The New Amazing

A Girl's Wisdom

The pounding drum in my chest blocked my hearing as I stumbled out of the hospital. I couldn’t swallow the lump in my throat and the world was off its axis, tumbling into black space forever.

Get a grip, Parker, I commanded myself. There’s tons of Gwens in New York. It’s not like your Gwen was the only one. I forced air into my lungs, only letting it go when my chest wanted to burst.

There’s no way it could have been her anyway. I saw her lowered six feet into the ground and covered by a ton of dirt. Someone would have had to dig her out, and by then she definitely would have been dead. What use was she dead?

I changed my previously horrible plan to an even worse one, taking a detour. I could have walked this route with my eyes closed and still end up in the same spot, the grass worn out from days of lingering hours on end.

I would sit in front of Gwen’s grave, sometimes saying anything and everything that was on my mind. Other times sitting and listening to the leaves rustle, to other mourners chatting into the air. I felt safe there, like it was the one place Gwen and I could still be alone together.

However, when I got to my safe haven, something felt off. My worn out spot was still there, her grave was intact, her stone perfectly shined. I crouched down and examined the grass that had grown on top of her coffin. I ran my fingers through the green blades until I felt a subtle lip. I forced my fingers downward and they slipped through a slit in the ground.

I did this all around the grave until I realized it was in a perfect rectangle the exact size of the hole first dug there. I fell from a squat onto my knees, my fingers digging into the soil below me as I waited for the world to return to its normal speed. My body convulsed, my muscles tensing in an effort to stop the movement. Is this what death feels like? It sucks.

Finally, my episode cleared and I realized I had just had a panic attack. I collapsed fully on top of Gwen’s desecrated grave, my heart threatening to beat through my rib cage.  

“You’re OK,” I whispered into the ground, my mouth against the grass.

“You’re OK, you’re OK,” I repeated endlessly until my voice became scratchy.

A gentle touch on my shoulder startled me out of my daze, my body jumping into the air and landing in a crouch. A squeal came from the figure above me, frightened by my sudden movement. For a moment I almost thought it was Gwen, stirring me from reality to drag me further into this twisted dream.

But as my eyes took in the girl above me, I realized she was much younger than Gwen, her young face telling me she was around 12. I quickly wiped under my eyes, not realizing I had let tears spill. The girl stared at me, her head cocked to the side as I slumped onto the ground.

It was about 11 o’clock and this girl was in a graveyard. Well, who was I to judge? As I was about to ask about it anyway, she interrupted me, “It’s OK to cry, you know. I do it all the time when I come here.” Her voice was soft and sweet, soothing in the darkness.

“Yeah?” I asked. “Who do you come here for?”

She looked at me, sitting down in front of me. “My brother died two years ago. Every night I come here when my parents are asleep.” She pointed off into the distance at what I supposed was her brother’s grave. “It’s our little secret though.” She smiled sadly, returning her gaze to Gwen’s headstone.

“Who do you come here for?” she asked.

I studied the ground below me before answering. “My girlfriend. She was… my everything. See that spot right next to you? That’s where I sit every day and talk to her. But now…” I didn’t continue, realizing I was talking to someone other than Gwen.

“Now what?”

I locked my eyes with her's, serious. “Now something’s wrong. Stick your hand right here into the ground.” She did as I said, her hand sliding in between the dirt.

“That’s not supposed to happen,” she stated, her voice full of wonder. “What would do that?”

I stood up, the girl following my lead. Well, it matched perfectly to how they dug the grave when she was first buried, so it would only make sense that-”

“Someone dug her up?”

“Exactly.” The pressure in my chest started to lighten as I shared my findings with this little girl.

“But how did they dig a hole so perfectly that no one would notice? And isn’t it too late to bring her back to life?” she pondered. “Unless whoever did it has some type of magic machine that can save her.”

“You know what?” I turned to her, her words catching my attention. “It may not be magic, but some pretty strange things happen in this city. Who’s to say it’s not possible?”

I turned the idea over in my head. Harry’s father had enough gadgets and equipment to keep him alive for years, why wouldn’t they have something to bring the dead back? But the real question was what were the side affects? Everything that had happened in New York had had a massive downside, except for Spider-Man of course. But the Lizard, Green Goblin, all of them results of an experiment gone wrong.

The girl‘s voice interrupted my train of thought. “You should call Spider-Man, he’s dealt with stuff like this before.”

I smiled down at her, “Your ideas just keep getting better and better, kid.”