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Harper left the pizza joint and decided to go on a little walk around the block. Friday night was approaching, but it wasn't too dark yet. It was the perfect temperature, not too hot, not too cold, and Spotify was actually being nice to Harper for once. 

Turning the corner, Harper pulled their phone out of their pocket and saw their notifications.

"Shit," they mumbled, "Tanya must be freaking out since I haven't answered yet. Miles, too."

"I'll check Miles' texts first...Tanya's probably pissed."

'Harper!! Are u okay??? Tanya said u weren't feeling well...'

'yeah i'm good miles. don't worry man'

'I was worried sick dude!!! Glad ur alright'

Harper felt a smile coming on as she read Miles' message. They scrolled through Tanya's texts, through a wall of concerned words. And emojis. Harper took a moment to analyze the situation.

'HARPER!!!'

'Are you okay??? You're worrying me!!'

Two new messages fresh out the oven.

'tanya I'm fine, don't worry.'

'Jesus Harper. Why didn't you answer earlier? Are you sure you're okay?'

Harper chuckled a little to themself.

'i'm okay, tanya, i swear, i must've just been sick or something. im feeling much better now.'

'Good. I was seriously worried.'

'i'm okay. i'm always okay tanya'

'I know.'

Harper slipped their phone back into their pocket after turning up the volume on their headphones. Most of the sounds of Brooklyn were tuned out by Are You Ready For Me by Pretty Vicious. Harper felt like they were in a music video. They put their hood up, a smile on their face, walking toward their apartment complex and turning to enter an alleyway.

And then they heard a ringing in their ears. Felt a sting down their spine, sending an alert throughout their body. Within a split second Harper was on the person behind them, knocking the gun out of a criminal's hand. The thug was just as confused as Harper was.

"Look, man," Harper said, backing away, "I don't want any trouble-" They bumped into someone behind them, soon finding they were surrounded.

"And we didn't want any trouble until you slapped the gun out my hand," One of the men said.

Harper's hands began to tremble, and their knees felt weak, but only for a second. In another moment that felt like it was almost in slow-motion, Harper sensed an incoming punch and grabbed the man's arm, then threw him into two of his buddies. It was like instinct- Harper hadn't even realized what they had done until the others were glaring at them.

"Uh- I didn't mean to do that-"

"What the hell?" Another exclaimed. He lunged at Harper to no avail as they kicked him in the side. He fell on the concrete and with an angered gesture, sent the others to chase after Harper, who was already running off.

Dead ends were all around Harper. They whipped their head around desperately looking for an exit. None of the obvious ones were available. So they climbed up the gate, just as they had done before, though the thugs were on their tail, they ran as fast as their legs would take them. Which was...surprisingly fast, to the others at least.

Harper didn't even glance back- or feel even the slightest bit winded- just kept running until they found themself at home. The familiar sound of reality TV and the smell of burnt food in the kitchen.

Harper took a few deep breaths, letting the heat from inside melt the cold that had slicked their body, trying to calm themself down from the encounter.

"Harper, where the hell were you?" Asked their father from the kitchen.

"Oh, hey, sorry I'm late. I got-"

"You're supposed to tell us when you leave."

"Yeah, I know-"

"Your mother has been worried."

"I bet," Harper muttered. "I grabbed something to eat with Ben."

Their father huffed in response. Harper rolled their eyes. They peered into the kitchen to see what was being made. Some sort of pasta, they guessed, as they opened the fridge and grabbed some water.

The same feeling from before returned. Ears ringing, spine tingling...

"Watch out!" Harper exclaimed, reaching toward their father and grabbing something out of the air. Their father was stunned and silent for a moment. Harper fixated on the small insect in between their fingers.

Their father mumbled, "Harper, that's a fly," and Harper released it from their grasp.

"Oh, yeah," they said, taking a sip of water. More like a gulp. The fly buzzed about as Harper fidgeted, then turned and walked away. They sped to their room and closed the door behind them.

Harper took a good, long look at their hands. Examining what they had just used to fight some street criminals, as if they were foreign to them.

"What the fuck..." They muttered. "What was that? Jesus, man, I could've died." They began to pace around their room. "That- and this morning-"

Everything began to sink in.

Ears ringing, spine tingling. Harper sharply turned toward the window. A lone spider crawled up the wall.

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