Mourn the dead, Pity the living

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So I'm not dead. You're welcome.

And I want to die.

SO LETS HAVE A DEPRESSING CHAPTER!

Brought to you from My anxiety and depression *~*.

Warning: suicide attempt/thoughts and depressing shit.

Btw I'm writing this at 11 pm so if it sucks I'm sorry -~-.

ON WITH THE ONESHOT!

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Third Person POV

The rain poured in the streets of Queens. The world turned a mournful gray, and people were fleeing the rain under thier black umbrellas to thier safe comfortable homes. Thier wasn't anyone who stayed in the rain, and even the thieves and pickpockets had sought shelter.

 Only one soul remained on the once busy street.

Peter Parker.

He stood there, on a tall building, staring at the city at the edge of it. Gray hoodie up, dark jeans tattered, eyes dull. He put his foot over the edge, but pulled back. Hesitation filled him. One jump is all it takes. He did the calculations, and if he was right, then if he fell... splat. Dead as a doorknob. Just like... her. Just like all the ones he failed to save.

He tried again, slowly moving his foot over. Then pulled back. He seemed rooted to the spot. A choice: let go of it all, or don't. Keep on, or fall. Live or die. He realized something, the day she... left. He realized that the dead are mourned, but the real ones to be mourned are the living. He felt the sorrowful glances from others, the pats on the shoulders, the way thier eyes lingered, before turning away. He hated it. All of it. He just wanted everything to stop, to realize what he was going through. Then they'd know not to pity him.

His chocolate colored eyes once filled with light were now filled with gloom. He had zero motivation. He felt the depression creeping in, the doubt, the dread, the sorrow. It made him sink to the ground and sob. The rain hadn't rained more than he cried. It couldn't compare to him, to his sorrow. The pain, it's too much. Too much. Too much. Too much. Toomuch. toomuchtoomuchtoomuch-

He crawled to the edge. He couldn't take it. May... today was the 1st anniversary of her death. Her... suicide. It was killing him from inside. He finally got to his feet, tears streaming. He heard muffled yells from behind him, and then feels strong arms wrap around his chest. He flinched, then he and the figure landed on the ground with a thud. He turned and leaned into the figures chest, sobbing his eyes out. The figure whispered soft comforting words to him. He only heard one thing...

"It's okay bud, I've got you."

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434 words

Welp. That was a feels train.

Hope you web-heads liked that, I'm trying to update frequently but life happens. By the way, we're at almost 800 views now! Holy crap! Thanks guys! Also almost 50 votes!

Tell ya what, if we get there by tomorrow evening, I'll post two chapters for you guys! So you can do that if you want!

Choose what you want here:

Field Trip

Feels

Fluff

Those 5 and 1 times things

Other

See you webheads later!

-SiederTree Studios-

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