Take My Hand | Peter Parker

Chapter 25

TW: Death

I was beginning to regret choosing this night for my expedition. It shouldn't be allowed to get this cold, and the wind would only make things ten times worse.

As usual, New York City was busy, bright and loud, even during the night. 

I decided to steer clear of the downtown area itself and stay closer to the suburbs. If I was spotted, I could never go back to being hidden and unknown by the world. 

It had been a while since I used the "ropes". They weren't easy to control, and I wanted to avoid using them. I was only able to use them as a means of transport. Maybe they could be used in an offensive manner too?

I raise my hand in the air, pausing when I remember the sudden jolt that would accompany it. There was something keeping me at bay. I close my eyes, trying to blur out the world. There was screaming - but when I opened them, all that could be heard were the busy streets, far in the distance.

A voice choked my throat, keeping me from saying anything. I was so scared to even move, afraid that I would fall forever... and if I did, that would be the end.

The ground feels unnaturally weak, as if it could give out at any moment. I felt lightheaded and swayed slightly. When I closed my eyes again, the elevator floor shattered like glass, cutting my skin in the most agonizing ways. I screamed in horror. The sensation of falling made the cuts sting all over.

A large, blood red monstrous hand that looked completely mauled grabbed my neck, squeezing all the breath out of my lungs. Somehow, I was still falling. 

As I hit the ground, my neck snapped grotesquely. 

I was sweating, feeling delirious, and completely winded. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see it was all an illusion my own brain tricked me into believing. 

But this actually happened months ago. My subconscious was reenacting those events, but shaping them into a twisted memory where I supposedly died. The trauma never truly went away - and I was starting to realize my mind deceived me after the accident. I pretended to be well, but me, as a whole, was rotting away.

I never came to that conclusion until now.

I lowered myself to the ground. I couldn't control my heavy breathing and shaking body, nor could I fully prevent it from happening for a second time this night. Why was I even going to do this? If using my powers was a result of this breakdown, what was stopping me from going back inside? 

I was strongly tempted to climb back through my window and crawl into the warm bed that gave me comfort and a sense of security.

If I chose to do that, I would be giving up on myself. This night was still going to be an opportunity to learn how to use the powers I developed. I had to convince myself this was more important than anything I would ever do. I took a deep breath and stood up, trying to focus on the positive outcomes. 

Raising my arm for the second time felt - natural. 

I curled my hand and felt the smooth texture of the rope. That only lasted for a hot second, and I was whisked straight up into the air, holding onto it with a death grip.

I completely forgot how difficult it was to transition between lines. As I kept going up at an impossible speed, the air became thinner. My vision was fuzzy, probably from the lack of oxygen. I had to force the line to break itself. As I let go of the rope, it faded completely and I went up, up, up, until I wasn't being launched through the air at the same speed as before.

It all happened so fast - I was plunging towards the ground with no end in sight.

I screamed so loud that it resonated in my eardrums. In that moment I was too scared to summon a rope. I took a few deep breaths and lifted my shaking arm, using the same motion as earlier to grab a rope, not at a ninety degree angle this time.