The Masks we Hide Behind || Peter Parker [1]

thirty-one: o-o-h, child

My eyes are open and I'm wide awake when my alarm goes off the next morning.

I barely got any sleep. I wasn't really tired. Instead, I sat in silence. I didn't even plug in my headphones and listen to music. No, instead I lied comfortably in my bed, tucked under my covers with my head resting in my soft pillow, staring straight up at the ceiling.

I didn't think. I let the emptiness take over and consume me until eventually my eyelids felt like weights and I drifted into a restless nap that stretched for maybe an hour or so. I woke up just before the sun was about to rise, leaving me with plenty of time to roll over and fall back asleep. But I didn't. I rolled onto my side and thought. I still felt empty.

And as I'm lying here, listening to my alarm blare through the speaker of my phone, I still feel empty. It's weird and unfamiliar. It's nothing but emptiness surrounding and engulfing me. I roll over silently and shut my alarm off before I slowly sit up, planting my feet flat on the floor of my bedroom.

Minutes go by like hours when I get myself dressed and ready, and as I'm yanking a brush through my long hair, all I want to do is crawl back into bed and do nothing at all. With a frustrated sigh I practically throw the hairbrush down and pull my hair back into a ponytail. I stare at myself in the mirror, not even sure what to think. I don't even think twice at the two giant pimples that sprouted overnight - one on my forehead, one near my lips. I don't cover them up with anything, and I don't try to pop them. I just wash my face, brush my teeth, throw on my sneakers, grab my backpack, and leave.

When I arrive at school, I don't meet up with Peter, MJ, or Ned. Instead, I stand at my locker and pretend like I'm busy gathering my things. Really, I end up just stand there, scrolling through old photos on my phone. I scroll past several pictures of the skyline, a couple selfies here and there of myself all suited up - ridiculous, I know - and multiple screenshots of memes Ned and Peter had sent me. I pass by old pictures of my three friends and I - one of all of us in Peter's living room, all dolled and dressed up for homecoming freshman year.

I scroll past pictures of Lucas and I, pictures of Ned sleeping with random crap drawn on his face, thanks to Peter and I, and many, many pictures of MJ flipping people off. I get lost in the moment and I flinch when the bell rings, and the only thing I take note of is that the empty feeling still surrounds me.

I'm silent during advisory. I stare at my desk and answer when my name is called on the roster. But that's it, and advisory goes by in a blur. I don't meet up with Ned to walk to art. I head there by myself and sit down quietly. For the first time in awhile, I'm the first one into the classroom. I set my sketchbook onto the table and open to the next blank page, waiting for everyone to arrive and for the bell to ring.

Ned says hi, and I return it. He can always tell when something's up, but it's nice, because he never presses you to talk. He just sits there, in your presence, offering the most comforting silence. It's nice, and needed.

Everything goes by in a dull, silent blur. During Spanish, Peter tries talking to me, and I try my best to answer. It doesn't really work out.

"Everything okay?" He asks gently, his eyes filled with real concern. I purse my lips into a small smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I reply quietly.

"Mads, you know you can always-"

"Really, Peter, just leave it, okay?" I interrupt, rather frustrated. It's silent between us for the remainder of the period.

The rest of the day drags on and on, and at the end of the day, I find myself alone. On my walk home, I feel my phone buzz from my pocket, and I pull it out as my music quietly plays through my earbuds. The air is cold and my fingers are numb as I unlock my phone, opening the text message that was just sent by Peter.