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Chapter 5: Chapter 4: Your tears.... part 2

Chapter: Your tears part 2

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I was somehow out of town. My cobwebs were no longer coming out and neither were my tears. Peter's death left me mentally unstable.

I had lost my best friend, confidant, and the only person who understood what it meant to 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. He wandered the lonely streets of the suburbs, trying to make sense of a world that seemed darker and more hostile without him.

At night, while walking aimlessly, I found an old abandoned park. I sat on a rusty swing and let the weight of my sadness weigh me down.

Memories of our childhoods together, times at school, his teachings in science, his encouraging words and his 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 continue like this.

Peter would never have wanted me to give up. She needed to find a way to move forward, 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 figure, approached slowly. With a warning jingle in my head, I dodged the shot and rolled across the ground, landing in a defensive position.

The hooded man advanced, his footsteps echoing in the empty park. I quickly approached, doing somersaults and dodging all of 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 internal turmoil.

"Just a messenger," the man replied with a crooked smile.

"There are those who are interested in you." Before he could ask more, the man released a smoke bomb, disappearing into the thick fog.

I stood there, heart pounding, and realized this was just the beginning. There were people who were willing to confront me.

But now, more than ever, she 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 be in vain. From that moment on, I dedicated myself to arresting criminals in the suburbs while returning home. I found an old warehouse to rest before returning, casting my cobwebs.

The screens of the neon city showed 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, in 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, and every word was a blow to my reputation.

I felt a mixture of frustration and sadness. Everything he had done until now seemed to be unraveled by a misinformation campaign.

But I couldn't let myself be defeated by the lies and media manipulation. I knew that the truth always comes to light, and my duty was 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 towards the sound, knowing it was my duty to intervene. When I arrived, I saw two men attacking a young woman.

My body moved on instinct, lunging at them and tackling them 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 with a trembling voice.

"I am the one and only Spider-Woman," I replied, helping her to her feet. "And I will 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. She was not alone; her spirit lived in every act of bravery and compassion. With each person she saved, she honored their memory and moved toward a future in which her sacrifice would not be forgotten.

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I remember those summer days as if they were yesterday. The sun was shining 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 he They ran down his nose every time he laughed, and his brown hair blew in the wind.

He and I were inseparable. We spent hours inventing games and adventures, running through the park and climbing trees. I remember how we used to look for the tallest tree and sit on its branches, imagining that 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 in the bushes. With some branches and leaves, we began to build 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 shone behind his glasses as he proudly showed me our achievement.

When the cabin was finished, we huddled inside, laughing and sharing secrets. Lucas told me that he wanted to be a scientist when he grew up, to invent things that would make the world a better place.

I told her that 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 was 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 that the world was immense and full of possibilities, and that with him by my side, everything was possible.

One afternoon while we were playing ball, one of Pete's glasses fell and broke. He froze, with a mixture of surprise and sadness on his face.

Without hesitation, I approached him and gave him a big hug, promising him that everything would be okay.

That night, I accompanied Peter to his house, and his parents bought him new glasses. The next day, we were back in the park, as if nothing had happened. Over time, our lives changed.

We grew older and, eventually, our families were destroyed by the loss of family members. But every time I think about 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 like the world was our playground.

Now, when I sit down to reminisce about old stories, I often find myself returning to those days, to our secret cabin, and to the promises we made.

Although 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....


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
H_ell H_ell

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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