RISE | PETER PARKER [ 2 ]

34: WITHOUT HIM

°°°

TRIGGER WARNING: things may get a little too dark, but I didn't want to go easy on Eleanor's mental health. Things were tough, for everyone. I always want to make my stories as real as possible and stay true to my characters. 

°°°

ELEANOR'S EYES FLUTTERED OPEN SLOWLY, adjusting her sight as she regained consciousnesses slowly. The first thing she saw was the white ceiling fan inside her room. She blinked a couple of times more, trying to lift her body up. As her brain began to process her surroundings, pain started invading every single part of her body. She groaned as she tried to sit straight.

The teenager noticed she was inside her room, but her bed has been pushed all the way to the closet on her left side, and she was currently resting on a hospital bed. Brown boxes were scattered around her bedroom, some even had things in them she didn't recognize as hers. She looked around and saw all types of medical equipment: her eyes glanced at cables that slowly directed her to the IV placed in her right arm and the oxygen mask on her face. Her delicate fingers slowly grazed the plastic covering her mouth. So many things ran through Eleanor's mind that she didn't even  know where to start. Her head started developing a migraine, making her right hand travel to her temple, trying to rub off the pain.

She suddenly heard her door handle twisting, immediately lifting her head up as her door opened. Her heart froze as she watched the person walking through the door calmly. It was her mother, carrying what seemed a bag of fast food iin her right hand, and looking for something on the inside with her left. Eleanor's eyes watered at the sight, her mother looked so changed: her long, auburn locks were now up to her chin, with a few white hairs coming out. Eleanor noticed a few more wrinkles on the corners of her eyes and mouthl, along with a tattoo on her wrist. The teenager wanted to scream and tell her that she was fine, that she was right there, but her energy was way below 0 percent.

Her mother groaned and lifted her head from the bag just to see her daughter sitting on her bed, crying. She instantly dropped the bag, and stood there speechless.

"Oh my God-" She pronounced, and just when the girl was about to take the oxygen mask off, her mother ran to her side. "No no, you can't take it off yet. At least, not now."

Eleanor smiled, looking at her mother as tears ran down her face. She reached out and embraced her mother tightly. She felt her mother hug her with the same force she did, and for a moment, they embraced each other as if it was the last time they'd see each other. They broke the hug, and Amelia Page cupped her daughter's face in her hands. With tears in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks, she smiled at her daughter.

"At the bottom of my heart," She started, before sniffing. "I always knew you'd come back."

Eleanor shut her eyes and cried, leaning onto her mother's frame. After all this time, she finally broke down: all the pain, all the weight on her shoulders, were just too overwhelming for her and Eleanor simply broke. She was broken. Her mother pulled her tighter to her chest as Eleanor cried the most she ever had after her father's death; so many feelings she had pushed inside her were now set free. After 15 minutes straight of crying, her mother pulled the teenager's face off her frame.