Woven webs 》Peter Parker

Home that bleeds of agony

Ms. Jenny White bored him. Peter was never one to enjoy literature that required him to look for a deeper meaning. He found it useless as he preferred to take things at face value.

He was one more hypothesis about the nature of Basil Hallward and Dorian Gray's bond away from dozing off. To him it was simple: the painter likes Dorian.

The door swung open, the principal's bald head and bushy eyebrows came into view. "Excuse me Ms. White, Nayla Mukhtar's presence is required." Peter's head perked up at his announcement, along with some murmurs shared between the other pupils. "Gather your things as well." The principal gave one nod to Nayla.

Nayla mentally groaned as she stuffed her notes into her bag. Unlike Peter, she really liked English literature class. Picking apart phrases and stringing tens of possible meanings. She was an analyst, nothing is as it appears. To her, meaning is in the eye of the beholder, meaning is interpretation. And she interpreted being pulled out of her favourite class as the first move to initiate a war.

Nayla nodded at Peter as a silent goodbye. Her thunderous footsteps echoed confidence and a slight air of arrogance across the classroom. Ever since MJ told Peter of Nayla's admirer, he became conscious of the eyes that trailed her. Their lingering dialated pupils only turned away when she was out of sight. He rolled his eyes in annoyance. He couldn't really blame them for gawking, could he?

She followed the bald man through the school's hallway, his head reflected the overhead lights. Shampoo or soap? The question held more weight to her than the purpose of life itself.

The principal opened the door to his office as a certain redhead had her feet propped up on his desk. "Hey fellow trainee." Natasha teased Nayla. "Thank you principal but we need to get going, it is urgent." The man smiled back, "No worries Ms. Romanoff, stay safe kid." He bid them goodbye as the two marched to the school gates.

"What brings you here?" Nayla questioned, eyes trained ahead onto the sleek black car. "Geez I thought you would be more happy to see me." Nat shoved her with her shoulder. "You didn't even let me have lunch!" Nayla groaned. "Calm your tits down angry birds, I will get you something on the way."

Nat buckled her seat belt, "What's the real deal Nat?" Nayla questioned. "We need your testimony in court against Ross." "And no one told me beforehand." Nayla stated, slight irritation as she felt her everyday life slipping through her fingers. Normalcy had always be foreign to her, but now it became a silly little daydream."In my defense, I was just informed too."

Nayla pulled off her mask as soon as she stepped foot on the compound. It was not as entertaining as Divorce Court or Judge Taylor. The trip up the elevator was silent. She watched the numbers increase as she itched to reach the residential floor.

She was sat on the floor, her back flush against her bed and facing the vast greenery that stretched across the compound. So much had happened in the span of two months. She absentmindedly twirled the ring on her middle finger, the bright ruby orbited around her finger like the loyal satellite it is.

Nayla swiped her thumb across the bright gem, the action sent an ache through her chest. She raised her head up, caging the tears behind her eyelids. Engage with the pain as a motive.

The ring was her grandmother's gift for Nayla’s 14th birthday. At that time however, it was a size too big. She loved jewellery, another trait that the girl picked up from her grandmother.

She recalled how her grandmother took her shopping and insisted on getting her pure gold jewellery as she claimed that it brought out the warmth of her skin and the honey of her eyes.

She remembered how her grandmother's hands felt against her shoulders as she stood behind her. Both their eyes trained on the multiple stacks of gold necklaces draped from Nayla's neck through the shop's mirror. Nayla chose one necklace, as she glanced at her grandmother in hopes of approval.