“Bandages, I need more bandages.” Someone says to themself. There was no way Spiderman just walked into my apartment and knocked my father out.
“You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay.” He tells me clearly unconvinced of his words. “I said get back!” The voice yells before one last thud echos through the apartment. “It’s not Halloween.” My father replies, heading back towards me one final time. I am sent flying back down to the ground after the bottle knocks me hard in the back of my head. I uncurl from my ball on the floor and push myself off the floor with all my might before being stricken with a beer bottle. Momentarily, the kicks stop and the pain begins to throb, signaling he had left and I could open my eyes. Before I can pick myself up, pain shoots up and down my midsection as he lands kick after kick on me. You’re a mistake.” His grip loosens and I plummet to the ground, landing on my butt. I don’t get shit in return.” He spits at me. “You come here, live for free, sleep for free, eat for free. “Sorry don’t mean shit.” Suddenly, he grabs onto my neck and pulls me into the air, dangling me about two inches above the ground and effectively cutting off my airway. “The fuck am I supposed to do with sorry?” He screams at me. “Thought I told you not to come back until you were ready to do as I told you.” “Y/n!” My father yells, swinging my door open. Just as I calm my nerves, my cell phone goes off. Slowly, I lean back on my bed and begin to rest my eyes from the day. I sneak past him and into my own room, carefully lying my things down in order not to wake up. As I peek my head in through the door, I see his body slumped over on the couch in a dead sleep. Quietly, I push open the door to my own apartment, checking to see if my father is home. “See you there.” Peter smiles before heading in. “See you in fifteen for homework session?” I inquire. “This is where we part ways,” He says as he pulls the key to his apartment out. Peter follows me up the stairs, letting me go first like the gentlemen he always is. “Nonetheless, your mad skills never seize to amaze me,” Peter kids as we approach our apartment building, wiping the soles our shoes and walking inside. “Also, it’s a highly predictable demographic of kids.” “Did you transfer or something and I just don’t know? How do you know about everyone in that school owning Ray Ban’s and a too - tight v-neck sweater?” “That is so accurate,” Peter complies with my joke. “I’m guessing somewhere in between pep and prep with an almost lethal dose of square - rimmed Ray Ban’s.” “I’ll try harder to spread my pyrotechnic tendencies your way,” Peter jokes. “No one is using the chem lab as their own anymore and the only fires come from preventable mistakes. “So, how’s Forest Hills High without me?” Peter questions. “There’s no way.” Peter and I begin to descend down the platform stairway, our shoulders touching the entire time, as our warm breath floats up and over our heads in the cold air. “Me? Embarrassing?” He asks in humorous disbelief. “My favorite smile of the day.” Peter tells me, causing me to blush. However, I now have access to an unlimited amount of nerd jokes at Peter’s expense. Being apartment neighbors with him is great, although I miss him since he transferred to Midtown Tech. Hopping off the train, my eyes meet with Peter’s who waits for me here everyday so we can finish our walks home together. The train slowed as the Forest Hills stop approached, people rushing by my window on the platforms waiting to board. New York, with all eight million of its inhabitants, was lonely and bitter about it again. Christmas lights and spirits were boxed up and thrown into the closet until the next holiday season, the white snow turned brown. The subway ride home from school was always cold, especially in January.
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