𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝙾𝚏 𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛

The death of Spider man

Pretty long but proceed at your own risk if you're sensitive to suicide. This was hard to write:( buckle up for this emotional rollercoaster.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•The avengers sat in the living after being called by Tony a few minutes before. It has been approximately 10 days since the death of the most beloved hero. Their most beloved son, or rather Tony's most beloved son, committed suicide. None of them necessarily pinned the blame on a specific person but felt guilty more than they could ever imagine. Normal after a death.

Tony walked in with a pale face, bloodshot eyes, and a single crumpled paper in his left hand.

He didn't say anything but put the paper on the coffee table for everyone to read. One by one each of them read of the note, and one by one, they erupted into sobs. Some crying silently, others not bothering to cover their tears.

He was a brother, a sister, a nephew, a son.

The day of his birth was the day of his end.

The note had said:

There is a space, a moment in time, where I wished I could give up. The feeling of hopelessness got so overwhelming that the most I could do in a day are get out of my room.

My rooms like a sanctuary, for a lonely person like me, a place where I felt safe behind the pressure of the mask. To everyone around me, it was ridiculous to even entertain the thought I was struggling mentally despite the multiple non-purposeful stuff they saw. Yet again, it's nothing. Everything is nothing.

There was so much pressure on my shoulders to be a good hero, keep citizens safe. Yet I'm not able to exceed those high expectations. And the thought of it alone slowly crippled me inside.

Do you know that person who listens to everyone's problems yet never gets asked about them? I was that person, who listened to everyone's problems, who was the therapist friend. I was never asked If I was okay. Nothing I felt mattered.

I'm hiding behind a mask of a smile, a ghost of happiness, but does anyone truly know me? Get me? Everyone assumes I'm this nerdy happy carefree teen, but did anyone bother truly asking me if I was okay? No.

Yet every time I did feel happy, I couldn't help the guilt that swallowed away at me every single time I felt an ounce of happiness. It vanished a second later anyway. Every single time.

The moment of peacefulness and relief, quickly replaced with the constant dread, constant whispering in the back of my brain reminding me of my wrongs. My mistakes. Those unkind words people said to me.

My heart swelled as the constant feeling of hopelessness, the little bit of hope I had left plummeted to the ground. Every time my heart shattered, sunk like the titanic deep in the ocean. The feeling of wanting to die. My thoughts were invisible. No one saw through me. I drowned my thoughts with the distraction of music, the only thing that got me through the day. Until I snapped. Broke.

The ocean of my brain was the mere existence of the collision my thoughts meddled with the feelings of my heart. Each battling for control. The thoughts winning the battle.

I was spiralling out of control into the darkness of my corrupt brain into the hole of my empty heart. The infamous Peter Parker, the likeable Spiderman. Who was he under that facade of greatness and light. Could it be I was the saddest of all? The most depressed anxiety-filled teen? Has it ever occurred to anyone I'm not okay? No of course not, because even when I tried to explain, the efforts were useless. Pointless even.

Were all those tears shed for nothing? The constant festering frustrations covered by my salty tears soaking so many shirts I couldn't possibly keep count of. The mornings and nights spent slowly dying inside.

The frustration buried deep inside me that daily provoked the waterfall of tears, sadness in most. The sleepless, endless, soulless nights trying to feel better. I wasn't okay. And I'm so tired of having to pretend I was. Those thoughts got the best of me. 

But instead of pitying me and feeling sorry for me, loving me and bringing me flowers to my grave, that affection you claimed to have should've happened while I was alive. I guess it's too late now because its already done. I'm gone.

 I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I put you all through pain. But it had to be done. So the simple solution was, do it. Everyone told me to anyway. I was useless, probably annoying to most. 

The sadness was too much for me to handle. The multiple nights sitting in my room wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Unwilling to move an inch from my bed. I was so tired of living in pain. 

So I guess this is goodbye forever. I loved all of you and hoped you loved me too.

Peter Parker, aka spider man

The sadness was masked by the facade of smiles. The tears were covered by excuses and lies. Was he okay under the disguise? The answer was no in his mind, instead was said, I'm fine. And the next choice that happened was to simply die.

No one moved, no one spoke. Just took a second to take it all in. But it never really sunk in. All those years, it never really managed to settle inside their brains. Because the day Spider-man died, Peter died, everyone died with him.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I wrote a similar thing inside my notes so it was inspired but that. I just tweaked to be a suicide note and for someone who was depressed. Most of this was inspired by my feelings but I promise I am not suicidal. This hurt mentally to write but I hope you all enjoy anyway. Comment and vote, and hope y'all enjoy the day. Also, 2 publishes in a day, yay!

Byes~

Spidey out 💓🕷

( ALSO TYSM FOR 3K + READS!!! LIKE WOW💕)