2 | a breath of fresh air

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PETER PARKER

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PETER PARKER

The buildings around me turned into fast paced blurs of black and white with soft neon streaks as I plummeted through the air, desperately trying to make my web shooters do their job. It's funny that they failed at the one thing they were built to do; shoot webs, and that they were just acting like ugly fucking bracelets under my hoodie. I then scrambled to try and stick to the glass panels of the building, although my usual 'stickiness' had seemingly disappeared too. Great.

I looked beneath me at the ground, the people on the streets growing bigger and bigger as I fell closer and closer to death. Maybe this is what destiny had in store for me, maybe I was supposed to die after losing everyone around me. Maybe after I theoretically 'killed' Spider-Man, it had now become time for Peter Parker to die too. I screwed my eyes shut and braced myself for impact, hoping that my impending death was quick and painless like in the movies. But if I've learnt anything in the past several years, life is never like the movies.

Finally my left wrist activated, shooting a strand of webbing upwards and catching onto something- anything, making my body recoil with the force. Imagine getting whiplash but throughout every single joint in your body. That was how I felt, like a rag doll thrown mercilessly around the air like a lasso.

I opened my eyes and saw that I was only about a metre or two off the ground, hanging aimlessly in the air amongst the bustling crowds of New York. Nobody seemed to have watched the man falling to his death off the countries tallest building, nor did they notice that same man now levitating off the ground and holding onto a strange string. That's the thing about New Yorkers; we don't give a fuck about anything that doesn't involve us.

I let go of the web quickly and felt the muscles in my legs wobble a little, possibly from the fact that I thought I was going to die a mere two seconds ago. My trusty web shooters have never malfunctioned like that before. Then I felt that same wobbling in my head and in my vision, as if I had somehow developed vertigo while the world started spinning around me. And finally, I felt the wobbling in my stomach, instinctively rushing towards the closest garbage can I could find on the street and violently throwing up into it.

I was now that guy. You know, the tragically drunk guy you see throwing up in public whilst you walk past tutting to yourself? That's me.

"What the fuck," I muttered to myself, leaning against the metal bin and looking around the street as the city lights blended together and the sounds around me amplified into a deafening crescendo. I could hear every person, every car, every footstep. It was like I was getting my spider senses all over again, and trust me, that gave me a migraine for three days straight whilst waiting for my body to get used to the heightened senses.

It wasn't until this moment I looked down at my feet to see that the black glob had completely disappeared, along with my left shoe. So not only had I thrown up in the middle of the sidewalk, I had only a single shoe on. I am definitely fitting into the classic drunk homeless guy persona right now.

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