The Crushed Spider

Chapter tEn

shit about to go down and my apologies

WARNING- everything. its just fuckin sad fam

     Depression just doesn't just go away like that. Sure there can be dasy where you might feel better abput yourself then usual. BUt its always there in the background. Lurking behind the shadows. In your closet, under the bed, behind the mirror. Today it's standing behind you, hands on your shoulders, pushing you lower into the chair until you sink into yourself.

     Peter sat at the granite counter, hands covering his head as he tried to catch up on the sleep he missed. Last night was better, but not the best still. He hadn't gotten a good night's rest in months. Maybe even years. Who even knew what time it was. What day is it? What month? He was losing track of time again. Or maybe he never knew in the first place.

      All he knew was that it was early. Even for Steve Rogers, who just happened to be coming back from his morning jog. This usually ended around 8 am. But today it was at 7, for he was extra stressed and didn't want to miss out on anything. He walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, not seeming to notice the small figure contorting himself inward at the counter.

       Peter mumbled a hello, fully aware that Steve had entered. The older man jumped, grabbing his chest and smiled. He chuckled and shook his head, leaning on the opposite side of the granite.

      "Jeez kiddo, didn't see you there. You're up early?" He grinned, taking a sip of the refreshing water. 

      Peter shrugged in response, keeping his head down. The light hurt his head. It was too bright. Too bright. He buried himself deeper, the boys small figure almost blending in. He could barely breathe, the sweatshirt he wore suffocating him slowly. Most people would freak out at this feeling. But he didn't care. It was almost peaceful, like drowning slowly. His lungs closing off, the air tightening-

     "Hey bud. Everything alright in there?" Steve had pulled Peter's shoulder up, forcing him to breathe. The air was like ice, hitting his lungs in deep rushes of wind. He took a couple deep breathes and nodded, mumbling.

      "Sorry, didn't get much sleep." He pushed his hood back, revealing tired eyes and a worn face.

     The blond beside him frowned, "Hey there. No kid your age should look like that. Go back to bed Pete." 

      The older hero helped the younger up, helping him stumble towards the couch. Peter sunk into the furniture, mumbling something incoherent. Steve sighed and pulled a blanket over the almost asleep teenager.

      "Get some rest. I'll wake you up when breakfast's ready." He left Peter alone to sleep and headed to the kitchen, starting tp prepare the morning feast for the team.

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     Peter rolled over his eyebrows furrowing. His mind was racing although he was asleep. The teen's eyes darted back and forth in their sockets. His breath was quick, no pattern seeming to form. 

     It was heavy. The weight was crushing him down. His skull wanting to snap. His skull his skull. His brain was in that skull. His brain was oozing out, oozing. The bricks hit him, in the chest. His lungs oh his lungs. They were heavy.

     What was the weight? Where is he? A building. A heavy building. Crushing him down. Making him sink. Sink into the water. Sinking into drowning. Drowning in the river. Lungs filled with water. Seeping into his nose, through his body. Into his brain. Into his his his brain. 

      He was falling into the water. Falling fast. Falling from the sky. Dropping through the atmosphere. No one around him. All alone and falling. Falling fall fall fall. Going down into the earth as no one was there. Empty until he hit. And hitting the ground.

     Crushed. It hurt. His back was shattered. This was it. The end for him. End end end. End it all. Lungs stop working, brain seeping out and it was heavy. Can't breathe. Can't breathe. CAN'T BREATHE. I CAN'T BREATHE. I CAN'T-

688 words

Thank you so much for reading!

      ~Jack