Awakening
Forest Hills, New York September 16, 2002.
Visions of giant spiders and arachnids flood my vision, my body tense up with the heat sizzling from it. Sweat comes and Sweat goes but my body doesn’t relent. My muscles feel like they’re being shredded and woven together all over again. A shrill piercing feeling entered my palms as if tiny stingers were drilling into it. The nightmare ends and my eyes open!
Lips dry, throat parched, nose runny. Waking up, my face felt stiff. Feet rubbing together to create friction.
“Pete.” A small frail woman’s shout came out. My ears ring out because of sensitivity.
“Pete! It’s time for school!!” The voice belonged to an old lady.
Wait a minute. I don’t know any old ladies.
My vision plunged into lightness as the next thought took place in me.
‘Where am i?’
Head perking up from the blue sheets.
“Wait a minute. This isn’t my room!!!” I yelped
I told Shreya’s friends not to party too much, guess i should have taken my own advice.
‘Dammit Vijay, what were you thinking that much shots’
Panic set in.
Okay I’ve broken into someone’s room, now I have to explain to the lady downstairs that?
‘Oh my god, I can’t wait to get this over with.’
Please don’t scream lady, I’m not a burglar, just a guy who had too much vodka.
I push myself up from the bed with a pushup.
Like how I always did ever since joining the military.
Standing up on the bed, the mattress made a squeaky sound, ‘Oh sorry, I thought this was my bed.’
Still, that’s an old bed.
On the wall there was a picture of the famous Einstein with his tongue out poster. Along with other nerdy stuff.
There was a messy desk with what seemed to be full of electrical equipment. Was that a soldering iron?
“Peter, you’re gonna be late for class.”
This time it was an older man. Wait a minute, why was he speaking English! No really where was I?
The window was open.
I had half thought about jumping out of it and not explaining how I got shitfaced and crashed into some anglo indian’s home.
Looking outside gave me quite the shock.
The road was weird. No place in India has these clean roads. Sure they were a bit dusty but no potholes seriously? This has to be some kind of dream. Cars were sparse.
The number plates didn’t start with KA, instead they were coloured orange and blue. All of this felt too real to be a dream. A cool breeze hit my bare chest, I reflexively closed the window.
I freeze.
My previous brown hands were now white.
What.
I just stood there.
Looking at my new white fingers, stretching them out like I was a baby.
The door knocked now, startling me.
“Pete are you alright……open up.”
The knocking was constant and the lady’s voice filled with worry. My breath was heavy, heart beating like crazy.
What was happening? This has to be a dream but it didn’t feel like it. It was way too realistic to be a dream and yet too bizarre to be my reality.
The polite knocks got louder and louder as each second passed!
Fear conquered me and for a second i really contemplated jumping out of the window.
‘Maybe I can figure out what’s happening later?’
*Smack*
My palms hit my face.
‘Go and apologize to the lady, You’re better than this. Take accountability for your actions!’
My Special forces training helped me remain calm even in the most tense situations.
I move forward, I don’t know what’s happening but no point in running away.
Maybe if I explain to them about my situation then perhaps they won’t call the police for intruding.
I reach for the knob and just as I was about to turn it, I see the mirror next to the door.
I saw a well built boy looking back at me.
I didn’t see Vijay Prakash.
When I first saw him…me, I almost jumped out but when I realized that i was looking at myself. A chill ran through my spine.
He…I looked young.
His torso was sweaty and hair damp.
His face was plain, nothing to sing about but his features were what can i say? Simple.
Some might even call him handsome if it weren’t for the light freckles and acne.
The black hair with the neat hairstyle suited him.
The knocking was no longer polite. All of this was too weird but instead of thinking too much about it, I should just open the door and explain.
My fingers turned the knob and just as it turned everything slowed. Then pain flowed through my body like current and with the pain came something else!
It came to me, a roll of memories rushing into my skull and into my brain.
The memories of a young boy.
Too young to remember his parents.
He could remember the comforting embrace of his aunt and the reassuring smile of his uncle.
Not young enough to forget his uncle telling him how ‘it’ll be alright’.
They explained how a plane crash took them both, he was four.
Them telling him how he’ll be moving in with them.
Remembering how he brought his favorite toys and clothes in his small briefcase.
Into this strange room.
He remembered it being bigger than it really was.
His aunt slept alongside him for the first few months because he was afraid of the dark.
Throwing a baseball to his uncle and learning to bake cookies with his aunt.
A girl with red hair wishing him a happy birthday.
‘An angel,’ the boy thought at the time.
Growing up, reading his first Readers Digest his uncle brought for him, being completely absorbed with it.
Not letting go of it for at least a week. Not until his uncle got him his first public library card.
Memories of Uncle Ben complaining about a bad back and helping aunt may with the dishes. Kids at school being mean to him but finding solace in Science and Math. Growing up and meeting his best friend Harry. Learning about the piling expenses at home, unable to help the people who saved his life.
Then the years flew by.
The frustration of not being able to ask out MJ, at not being able to stand up for himself, at being so weak and small.
Puny Parker, that’s what Flash Thompson and his posse called him. MJ was with them when they did.
Then the spider stung him in the laboratory during the visit.
For some reason this memory stood out for a particular reason.
“Peter, Lord I’ve been calling you, Peter are you all….” She couldn’t finish the sentence,
“A…….unt May?” I asked her, despite knowing exactly who she was.
‘Oh Peter honey are you alright? You’re sweating.” The elderly woman gestured to my naked chest. ‘Oh no’, before I could look for my shirt. Aunt May entered my room and began sorting through the mess on the floor.
She found my brown shirt and helped me put it on like she used to when I was kid. She had a worried look and the wrinkles didn’t help.
“I’m alright Aunt May, just under the weather. You know?” I said with the most superficial cheerful face I could conjure up. Her face remained unconvinced and full of worry,
While her hands were busy straightening my collar and rubbing my shoulder to calm me down.
I could hear the footsteps of someone heavier approaching the staircase, It was Uncle Ben.
“You alright kiddo, we were worried about you there for a second.” He said with his usual warm smile.
“I was telling Aunt May here that I was a little under the weather. I don’t think I’ll be able to go to school today. I guess it must have been something I ate on that trip yesterday.” I say in a tired voice to sell the act. They worry too much and I have to be careful to not add to their list of problems.
They looked worried but assented once I kept on guaranteeing my good health.
“Well alright kiddo, take all the rest you need. School isn’t going anywhere, Einstein. May let’s give Peter some nap time.”
She still looked concerned but agreed with Uncle Ben’s insistence.
“Gee alright then but Peter if you aren’t feeling well then-”
Uncle Ben came to my rescue, “I’m sure the boy’s alright honey, like he said it must have been something he ate.” Aunt may wouldn’t stop mothering me until uncle Ben gently escorted her out
“He’s always been a little sickly boy, I thought he was done with that…”
“I know May, I know.” Uncle Ben kept nodding along as he went out and before he closed the door, I swore I thought he winked at me. The door shut and I could hear their footsteps heading downstairs.
I fell down onto the janky mattress in disbelief, “I’m Spider-Man.