In a panic, I heaved myself through the bedroom window of my apartment. Maroon blood stained my hands and turned my white windowsill a deep red. I collapsed onto the floor, chest heaving and nerves ablaze.

Horrible thoughts raced through my head. What if they followed me home? What if they find out who my family is? What if they already have their sights on them?

Salty tears ran down my face as I lay there, despair writhing painfully in my stomach.

No. There has to be something I can do.

I forced myself onto my feet and gripped my bedside table for support as I peeled the wet suit from my body. I winced as the material peeled away from a wound on my side, encouraging more blood to seep out.

“Shit…” I hissed under my breath as I rolled up my spider-suit into a ball and promptly threw it under my bed. That can wait for later.

I stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed some bandages, rubbing alcohol and plasters before entering the bathroom. No time for a shower, I thought.

I stood in the mirror and painstakingly cleaned my wounds, each nerve screaming out in pain as the rubbing alcohol came into contact with the exposed tissue. I then applied the bandages and prayed that I didn’t get an infection, that would be severely inconvenient.

And that’s when I heard the door handle turn from down the hall.

Shit. Mom’s home.

I panicked and stuffed all of the medical equipment under the sink and snatched a clean shirt off the radiator, pulling it over my head in a panic.

“Honey, I’m home!” Her sing-song voice called from the hallway.

“Y-yeah-!” I stuttered out a response as I tried to clean the sink of blood.

“Are you okay?” I could hear her footsteps approaching the bathroom.

“Uhm- yeah I’m fine!” I tried to sound like I wasn’t in excruciating pain.

“Okay.. well… I’ll fix you some dinner…” she replied skeptically, turning away from the door and heading to the kitchen.

I breathed a sigh of relief and composed myself. I turned the doorknob and stepped out into the hall. I made my way quietly to the kitchen, wringing my hands.

“Honey- what the hell happened to you?!” My mom exclaimed as she turned to look at me.

Shit. I forgot to wash my face.

“Oh- uhm.. I-“

“Oh my god! We need to get you to the hospital!”

“No- no! Wait! I need… I need to talk to you about something. You’re going to want to sit down for this.” I hesitantly spoke. I knew I was going to tell her someday but I didn’t exactly expect today, of all days.

“Okay… please don’t tell me it’s something bad.” Mom furrowed her brow as she ushered me into the living room to sit down.

My heart raced with fear, with anticipation. What was she going to say? How was she going to react? Anxiety burned behind my eyes and churned in my stomach as I sat down on the sofa.

“I don’t really know how to tell you this but… uhm… I’m spiderman.” I spat out the words like lemons, terrified of what my mom was going to do.

“What?!” She exclaimed, before promptly fainting over the arm of the couch.

“Mom!” I immediately jumped up and rushed to her side, thumbing her neck to find her pulse which was, surprisingly, still there.

I guess you can’t expect your mom to be calm when you tell her you’re a goddamn superhero.

Oops.