The Pain of Existing

Chapter 1

Hello Marvel fandom! This is my first Spiderman story, so go easy on me! I just saw Spiderman: Homecoming, so this takes place in that universe. I've never read the comics, and I really don't remember the older movies (I'm in high school). I'm venturing out into some of my other fandoms, so expect more stuff like this!

Half of this medical stuff isn't gonna be right, I'm making this up as I go. Sorry guys.

Warning! Depressing as hell! May contain triggers!

Again, this takes place in the Spiderman: Homecoming universe.

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

Peter's P.O.V.

I climb in through the window, shaking the rain out of my hair and checking to make sure the door is locked. Aunt May isn't home, but I'm not taking that chance.

I'm not good enough.

I pick up the small pocket knife that had been resting in my dresser drawer. Slowly, I flick open the small knife, bringing it to my left thigh.

It's all my fault.

I bring the blade down, slowly dragging it into the flesh of my leg.

Everybody hates me.

I make 3 more cuts on that leg, pausing after each slow swipe to watch the blood ooze out.

I'm not strong enough.

I move on to my right thigh, making four cuts on that leg as well.

I'm a disappointment.

I sigh, before pressing an old shirt against the cuts. The sudden pain brings me back to reality, and I'm left gasping for breath.

I'm not worth it.

I remove the shirt, now covered in blood, and close my eyes. I steady my breathing before applying pressure to the other leg.

I don't deserve to be loved.

Once the blood is off my legs, I wipe the pocket knife on the shirt as well, cleaning off the crimson stains. I toss the blade back into the drawer, and put my head in my hands.

I'm weak.

My eyes are watering like I'm about to cry. My limbs feel like deadweight, and my head is pounding with an oncoming migraine. I fall back, dropping my head on the pillow. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to stop the tears that are flowing steadily now.

Time passes as usual, and I wait for Aunt May to come home. By 8:30, she still isn't back. She should've been home over an hour ago. I see my hands start to shake. My heartbeat pounds in time with my head, and I can feel my chest tightening as I struggle to breathe. A panic attack. Great.

I take small breaths, on the verge of hyperventilating. I focus on my breathing, and my heart rate slows to its usual thumping rhythm. Ok. Better. But now I notice how truly exhausted I am. I close my eyes, and I am enveloped in unconsciousness.

«»

I wake up to see the sunrise in my window. I roll over, and only when I feel the pain travel up my legs do I remember what happened. I quickly flip so that I can see the cuts on my thigh. They're mostly scarred over, but the deeper cuts are still bleeding a bit. And, even better, some of the blood is on my clothes. I head to the bathroom to put a bandage around my thighs, then I go back to bed. Everything hurts, but at the same time, I feel numb. Maybe more sleep would help.

"Peter? Wake up! Time for school!" Aunt May knocks softly on the door, waiting for an answer. When I don't respond, she opens the door a crack to peek in. "Peter?"