Am I Peter Parker?

Chapter: Your Tears Part 2

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I found myself somehow out of town. My cobwebs were no longer coming out and neither were my tears. Peter's death left me affected to a mentally unstable level. I had lost my best friend, confidant, and the only person who understood what it meant to carry on a fight for others.

Every moment, guilt and pain consumed me. Peter had always been a beacon of hope and kindness, and without him, I felt adrift. I wandered the lonely streets of the suburbs, trying to find meaning in a world that seemed darker and more hostile without his presence.

In the evening, as I walked aimlessly, I found an old abandoned park. I sat on a rusty swing and let the weight of my sadness sink me. Memories of our childhoods together, times at school, his teachings in science, his encouraging words and silly jokes, flooded my mind.

"What would you do in my place, Peter?" I whispered into the wind, waiting in vain for an answer. I knew I couldn't go on like this. Peter would never have wanted me to give up. I needed to find a way to move on, to honor his legacy.

Suddenly, a noise behind me broke the silence. I stood up quickly, my senses still alert despite my emotional state. A man, hooded and with an athletic build, was slowly approaching. With a warning ringing in my head, I dodged the shot and rolled on the ground, landing in a defensive position. The hooded man advanced, his footsteps echoing in the empty park.

I quickly approached, tumbling and dodging all his shots. Finally, I disarmed him with a blow to the chest, sending his gun flying. The man staggered, surprised by my skill.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice steady despite the inner turmoil.

"Just a messenger," the man replied with a crooked smile. "There are those who are interested in you."

Before I could ask further, the man threw a smoke bomb, disappearing into the thick fog. I stood there, heart pounding, and realized that this was just the beginning. There were people who were willing to stand against me. But now, more than ever, I was determined to move forward.

"Peter had left a legacy, and I had a responsibility to honor it. I remembered his words: "I-I just wanted to be special like your Gwen." I couldn't let his sacrifice go in vain.

From that moment on, I dedicated myself to stopping suburban criminals while I made my way home. I found an old warehouse to rest in before returning by shooting my webs.

The screens of the neon city showed the images of Spider-Woman, accused of the attack on Midtown. The news given by J.J. Jameson resonated everywhere, sowing doubt and distrust in the minds of the citizens.

My movements became more careful; I knew that every action could be misinterpreted and used against me.

Jameson, with his authoritative voice and sensational tone, narrated the events in a way that made me seem like a threat.

"The dangerous vigilante, known as Spider-Woman, was seen at the scene of the attack! Is she the real culprit? Can we trust these so-called heroes?" His voice echoed through the streets, each word a blow to my reputation.

I felt a mix of frustration and sadness. Everything I had done so far seemed to be crumbling under a campaign of misinformation. But I couldn't let myself be defeated by lies and media manipulation. I knew that the truth always comes to light, and it was my duty to continue protecting the innocent, no matter the obstacles.

Returning to the streets, I heard a woman's cries for help in a dark alley. Without a second thought, I headed toward the sound, knowing it was my duty to intervene. Upon arriving, I saw two men attacking a young woman. My body moved on instinct, launching myself toward them and taking them down with a precision that only practice and pain could forge.

The young woman looked at me with gratitude and surprise. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"I am the one and only Spider-Woman," I replied, helping her to her feet. "And I'll be here to protect you."

As he disappeared into the night, I felt stronger and more determined. Peter had started something big, and now it was my turn to continue his legacy. I wasn't alone; his spirit lived on in every act of bravery and compassion. With every person I saved, I honored his memory and moved forward into a future where his sacrifice would not be forgotten.

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I remember those summer days like they were yesterday. The sun shone brightly, warming the green grass in the park where we used to play. I was five years old, and my best friend, Peter, was the same age. He always wore big glasses that slid down his nose whenever he laughed, and his brown hair would blow in the wind.

He and I were inseparable. We would spend hours making up games and adventures, running around the park and climbing trees. I remember how we used to find the tallest tree and sit on its branches, imagining we were explorers in an unknown jungle. Pete always had the best ideas. His mind was full of stories and imaginary worlds that I loved to escape to.

One day, we decided to build a secret cabin. We found a corner of the park that looked perfect, hidden among the bushes. With some branches and leaves, we started building our little shelter. Peter, with his usual ingenuity, found a way to make a door out of a swinging branch. I remember how his eyes sparkled behind his glasses as he proudly showed me our accomplishment.

When the cabin was finished, we huddled inside, laughing and sharing secrets. Lucas told me he wanted to be a scientist when he grew up, to invent things that would make the world a better place. I told him I wanted to be a writer, so I could tell all the stories we lived together. We promised each other that we would always be friends, no matter what happened.

Sometimes, when the sun began to set and the park filled with golden lights, we would sit in our cabin, just enjoying the moment. We would talk about everything, from the bugs we found in the grass to the biggest dreams we had. In those moments, I felt like the world was huge and full of possibilities, and that with him by my side, anything was possible.

One afternoon, while we were playing catch, one of Pete's glasses fell and broke. He froze, a mix of surprise and sadness on his face. Without hesitation, I walked over and gave him a big hug, promising him that everything would be okay.

That night, I walked Peter home, and his parents bought him some new glasses. The next day, we were back at the park, as if nothing had happened.

Over time, our lives changed. We grew older, and eventually, our families were torn apart by the loss of family members. But every time I think of those summers, the memory of Peter makes me smile. I can still see him clearly, with his messy brown hair and big glasses, running around the park and laughing as if the world was our playground.

Now, when I sit down to reminisce about old stories, I often find myself going back to those days, to our secret cabin, and to the promises we made. Even though he and I are no longer together, I know that the memories of our friendship will always be with me, like a treasure hidden in the most precious corner of my heart...