[ON HOLD] Mayhem| Peter Parker

five. dr boom

•CHAPTER FIVE•
dr boom

EXHAUSTION IS LIKE a train. It only needs a minute to pick up speed, a few seconds before it can come barelling along quicker than imaginable. When not considered, it can be dangerous, and crash into you when you least expect it. Even if you can sense— or hear— it coming, turning a blind eye or casting it to the back of the line of worries only results in catastrophe.

When Regan returns home, all she wants to do is take a nap, escape the world for a little while. She feels exhausted, and like she has physically been hit by a train as her body fights to heal itself after last night. But there's too much to get done, so she's left to opt for another form of cathartic release: she presses her face into a pillow and screams.

After English that day, Peter was nowhere to be seen. The plan had originally been to go up to him at lunch and at least pick someone to do their project on, but the table usually occupied by him and his best friend was empty. Even going to his locker right before school ended had been a bust. And now the matter is further complicated by the fact she doesn't have his phone number to text him. She guesses she'll just have to settle for hunting him down tomorrow.

Her head still throbs as she remains face-first down on the pillow, breath coming out hot as it deflects against her own skin. She moves her leg that's hanging over the edge of the bed, and a spark shoots through her body. They've stopped occurring as often as they had last night, keeping her awake by causing that whizzing pain every hour or so, but they're clearly still refusing to give up. Figures she gets the power that never truly shuts off.

It always happens on days when she overexerts her powers, but she can't remember any time she used them more than last night. But Regan presumes that being dunked in deep water just after using them probably didn't help much.

The only bright side is that there's no need for a mission out tonight. The mission in tonight, however, consists of cramming homework that's been put off because of the party. Regan thinks that maybe a Mayhem mission would be more fun as she shuffles across her room to the desk strewn with crumpled up paper and discarded pens.

At least it's nearly the weekend, she reminds herself, but it doesn't do much to evaporate the stress that forms when she puts a pen to paper to begin an essay.

She isn't sure how long she remains like that, the tip of her pen bleeding a dot of ink into the paper. The words won't come and the ticking of the clock on the wall feels mocking, reminding her of every second she wastes. But the concentration won't kick in. Her gaze remains unfocused, brain empty save for the slight buzzing that's been there since last night.

It begins to rain after what could be two minutes or an hour. Drops pelt heavily against the fire escape outside the window, clang after clang after clang. It sounds louder than it should be as she reads through a sentence in the textbook. Her eyes scan it over and over, but the words won't register.