Narrator
Hunger.
You still hadn't eaten anything since before you found out about Peter.
Your stomach felt like it was eating itself. The hot, constricting pain stained your stomach lining, and even made itself known in your guts.
You felt gross, dirty, and hopeless.
The snow on the ground wasn't intense, but it was enough to give you discomfort.
"I shouldn't have fucking left..." You sighed, crossing your arms as you walked over the only hill on the meadow you were in.
Your luck turned around as you neared the top, seeing a city large, tall and proud.
"New York..." You whispered out. It was incredibly far in the distance, but being the first sight of life you've seen since you left a few hours ago, you were ecstatic.
You paused for only a few seconds before moving along, planning on getting there before sundown.
The last thing you'd want is to roam the streets of New York, New York, at night. With that being said, your strides became larger, your breath became stronger, and your will to survive became heavier.
~~~
By the time you reached the outskirts of the city, you were beyond weak. You wouldn't make it much longer with out some food and water.
"Damn it." You stated as you spotted a farm house nearby. You didn't know there was farm life this close to the city. (AN: Yo idk anything about New York so let's play a game of pretend) You knew you had to get in there and at least get some water.
You creeped up the long, straight driveway, staring at the light on the front porch. It was starting to get dark, but you had no choice.
Once you reached the door, you knocked lightly and waited. You waited and waited. Their lights were on, but they were not home.
Your stomach jumped painfully inside you, and you no longer cared. You needed food, and you were starting to become angry over it.
Your hand lightly lifted onto the handle, and turned it silently.
Peaking your head in, there was no sound other than on the television in the next room. The door didn't make a peep as you closed it, looking around the cute little house. It was clear where the kitchen was, simply because everything was mostly open.
You tiptoed in, feeling afraid of getting caught rather than feeling bad because you broke into a house. It didn't seem like an important crime at this time.
As you passed an open room, you saw a middle aged lady on the couch, facing the tv but eyes closed peacefully. Sleeping, she is sleeping.
Walking into the kitchen, you carefully stalked up to the fridge and opened it, cringing as the contents in the door rattled. Instantly, your hands grabbed things and took them out.
Plastic water bottles, an orange, yogurt tubes, anything you could find. You saw a reusable bag on the counter and knew it wouldn't be missed. Placing your things in the bag, as if grocery shopping, you felt yourself relax.
All done!
"Who's there?" A voice stopped your heartbeat in a second.
Your eyes widened and body froze, bag over your shoulder as footsteps approached you.
"I said, who's in there?!" She yelled. She seemed to be middle aged, but man did she carry an attitude.
You heard a suspicious noise, something clicked once back and once forth. You had never heard a gun load in person, but you had seen enough movies to know.
Farm folk really were more defensive than city folk.
"WHO?!"
"M-my name is Y/n..." You spoke carefully. "I'm sorry, I'm just so hungry."
She walked into the kitchen, visible to your sights, and she looked furious.
"Put my things back and get the hell out." She demanded, pointing a double barrel directly between your eyes.
"Yes ma'am." You stated, taking the bag off of your shoulder. She saw you complying, and dropped the gun to point at the floor. She held out her hand, wanting you to give the whole thing to her.
"I'm just so hungry..." You whispered, watching the bag closely as you began handing it to her.
"Well you don't look hungry." She grumbled. Something about her attitude put a hard, angry feeling in you. However, she had the gun, therefore she was in charge.
You handed her the bag, accidentally touching her hand with yours.
As soon as you felt her skin on your own, she dropped to the ground.
You stared down at her, eyes open and body limp, not knowing how to process the quick action.
"Are you okay?" You panicked, falling onto your knees beside her and holding your hands out as if to help.
What happened?!
"Ma'am?" You called out. You looked at your hand, and looked at hers.
"No no no... I'm going crazy. Yeah that's it. I'm just hungry." You told yourself, standing up. You looked around the kitchen, looking for anything that could help. What would help in this situation?
Your hand touched hers, and she collapsed. That was it.
"Pulse!" You shouted to yourself, remembering to check it. You knelt back down and placed two fingers on her neck.
Nothing.
"Come on, come on..." You moved your fingers around, begging for a pulse.
You weren't responsible for this, it was impossible, right?
You were startled out of your fearful daze when a truck sounded, pulling up to the house.
"Oh god..." You whispered, looking around. The body of the lady was settled onto the floor, sitting there as if it was some sort of accident.
That's what it was, an accident.
You grabbed the bag and darted to the back door, noticing it at the last second, and opened it. As you pulled it closed, you heard the front door open, and a man walk in.
"Rachel, I'm home!" He called. You crept to under the kitchen window, wanting to see how this ended.
"Rachel?" He called loudly. You heard him walk into the kitchen, and saw the light turn on.
"Oh god... oh god! Rachel! What happened? Oh my god!" He yelled. Your eyes got wide again, and your hand flew up to your mouth.
She really was dead...
Tears blinded your sights as you backed away from under the window.
"Please, send help! My wife... something happened!" You heard him speak into a phone. Oh god, the cops were going to be coming. You needed to leave, and quick.
With a tear spilling out of your eye, you backed up and stood up, stumbling over some plants, and began running. Your bag was still over your shoulder, smacking against you as you ran as fast as your heart could make it.
I killed her...
You thought as you ran.
I fucking killed her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
YOU ARE READING
Wilted (Peter Parker x Reader)
Fanfiction(Second book in Flower Girl series) Peter is at a loss for solutions. He's stuck between a rock and a hard place, love or loss, and Y/n is at the end of the scale. He can't keep up. He's tearing himself in two trying to find a way to have everythi...
