they would give me the peace I wanted.

  "I don’t want to talk because I don’t know how. I can’t talk to strangers about my problems or what I’ve been through."  I let that out, hoping it would be enough. "And before you say anything, sir, no, they won’t be anything other than strangers after some time. I can’t trust them, so I won’t talk to them about anything." I added, certain that this would work.

  That was the only real thing I had said in four years. With Mr. Adams, I couldn’t show anything. Every time I did, I got hurt even more.

  But recently, I found a way to calm myself…

  Not looking at the man anymore, I closed my eyes and placed my hands behind my head.

  "It’s fine." I quietly rejoiced in my mind, but my facial expression stayed the same.

  Another year at Mr. Adams’ place, and I was sure I’d be able to control my facial expressions even better.

  "I see someone came to visit you." Surprised, I opened my eyes, quickly turning toward the door.

  I turned pale instantly.

  I really would’ve preferred it was May, who had been coming here every day. But I didn’t want to see that damn Aiden Evans.