Peter Parker's life was never easy. He is a superhero, an orphan, and the top student at his school. At least he is not alone; he has his Aunt May to look out for him. He was just starting to get used to his new life when tragedy strikes the Parker...
Peter never made it to lunch. Through the locker slam by Flash, to the teachers' droning on and on, it is a wonder that he made it that far. At the time the lunch-starting bell rang, Peter was in front of the school counselor's door with a horrendous headache. Her name is Ms. Hartman if he remembers correctly. The hallway is clear since most of the students are already at lunch. No one could see his hesitation for opening the door. All he needs is a professional signing off that he is fine. His aunt's murder is another bump on his road. It is done, completed, utterly, and completely irreversible.
With a heavy sigh, Peter's hand hovers over the knob. His arms hairs go rigid. An unsettling feeling ripples throughout his body. Even his spidey sense is telling him this is a terrible idea. It doesn't matter; Peter needs a piece of paper to persuade Tony that he is fine.
Taking another deep breath and planting a smile on his face, Peter turns the knob. The office is small and homely. On the side opposite the door, there is a young woman at the wooden desk. Hearing the swish of the door opening, she looks up from a folder and smiles as wide as possible.
"You're Peter, Peter Parker. Right? I don't believe we had the chance to meet." She greets, friendly. "Here, take a seat." She motions to a chair in front of her desk.
"Thank you," Peter says, quietly sitting down in the chair. His spidey sense is still acting up, but there is no threat here. Everything seems normal.
"Of course." She smiles, nodding. "So, what brings you to my office."
"Someone just died and..." Peter trails off and bends his head down. His eyes barely glimpsing a file with Liz's name before it is slammed shut. Surprised, Peter looks up at Ms. Hartman, but her face is the same as before, an overly widened smile.
"I am sorry that happened to you." She frowns, her voice filled with sympathy.
Peter nods, deciding to ignore the weirdness of the file. "It happens." Lie, Peter lie. "But I have my friends to talk to, so it should be fine."
"That's good."
Someone slammed a locker near the room. The booming noise echoed in Peter's sensitive ears causing him to flinch.
"Are you ok?" Ms. Hartman asks, concerned after seeing Peter's flinch.
"Sorry, yes, it's just a headache." The headache was not a total lie; he did have a headache.
"Oh, I think I have some medicine for that." She searches through her draws, holding a white medicine bottle. "I'm not supposed to give medicine without guardian approval, but it's not strong; I am sure they won't mind."
She smiles sweetly, handing Peter a pill. He breathes sharply as his senses react. Still, he holds out his hand as she drops the pill in the center. Ms. Hartman's lips turn upwards outrageously wide again. His gut yelling, deafeningly, but to return the pill would be impolite. The lady in front of him appeared nice enough, not the murdering type. Even if less then a week ago, Peter's life was endangered. He continued to believe the best in people. To someone, it might appear nieve, but to Peter, it was the hero he desired to be. Anyways, the pill could not hurt him with his enhanced metabolism, so against his better judgment, Peter places the pill in his mouth and swallows. (I think this goes without say, but if someone hands you an unknown pill, you don't take it! Don't be as polite as Peter!) For a second, Ms. Hartman's lips transform into a sinister smirk but quickly changes back into her usual smile.
"Thank you," Peter concluded the expression was a trick of the light, or maybe, she was preventing a sneeze.
"It might take a moment to kick in." She states, writing a quick note in a heavy folder. "Back to the conversation. Do you want to tell me about what happened?"
"I..." The world around him began to shift as if he traveled into another dimension. The lights from the window to his right and the ceiling shone brighter than before, staring with different colors, affecting his vision. Through the glare of the lights, he notices Ms. Hartman's mouth moving. Was she talking? No, he would hear, or not. He could not detect anything else other than the ringing in his ears. It was as if he was underwater. Scared, his hands grip the sides of the chair with enough strength to break it apart. He heard a deep crack, the noise echoing into his ears. Frightened, he glances around, his eye landing on the sides of his chair. They are broken; his hands are the only thing holding them up. What did he do? In the surprise, his hands drop the broken pieces, another sound drifting in the air. Finally, his foggy brain connects where he is. He needs to leave to tell Mr. Stark. Peter shakingly moves his legs, attempting to reach the door, but they are not working. He tumbles in front of his chair on the cold, hard floor. A wave of tiredness hits him, his eyes flutter closed. No! he needs to stay awake! With the last of his strength, he forces them open, only to be met with the ominous smile of his school counselor. The edges of his vision turn black as he sees her lips move again, laughing. Sorry, Mr. Stark, he could not stay awake.
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This is a little shorter than I wanted, but I hope it is okay. Thank you for reading!!
