TOM HOLLAND | PETER PARKER IMAGINES ( SLOW UPDATES )

Searching { part one } | Peter Parker { TH }

warnings: mature language / content
third person
word count: 1718

"I don't have the money ____." This is always the answer to your questions when you want to go to a school event. Your family has always told you, "Don't be like your sister and say that you are going to go, but don't go." It seems like you're turning out just like your sister, but not intentionally. You have always wanted to go to the Homecoming dances but never went because you're parents "never have the money."

"But - But I really want to go. I have been pushing off every homecoming dance and every other school event. Why can't I at least go to ring dance." It's not like you don't tell your parents in advance. Every event that you have been informed you always told your parents so they would be prepared. NEVER, have they EVER, been prepared.

It makes you feel so bad when you tell your friends that you would go, but when the time comes, you can't go. Makes you feel so bad. Makes you feel like the worst friend on the planet or even galaxy.

"What did I just say ____." Your father seems like he always makes the decision In the house. It's like your mother has no said so in anything.

You turned to your mother in the hope that she would finally say something to help you out. "Mum...." But all she did was agree with your father. "Listen to your father ____. If you can't go, you just can't go."

"THIS ISN'T FAIR! I'VE NEVER BEEN TO ANY DANCE THAT THE SCHOOL HAS TO OFFER! YOU TELL ME NOT TO BE LIKE MY SISTER, BUT I FEEL LIKE I'M HERE!" You've given up. This is frustrating you. They lie all of the time, saying they don't have the money when you know they do.

"YOU WILL NOT RAISE YOUR VOICE AT US, YOUNG LADY!"

You scoffed and shook your head. "No, of course, it would be you saying that, papa, since mum is too much of a bitch to stand up to you."

You didn't even feel it. No, not one bit. But you felt your head go from straight to the right. No, this would not be the first time your father has hit you. He has always hit you, and your mother would be at his side standing up for him as she watched you get hit.

"Know I don't you WHO YOU think you are talking to. DON'T YOU EVER, and I mean EVER, call your mum a bitch. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?"

A tear ran down your cheek as you held the right side of your face in your hands.

"a - all I wanted to do was go to ring dance. Why can't I do that?" You didn't want to hear any more bullshit that would come out of their mouths, so you went into your room and slammed your door shut.

Throwing yourself on the bed, you tried not to cry. You wanted to tell yourself that there was no reason to be sad, but then you felt a tear slid down your face. Then another and another, until you fully started crying. You didn't realize it, but you cried yourself to sleep.

"____! GET UP AND GET READY FOR SCHOOL!" You shot up from the bed and rubbed your eyes tiredly. You had a smashing headache that you knew had come from all of your cryings the night before.

Getting out of the bed and letting your feet touch the cold floor, you went towards the bathroom, hoping that you didn't look as bad as you felt. Flicking on the light and shutting the door behind you, you looked into the mirror.

"Fuck my life." You whispered as you got a good look at yourself. You're eyes still red and puffy. You had a nice bruise on the right side of your face that you had no clue how you were going to cover up since you did not have any more makeup. To add all of that up, you still had your smashing headache to deal with also.