(Peter is 5 in this.)
Being the monster under the bed of young Peter Parker was an interesting job. He was a happy, young child even after he lost his parents. He never seemed to stop smiling in the eyes of his friends and family. That just isn't the truth.
When he walked into his room at night he would lose his smile and tears would start to slowly run down his face. I could hear the sobs of the child most nights.
One night I decided to lay on the bed with Peter. I laid next to the child holding him close as he cried. He looked up at me with his red eyes.
"Who are you," he asked in a shaking voice.
"The monster who lives under your bed," I replied afraid of how he would respond. To my surprise he nodded at me and then laid his head down and soon fell asleep.
For years after that I would sit at the chair by his desk and talk softly to him as he went to sleep and I gave him reassuring words as he cried.
Years later, he is fifteen years old. He has become a teenager. He is still the same kind and sweet boy he was all those years ago. He never came in crying any more. He always told me about his day. He made sure to include all the details.
That day though he never came in. I waited for several days but he never showed up. I held onto my hope that he would be coming home soon. That night I heard the news.
"Peter died on Titan. He fought bravely." The words came from the mouth of Tony Stark. That day I lost the boy from above the bed.
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