Fractured Mind

Chapter 2

BANG.

Peter heard a gunshot from behind him and whipped his head around. A blonde man darted away from the scene as another man fell to the ground. The people who had seen it screamed and ran.

I have to help him, Peter thought. He ran up to the motionless body and then abruptly stopped. No, no, no. He squeezed his eyes shut until they began to throb. It couldn't be him. When he opened his eyes again and knelt down next to the man, it was confirmed. His uncle was the man who had been shot

"Oh God, no! Uncle Ben! Uncle Ben!" Peter shouted as tears filled his eyes. His uncle's warm blood poured between Peter's fingers as he tried to slow down the flow. "Call an ambulance! Someone call an ambulance!" Everyone else had already run from the gunshot. There was nobody nearby to hear him. Peter frantically looked around for someone to help them.

This is all my fault. I should have just stayed home. What have I done!? He couldn't help but remember the last words he had said to his uncle right before he left home. Only half an hour ago...

He looked back down at his uncle and let out a strangled gasp. It was no longer Uncle Ben that he is looking down at; it was the limp body of Gwen Stacy.

"Gwen.." he whispered and his hand trembled as he moved in to caress her cheek. The second his fingertips made contact with her skin, her eyes instantly opened and Peter found himself staring into their icy blue depth.

"Peter..." Gwen said in a faraway voice, "...you...did...this..." she let out a sigh and her body disappeared.

"No!" Peter shouted as his hands darted forward, grasping nothing. There was nothing left. Nothing. He stared at the empty space in front of him. That's when the hollow feeling began to creep up on him again. It felt as if a space has been carved from his chest, leaving another hollow gouge. Taking away his pain, his emotions, as if it were saving him.

"Peter! Honey, wake up!" Aunt May's voice woke him up from downstairs. He quickly sat up in his bed and put his hand to his chest, feeling his heart still racing.

It had been two months since Gwen had passed away. Two months since he had killed her. There hadn't been one night she hadn't appeared in his dreams.

A faint knock on his door startled him from his thoughts.

"May I come in please, Peter?" Aunt May asked.

"Sure," he said as he clicked his remote-controlled door lock.

The door slowly opened to reveal his aunt with a worried expression on her face. This is odd, Peter thought, she hasn't come into my room since... he quickly ended his thought there.

"Peter I- I think that- Uh-" she fumbled over her words as her hands fidgeted with the dish towel in her hands. "I was just wondering if maybe you considered going out to get a job anytime soon?" she rushed her words.

He raised an eyebrow at this. Without saying a word, he walked over to his desk and pulled out a wallet from his drawer. With a quick peek he saw the two twenty dollar bills left. He pulled them out and gave them to his aunt. How could I be so selfish, he thought. She's working nearly seventy hours a week to be able to afford this house and I haven't done anything to help.

"Peter!" she chastised him, stepping away from his outstretched arm. "How could you think I was asking you for money!?" she crossed her arms.

For a second he stared at her in confusion but quickly recovered and slipped the money back into his wallet. He would sneak the money into her purse later.

"Never mind," he shrugged as he walked over to his bed and let himself fall backwards on top of it.

"I would never ask you for money, Peter. I'm the adult. I take care of you. It's just that.." she trailed off, shooting quick glances at him and back to her feet.