SACRIFICE / P. PARKER

HOPE'S RUN OUT FOR ME, PETER

The silence of the waiting room made her blood as cold as the autumnal air that crept through an open, caged, window. Bereft of any wind the leaves outside hung limply until they fell of their own accord, there was no whispering noise or rustling. It was as if nature conspired to keep her in the dark, not daring to whisper the reassurance she craved. Then, hurried footsteps and the squeak of a door brought her heart racing as fast as a gunshot. Her head snapped in an instant from gazing out of the window with unfocused eyes to the rectangle of white Formica the doctor would return from.

"Aunt May?" Ellie whimpered, shaking hands immediately scattering out to find her's. When she latched onto what felt like an arm, she sighed in relief. She knew May would never leave her, but without any visual proof, she was never sure of anything.

"Yes, I'm here dear. The doctor should be coming any minute."

"I-Is he coming?" Ellie whispered, squeezing Aunt May's arm. She heard May sigh, and could just imagine her face puckering up unpleasantly.

The accident that had stolen Ellie's sight and family away from her happened only a short year ago, and this was the deciding check-up. It was rare that doctors could restore sight after such extensive trauma to the pupil, like in Ellie's case, but she was a sucker for hope. The doctors had given her that while she was laying on what was thought to be her deathbed only 8 months ago. Her situation looked optimistic, they said. But when the incessant nagging in the back of her head that told her it would never happen had gotten louder and louder in the days leading up to the appointment, Peter was there to shut them up quick.

"W-What if they can't fix me?" Ellie mumbled. "What if I'll be in the dark like this forever?"

"Don't think like that," Peter replied, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We can't afford to. But what we can afford to do is hold onto what's been given to us. They said that you could get better? Then you can. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not even yourself, Ellie."

"Oh honey," She breathed. "I know Peter said he would be here, but we both know the boy makes promises that are sometimes impossible to keep. The school is 30 minutes away, he had a make-up Algebra test, the subway is always crowded at this time of day-"

When Ellie heard the deafening creak of the door in the silence of the empty waiting room, and the squeak of sneakers on the tile floor, she knew Peter had entered the room. She heard his labored breathing and could practically see the goofy smile on his face.

"Peter? Did you take the test?"

"Yeah," He breathed. "All of it. Got a B."

"Was the subway crowded? Did school get out early or something?" Aunt May badgered him, obviously flabbergasted that Peter had made it in time.

"No, school didn't get out early. I guess the subway was just moving faster than usual," Peter replied, and she could hear the excited edge in his voice. Ellie knew he had used his powers to get to the appointment in time, and she wanted to reprimand him for it, but just couldn't find it in her this time. He was here, that's all that mattered right now.

Peter and his squeaky sneakers made his way around Aunt May, not without greeting her with a kiss on the cheek first, to Ellie, plopping down loudly in the plastic chair next to her. The perk about being best friends with Peter was that he was extremely loud when he moved, and he didn't bother trying to change it either. She could always tell when he was around.

"Hey, Elle. Miss me?" Peter murmured, voice raising slightly indicating he was stifling a laugh. He grabbed her hand so Ellie knew he was with her. She'd roll her eyes if she could.

"Mhm," Ellie hummed, absentmindedly turning over Peter's large hand in her own. "Thanks, Peter."

Shadows of light and dark were all that Ellie's eyes could detect anymore. She knew day from night and proximity to a window on a sunny day; once in a while Peter would show her the smudge of the moon on a clear night. Without colors in her world, Ellie loved texture, temperature, and fragrance - loving the changes of the seasons for these simple joys. The waiting room was cold, but Peter's hand was warm. She clung to it like it was her anchor, which in some ways it was.