Dancing Around // peter parker

42

MJ and I spend the afternoon in the library discussing our lecture plan. We made a script, practiced it a couple of times, and even made a PowerPoint discussing vocabulary and step-by-step solutions on how to solve a problem. Researching it in a way where you have to teach it really helped me better understand the subject. It made me think for those couple of hours that maybe Cindy saw something in me that I didn't see myself. Maybe I was good at math, I just didn't learn as fast. Maybe we all confused learning a subject quickly with being good at a subject.

I walked home alone just as the sun was setting. I got home and let my bag dropped to the chair, before shuffling into the kitchen and grabbing yet again another bag of uncooked pasta before placing it into a pot with water and watching it as it slowly boiled. I felt guilty just standing for a moment, waiting as my food got made like I was wasting precious time. I kept thinking to myself that I could be doing a homework assignment or studying instead of waiting. The bags of my eyes felt heavy and I was so tired. Every time I felt this urge to crawl into my bed that hasn't been slept in for at least three days, I opened an energy drink and took a sip.

My pasta got cooked. I added a jar of sauce and then placed a large amount on a plate before taking a seat on my green couch and turning the tv on. I twirled my fork into my food, collecting slowly the twister of sauce when the beep at my door sounded and my mother with a suitcase walked in. I gave her a quick glance before looking back at the tv. "You're home," I said.

"I'm home."

"I didn't know you would be back today."

She didn't say anything, just rolled her suitcase into her room and shut the door. I looked towards the door, quickly understanding that she was probably in a bad state of mind. I thought back to those pills. It must be bad again. I looked back at my tv, turning the volume down just in case she had a migraine because that's all I could do. I watched a little bit of a sitcom, but then switched to the news once I had finished my spaghetti. The local news was reporting on some robberies that have been happening for some time had now stopped.

"Thanks to the local superhero The Spider-Man," the anchor said. Then a clip was shown of the superhero in blue and red swinging from one building to another as a clump of bad guys were wrapped in white webbing and hanging upside down from a light pole.

My mom came out of her room, her feet dragging across the gross wood, each step making a heavy thump. The cabinet opened and sounds of shuffles were made before they came to a stop. "I can make you some soup," I said. She ignored me and went back to her room. I looked back at the mean people of New York smiling at the hero as he posed for the camera.

I didn't really like Spider-Man, mostly because he was a superhero, but also because he took away my matches. Yet, I found myself wishing that he could come into my home and save my mom from her depression. I wished her depression was as easily caught as those bad guys. I wished he could put his webbing around it and hang it upside down so my mom could notice the bags under my eyes.

But not all villains were so simple. Not all villains were so easy to see and label. Not all villains were other people.

...

Dear Reader,

This book is almost over. Only got a couple of chapters to go. Thanks for sticking around this far.

From one sun to another,

aloneeedra