Peter was the prime example of the perfect student, a beacon of light despite the hardships he’d faced that included losing his parents as well as his Uncle Ben years later. He was top of his class, always on the honor roll and on every activity the school had to offer. He was always so genuinely excited about school, going there every day and learning something new, being surrounded by the people who shared that same interest. He played a wide array of instruments, sang (almost always off-key) in the choir, was on the decathlon team and was the first one to sign up for the school science fair every year. He was well liked, it was kind of hard not to like Peter Parker - he was a light that shone even in the darkest of times.
At least, that’s how it used to be. Around his junior year, Peter began to lose the light that once was a staple in his life. It was small things that no one really picked up on, a few late homework assignments and missed band practices, he was doing a lot, so that was understandable. He couldn’t explain it, a feeling that something wasn’t right. He would see flashes of a blazing orange sky, suddenly he would feel a lot warmer with a sense of dread to go right along with it. He shrugged it off the first few times, maybe he just wasn’t getting enough sleep. Peter was involved in everything he possibly could be, it would only make sense for him to eventually start seeing things once his lack of sleep had caught up to him. He would tell a few people of these ‘visions’ he saw, but played them off as a joke. It was almost like some painting that was etched into his brain.
What he had once written off as a lack of sleep had turned out to be something he wasn’t able to wrap his head around. The flashes were becoming more vivid, he was seeing faces that he had never seen before and even worse: he was seeing faces he did know. They would come to him like nightmares, pained expressions etched onto their faces that seemed to be burned into his mind. He would wake up with a scream, soon realizing that it was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real but why did it feel so real?
From there, Peter barely slept and his once pristine life was falling through the cracks. He was forgetting to study for major tests, falling asleep in all of his classes before he was jolted away by the damn orange sky. It was terrifying and he couldn’t figure it out, none of it made sense. Was he losing his mind? He felt like he was going crazy, he was seeing a monster in his dream that felt so real. He saw people that he was surrounded by in his mind, imagining a different personality for them even if he had never actually upheld a conversation with them. It felt so lifelike, to the point where he felt like he knew them, that they had been friends in a past life and some were even parental figures to them. But they had no idea who he was, none of them did.
Soon enough, his grades had began to slip as well, which raised major red flags to his peers. Everyone asked him what was wrong and he couldn’t explain it because he didn’t know. How lame would it be if he had said he was having nightmares? He was going to have to face this, he didn’t need to drag other people into it. It was something that was better said than done, however. His nightmares turned into what could happen to the people around him, people like Aunt May. The world was in shambles, she was worried sick and he could have put her in danger! He could have put everyone in danger. What were you thinking Peter?
He was awoken with a jolt, a silent scream that he couldn’t get out. This was going to hurt Aunt May, he was sure of it. Whatever force that was living inside his head, it was going to get her too and he couldn’t let that happen. Whatever this was, he was going to have to face it on his own. He was already failing school, he had dropped out of all his activities and people seemed to be doing fine without him in it. He had to run away to keep May safe, that was his next plan of action. It was going to work, he was sure of it. He packed up a bag with a some clothes and some spare money he had made from helping out around town and science fairs, hoping that would be enough to get him started. The final thing was to write out a letter to May, hoping that she would understand why he had to go:
I love you, I’m sorry. Please don’t come looking for me, this is for the best. - Peter.
With a tear or two landing on the small piece of paper, Peter carefully made his bed and set the note on top of the pillow. He carefully snuck out his window, nothing to his name but a handful of twenties and backpack with a few outfits. This is for the best, this is for the best, this is for the best, he kept telling himself. Maybe now the visions will go away, they have to go away right? They did, for a short while. He felt like he could finally be at peace, even if that meant he was homeless.
He should have known that was too good to be true, however. After a few weeks, his visions had come back with a vengeance but instead of showing the people he loved, they made an even more unsettling image in Peter’s head. He had began to see his own deaths (and near deaths) At first, he was stuck in an abandoned warehouse, he couldn’t quite tell who was in front of him. It was like a man in what seemed to be a bird suit, taunting him and before he knew it he was being crushed. He felt thousands of pounds holding him down, he couldn’t breathe. Everything was caving in on him and he was sure this was going to be the end for him. Come on Spider-Man, Come on Spider-Man! He heard a voice say, was that his own? He couldn’t even tell. But then he was shaken awake and was back into reality. Strange.
Not too long after, he got another vivid memory of a near death experience. There was an alien, right in front of him, taunting him, trying to kill him. The blazing orange sky was back again and he was in New York, but it wasn’t really New York, strangely enough. Soon enough, he had outsmarted the alien only to be thrown across the park and got knocked out. He was dying, maybe even for real that time. He saw a man that he could have swore was from space, that felt familiar to him, maybe not like he had known them forever but that he still knew of him.
But then everything went white and instead of laying out on the grass, he was standing up on a planet with another orange hue to it. There was another sense of dread that filled the air, they had lost, but what had they lost? Was it someone? Something? Before he could try to figure it out, people were beginning to turn to ash right before his eyes. They were fading away in a line, and the closer they had gotten to him he felt a pain all around, he was burning. What was going on? Where were they going why did everything hurt? He was panicking and then he turned his head to look at someone who held a very important place in his life, a father figure to him. But there was a sadness in him among the pain, he could feel himself fading away like the other had but it wasn’t happening quite as fast. Why wasn’t it happening? “Please!” he heard himself begging, clinging to the man in front of him as tears filled his eyes. “I don’t want to go, please!” he was crying out and why wasn’t anyone stopping it?
Right before the dream was over, Peter had woken up to a start but he still felt everything. He was still ashing away, he had to fix it. He scrambled to get into his bag, watching his appendages turn to dust before his eyes, he couldn’t breathe as he finally found some bandages and began to wrap his arms up until he was sure they wouldn’t be turning to ash once again. He was shaking, he was crying and curled up around himself. What was wrong with him?
