Year: 2016

Dimension: E-616

Reality: Abnormal//Query?Normal?... Status Unknown

.... . .-.. .--. / -- . / .--. . - . .-.

The sudden feeling of the soft mattress on you back, the quickening of you pulse, your mind seeming to respond to cognitive thoughts, your eyes squinting into the early morning light. It seeps through the wind-blown curtains soaking the walls of your room in a golden colour. A yawn escapes you as you stretch your slightly numb arms above your head, your back creaks in time with your neck and shoulders.

"Ah..." You sigh with a croaky voice. "I need to exercise more." Your alarm barks at you and you roll your eyes in annoyance as you slap your hand onto the side table next to your bed, fumbling fingers to try and hit the right spot on the touch screen. Once all is peaceful a familiar voice wafts through your hearing.

"(Y/N)." Your name is said gently from behind the door, whispers echoing in your ears. Her sweet voice carrying throughout the small room. Or so you had wished. Your own mind playing tricks on you, pretending that they're still here. That your parents were still alive and not where they lay six feet under. It had happened years ago but that didn't mean that your heart still ached for them as if it had happened yesterday.

"C'mon (Y/N)." You mentally slap yourself. "Snap out of it." School books and clean washing litter the hardwood floor that you plant your feet firmly on. Your breathing begins to steady itself as you ground yourself back to reality. Starting to wade through the mess, you spot a clean school uniform crumpled next to the desk chair – well at least you thought it was clean. Narrowing your eyes and knitting your eyebrows together in nervous curiosity you bring the grey uniform up to your nose and take a whiff of it to make sure. Suddenly, you retract it away from you and shrug. It only smelt a little, no one would notice. Keeping up with schedules and washing your clothes when needed wasn't exactly your 'mojo'. But somehow, you still managed to get school work handed in in time alas starting it at 1am the morning of the due date - still managing to get top marks. But you weren't the only one who got top marks, sure, many pupils did at your school but there was someone in particular that intrigued you. Peter Parker. You didn't know him too well, but you knew enough to know that you had a lot more in common than he probably thought. Top marks? Check! Good sense of humour? You'd like to think so! Dead parents? No problem! A caring caregiver? Well, no can do on that one.

As you piled textbooks into your backpack you wrenched a comb through your knotty hair and stumbled through the mess towards the bedroom door. Yanking the door wide open you cringe as it produced a loud bang as it hit against the wall.

"Whoops." You stared back it momentarily before searching the Brooklyn apartment desperately for your shoes. As you caught sight of your scuffed school shoes you brought your wrist up to check the time only to see no watch. "Of course. Just my luck." You had left it on the kitchen table last week overnight only to wake up to its sudden disappearance. Probably David...your caregiver if that's what you'd call him. But you thought caregivers were meant to care. Clearly, he didn't care about your watch when he cleared the table drunkenly one night. Not that he even felt slight concern or took an interest in you. The only reason he kept you was the extra 157 dollars he got per week to fuel his not so secret alcoholism. But if you stayed out of his way he stayed out of yours. So, it wasn't all too bad here. You just wouldn't dare to tell child services, they'd have a seizure.

You jog back to your room...more like hop on one foot as you try to tie your laces on the other. You stumble against the door frame, your shoulder digging into the plaster. "Ow, ow, ow." You keep blundering like an ungraceful naked mole rat to the side table and snatch up your phone...which of course is still connected to its charging port. You wince as picture frames fall down from the sudden motion of the cord causing an unpleasant crashing sound. "Uh, tonight!" You promise quietly to yourself. Just another task to add to the long list of procrastination worthy chores.

Finally, the literal mess of a normal human that you consider yourself to be is tip top and ready for school. But just as you're about to head out the door you lean backwards and groan. "Ah crap." Your stomach grumbled in hunger as it practically ordered you like an angry sergeant to eat. Hurriedly you race back into the apartment and take the first thing you can find from the fridge which happens to be leftover pizza and stick it in your mouth as you slam the front door shut behind you.

You lick your now slightly oily fingers as you head out the door puffed from scampering down four flights of stairs. The sun was much lower than you would've liked it to be, but you didn't exactly have a choice. Sure, it was just school...but today you had to be up extra early to get there in time for the excursion to Oscorp Laboratories. Honestly, the only reason you were somewhat excited was because Peter Parker was going. Peter wasn't exactly the most popular guy at school, he's nerdy and wears glasses – right up your alley. Plus, he was probably the one person you had a shot as being friends with and to be honest you didn't have many friends at all. Your personality happens to coincide with the more introverted type but that doesn't mean it doesn't get lonely from time to time. But Peter's always sticking around with that Harry Osborn kid, so you were pretty sure it was the endgame for you.

The morning is slightly chilly, and a gentle breeze tussles your hair in gentle motions, the sunlight shining through it. You had to admit that even though you considered it to be a horrid hour of the mid-morning that it was rather beautiful. The red and brown brick buildings cast shadows behind them and you heard annoyed shouting coming from apartments who were trying to keep their children to the daily grinding routine. Routine, you despised that word. You wanted to be free, to fly through the air free as a bird. To be away from the conformities of the daily tedious and repetitive routines that most of the population abided by. You weren't one for school, weren't one for a proper job, weren't one for much really. You just wanted to live in the moment.

You adjust you headphones and blazer as you approach the train station which is of course packed with people. Many like you on their way to Manhattan to do something with education or the long tiring jobs of the shrinking middle class. You don't care that much for it anyway, all you really want to do it sit on the train listening to your music loud enough to make doctors worried, get home and kick your shoes off and maybe go to a karate class. You live in New York, you gotta learn how to defend yourself somehow. If only the other superheros weren't too busy being in over their heads maybe they'd look out for the little guy once in a while. Stop a robbery maybe? Yeah, that'd be nice. One can only dream.

The train ride to school was longer than usual due to the vast amount of other New Yorkers getting off at every single stop. You sway as the trail comes to a halt and accidentally bump into a middle aged man in a black dry cleaned suit. You mutter sorry under your breath, but he doesn't even turn a blind eye to you. With a small grimace on your face you exit the graffiti-ridden train and walk the busy streets. Cars zoom past, bright yellow taxis honk their horns and busses hiss as they leave their stations. The city that never slept kept true to its name. But finally, after tracing your way to school you stand before the black iron gates of where you'll remain at their oh so loving generosity of knowledge.

You walk up the steps with a slight skip in your step and push open the glass door. The halls of the school are unusually vacant giving you the opportunity to sneak to your locker and empty the contents out of your bag into a messy heap. The excursion would be for most of the day, but you'd be back in time for the last period. You sighed in the tranquil peace and quiet which was unfortunately quickly broken. "Best day of my life." You uttered sarcastically.

"Don't get in my way, Peter." The somehow popular school bully sneered in Peter Parker's face. You stole a glance at the unpleasant scene and felt sick to your stomach before forcing yourself to look away. As much as it pained you to not step in, you'd rather not challenge the largest fifteen year old in school. But Peter didn't deserve that treatment. You had half your classes together, but you always sat on opposite sides of the sweaty classrooms. You wished you had the courage to go over there and wage a war against Flash, but you were always told that if you kept quiet and stayed out of drama you would whiz through your school life without a single trouble. And so far, that had worked out quite well – for the most part.

As you turned and closed your locker with a distinct clunk you kept an ear out for anything, for a single peep out of the young brown haired boy, but Peter kept quiet as per usual. Your shoulders hung low and forward as a disappointed sigh escaped you. Hugging your arms tightly to your chest whislt starting your journey to the school bus that would take your and your fellow class members to Oscorp. But something told you to stop, told you to turn back and do something, anything. An ache in your chest, your pulse pulsating in your ears. Am I going to regret this? Regret doing nothing when I should do something? Your breath rattles in your chest as you freeze and turn back on your heels. You march though the locker-lined hallway and back to the scene which was still unfolding. But still, you didn't quite have the courage to look Flash in the eyes as he turned his intimidating attention your way. But you stood strong and glowered at him, your fists curling into tight balls going white at the knuckles.

"Leave him alone!" You shouted weakly in your sternest voice you could possibly muster. Flash came to a standstill and look directly into your eyes. Your heart quickened its pace, the palms of your hands becoming clammy with nervous sweat. You couldn't bare it, you had to look away from him. "Please..." This time much quieter as you dug your nails into your blazer tense with anxiety. You cursed under your breath.

"I think you should get out of here." He declared looking away from you and keeping his gaze on Peter who struggled ever so slightly. Peter Parker wasn't so much of a fighter and neither were you, not when it came to big bullies like Flash. His tall build and strong frame towered over you, but you kept your stance. Out of fear or a sudden courage? You don't think you'll ever know. But one thing you knew for sure was that the only reason why you remained here was because all you ever wanted to do was help others. Mostly the reason for why you wanted to become a paramedic the moment you left school. A future full of helping those in need, being there if someone just needs to talk, racing down the highway in an ambulance to save a life. Not just a boring desk job, but one where you could truly make a difference.

"No Flash." You finally replied with a newfound confidence. "I think you should get out of here." He stayed silent which terrified you before he started howling with laughter right in your face. You could feel his hot and stinky breath clinging to your skin, overwhelming you with the feeling of disgust.

"What are you gonna do?" He mocked. "Punch me?" Don't tempt me. You cocked my head and smiled politely trying to ignore the sudden overwhelming urge. "Hah, I'd like to see you try!" Damn, he just had to say that. You turned slowly away from him before swinging quickly around and throwing an almost deadly punch. Your fist connected with his pale face causing him to stumble backwards. He held his hand up to his lip in disbelief and stared at the trickle of blood he had smeared over his fingertips. "Ah..." He flinched. "You shouldn't have done that (L/N)." He addressed you by your last name surprised that he even knew it. "You'll pay for this." He began backing away from you slowly. "You'll pay!" He spun on his heels and rounded the corner with a slight jog but not before his fixed stare met yours. "You'll pay." You heard his voice echoing faintly in the distance. Suddenly, you let out the air from your lungs, you hadn't even realised you were holding your breath and obviously the adrenaline was beginning to wear off as a surge of searing pain became one with your fist which was probably going to be bruised tomorrow. The scuffling of shoes distracts you, and your attention turns to the teenager beside you.

"Thanks..." Peter's soft voice is quiet and somewhat apologetic.

"If anything, say thanks to the fist." You laugh awkwardly as you place a hand on the back of your head realising the grave mistake of word choice you had just made. "Uh, I mean...I-I'm not so good with words." You stumble helplessly over the sentence. Way to go for first impressions (Y/N). Your teeth grit together as you wish you could restart this conversation. Expecting the laugh of mockery of your failure...but it never comes, instead you look up to see Peter adjusting his glasses and smiling at you. His other hand is outstretched as if ready to shake hands. You take it timidly and shake it.

"I'm (Y/N) by the way."

"Peter."

"Yes, I know who you are...I mean..." Oh god."Ah, that was meant to be a handshake was it?"

"Yes." He chuckles before his facial expression returns to neutral. His big brown eyes staring into yours, he was much taller now that the two of you were face to face. "Are you uh?" He nods down to the handshake which is still going.

"Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry, my bad." You retract your hand and let it fall limply to your side. You rock back and forth on your heels uncertainly. "I um...I betta get going." You slowly back away from him and smile warmly at him. He pushed his thick brimmed glasses up further on the bridge of his nose. "See you around Peter." You gave him a small wave to which he returned, and you hastily fled the cold corridor. Once you knew you were away from Peter's sight and hearing you pressed your back firmly against the wall and let out a long and drawn sigh. I can't believe I just did that, I just punched Flash in the face. You starred down at your hands in excited disbelief stretching your sore hand. Probably gonna regret doing that. But worry about that later...school trip first!