Chapter 2
Hi Mr. Stark,
Every day has been better since I’ve seen the other side. I can’t believe I got to go there, it was beautiful. I swear to you, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted it to be. It wasn’t light, like I thought it would be, but I wasn’t sent into the dark. There was no screaming, no chains or whips. It was like a breath of fresh air- the freshest air I’ve ever experienced anyways. I’ve always imagined that the other side would sound like crashing ways and that there would be trees as tall as New York buildings. The other side was welcoming, I wish I could have stayed there longer.
Lately, that’s all I can think about. Getting back to the other side, that is. I’m so tired of feeling like my energy is being drained. I’m tired of that numb feeling, I’m sure you know the one. You know when you accidentally touch a live wire and for a moment, a beautiful moment you feel it in your chest and then there’s the nothingness? Just the hum of your muscles trying to be okay? That’s one of the only things I feel these days. I’ll be alright though, I’ll always be welcomed to the other side. Today though, I’ll just need to power through what is happening to me, from my mind. The only one to blame for this is me. It’s okay, I know I could have been better, listened harder, pushed more. I’ll keep trying. I just need my head to stop pounding, it feels like I’ve slammed it against a cement wall. One day I’ll get to the other side, I know I will. I just need to fight myself first.
Perhaps fighting myself is the only way. My mind must be playing tricks on me even now. Some day’s I feel like I could even hear Ben talking just down the hall. I must be going insane. It’s the guilt, of course. The guilt of my parents dying, the guilt of killing Ben. I wish I could hug my mother, but that has to be all in my head. It could never happen, me and my parents, I should stop holding out on this fantasy, I am the reason why they are dead. Why do I keep putting myself through everything again?
Maybe when I see you again, some day far from now we can have iced tea. That’s a refreshing drink, isn’t it? I’ve always enjoyed it, but I know you prefer your ice crushed when it’s in your drinks. I think you’re wrong Mr. Stark. Big iced cubes all the way. I like to pretend the Ice is islands in the sea. The little bubbles, the air trapped from the cubes would be whales surfacing for air, wondering what else there is other than the sea. We can have iced tea, Mr. Stark, someday on the other side.
Even still, I don’t know how soon that will be. There is so much I have to do. Everything I’ve done has only hurt everyone more. Mr. Stark, I don’t think I’ve been very good. Not to myself, and not to others. Why should I see the other side again? Why do I keep imagining everything that’s good. I’ve only known pain, it’s the only thing I know how to cause. I torment myself in my head. I hear the voices of too many dead. This will be my undoing. I can only hope I’ll see you and May again. I hope this isn’t too late. I’ll often scream into the night, it the only way for me to silence what’s happening inside. But don’t worry Mr. Stark. I’ll be okay. This was all because of me, wasn’t it? I can get by just fine, this isn’t your fault. One day I’ll need your help again, I’ll need you to hold my hand after things are fuzzy again when I can barely breath. I’ll be okay, I just need to get to the other side.
Please keep my memories alive,
Peter Parker.