When I woke up the next morning I expected to find police waiting at my bed, despite my thoughts of victory the night before.
I had just stolen from a hospital, and without any sort of mask, meaning any one of the nurses could identify me if they ended up reporting me. Not to mention, if I ran into anyone who had seen my face it'd also spell some pretty deep trouble for me.
I waited out my last hours in the hospital nervously before the nurse came to discharge me.
"What happened to you was traumatic, and if you're having nightmares of any kind we recommend this therapist," the redheaded woman behind the front desk said, passing me a business card with something scrawled on the back. I gave her a smile, filling out the necessary paperwork.
"Thanks." I said, glancing up from the clipboard and my cheeks reddened. She was the nurse whose uniform I had hijacked. "Have a nice day." I smiled, grateful to be done with the hospital.
It was around dinner time and the skies were darkening when I walked out the hospital doors. Pausing next to a bush covered in colourful flowers, I shrugged on my jacket, and hastily stuffed the pages into the bag from which my stuffed animal - whom I had yet to name - was sticking out of.
The walk didn't take long, and when I got home I found a hastily scribbled note on my front door in messy handwriting. I unlocked the door and dropped my bag inside, taking the note and heading to the elevator lobby as I read.
Gwen,
I fo--nd out some--ing h-ge about F-s-, m-et me on the r-of so we c-n tal-!
Pet-r :)
The handwriting was smudged so badly in places I couldn't make out some of it but the gist was clear. Meet me on the roof. Whoever wrote this, and they most definitely were not Peter, had clearly been in a hurry.
I paused, staring down at the note as I realised something. This note wasn't written by Peter, so it was most likely written by whoever tried to kill me, which meant either my uncle, or my old best friend was waiting on the roof for me. My vision tunnel, just for a moment and my emotions overtook me. A mix of sadness, anger, fear, confusion and worry washed over me like a freezing wave, warring with each other, surging about like stormy waters.
Either my old best friend or my uncle had tried to kill me.
I let that thought settle before it came rushing back up in the form of vomit, and I darted to the trash can, spilling the hospital food I'd been given before my departure into the bin.
I felt around in my pockets for something to clean my face, and luckily, a small plastic Kleenex package was in one of them. I cleaned off my face, swallowing my nerves and attempting to calm myself.
Glancing down at the silver cuff on my wrist I tapped my foot nervously. If anything went wrong, and it undoubtedly would, I still had one of Peter's web-shooters, and if necessary I knew how to use it. Pressing the up button next to the closed elevator doors I waited for a few moments before the doors opened with a ding.
Steeling myself, I stepped inside. "No time like the present." I said aloud, turning to watch the doors close.
As soon as they did I snorted, my serious composure breaking. I barked out a laugh, doubling over.
"What was that?!" I laughed, putting a hand to the wall for support, steadying myself.
Straightening, I made eye contact with my reflection and put on a dramatic face.
"No time like the present." I mocked, deepening my voice.
Cackling to myself, I shook my head.
"Gods, I crack myself up." I muttered under my breath, laughing to myself.
YOU ARE READING
Unlucky
Fanfiction❝Death doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes.❞ **** The two of them don't know it yet, but they have a lot in common, Gwen is a lot dorkier than she might let on, and Peter knows what it's like...
