Oh, making bad decisions,
Oh, making bad decisions,
Making bad decisions for you.
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I'm running.
I'm darting through New York, not skipping a beat. My feet don't hit the ground; they glide, smooth, careful, precise.
My vision is perfect.
Everything in front of me is clear and focused as I run, not the usual blur and streaks of light and colors I usually see. I tear through the empty streets, not bothering to wonder where all the people are.
An uneasy feeling creeps up on me like a ghoul, hot on my tail.
I keep running.
I'm not going to make it.
There's no point in denying it. I know it's true. Everything I see is true.
Most of the time.
The future is subjective. Anything can change. Not this, though. The anxious feeling will get me. It will smother me until I am completely blocked in.
Suffocated.
It's catching up, faster than ever. Too fast. There's nothing I can do.
There's nothing I can do.
There's nothing I can do.
There's nothing I can-
"Y/N!" The harsh and sharp voice pulls me out of my slumber. I blink, sitting up suddenly. Everyone is staring at me. Of course they are, I fell asleep in class.
I catch the eye of a boy with fluffy brown hair and brown eyes. He turns away once he notices the eye contact, suddenly embarrassed. I notice that my face gets hot as well.
His name is Peter. I don't know him very well.
"Can you tell us what we're learning about, Ms. L/N?" My teacher, Mrs. Dexter, asks, her eyes shooting daggers through her horn rimmed glasses.
I've always thought Mrs. Dexter looks like a bird. Small, beady eyes, sharp nose, skinny and frail, though her personality would never suspect you to believe any of this was so.
"The equilibrium constant." I answer, my voice flat. Mrs. Dexter knows I'm right, but she still holds her gaze.
"And what is the equilibrium constant?"
"The ratio of the concentrations of a reaction at equilibrium." I keep the eye contact until Mrs. Dexter breaks away, satisfied with my answer.
"Nice one," My best friend Betty Brant whispers next to me. Her blonde hair is kept out of her face with a plaid patterned headband. A thin smile spreads across my face.
"Thanks." The bell rings, saving us from the rest of Mrs. Dexter's lesson. She gives me a cold look as I leave the classroom with Betty.
YOU ARE READING
Prophet || Peter Parker x Reader
أدب المراهقينY/N L/N leads a pretty normal life: an A average student at Midtown High, well-liked, well rounded, etc. A not so normal part of her life? Being Prophet, a superhero like figure with incredible abilities and the difficulty of not being able to tell...
