Spider Woman: Origin

Spider-Woman: Inkling

My eyes fluttered open. I gazed ahead at the window, the blinds partly open with nothing but darkness beyond. I lay there for some time motionless until signs of dawn peered through the blinds. I waited with the hope sleep would find me again. Instead, I lay in the emptiness I felt within and the silence that had befallen my house.

It didn't feel that long ago when my sister would creep into my room in the early mornings. The air would be filled with our hushed laughter until the scent of breakfast wafted into my room before dad's voice echoed off the walls with the demand that we come down to eat. I waited within the silence to hear his voice again, to smell the food he conjured up for us in the early mornings. I waited to hear my mother and father's voices drifting up the stairs. However, it never came. I watched as the orange hue of dawn turned into signs of midday and quickly to dusk. Sometime after, sleep found me and took me into the depths of what felt like peace.

It only lasted moments until I was awake again, gazing at the same window with the sun's rays creeping through.

I forced myself into a sitting position while my stomach's emptiness caused an ache against my ribs. The fullness of my bladder drove me out of my bedroom. I quickly pried the door open and was immediately greeted by the smell of bacon. My stomach grumbled. I crossed the hall and made a right into the open doorway. In one swift motion, I flicked the light on, shut the door and sat on the cold, porcelain seat to relieve myself. A sigh sounded from me. I sat up to flush and gazed at myself in the mirror. Tired eyes stared back at me. I grew bewildered at the girl in the mirror who hadn't aged in the five years that went by, but held a plethora of emotions behind her eyes.

I exited the bathroom and descended the stairs. The smell of bacon grew stronger with each step. My stomach ached. The tile floor following the carpeted steps was cool to the touch and I immediately regretted coming down barefoot. My hunger led me forward and through the narrow hallway leading into the kitchen. Jordyn and mom's hushed voices silenced as I entered the room. They stopped in their movements to gaze upon me, their expressions a mix between shock and relief.

"She lives," Jordyn quipped.

I ignored her comment and looked to find a plate of bacon resting along the counter beside the stove, and on it, were eggs being prepared. The sizzles filled the otherwise quiet room. Jordyn took hold of a spatula to begin turning the eggs in the pan to get all sides evenly cooked.

"Will you be joining us for breakfast?" Mom inquired. I looked to find a hopeful gleam in her eyes as she awaited my response. I nodded my head and immediately was passed a set of plates. "Sit these on the table, will you?"

I suddenly felt the desire to return to bed, but the emptiness in my stomach made me oblige my mother. I turned and faced the narrow entry leading to the dining room. On my way there, I eyed my father's obituary on the fridge. I attempted to suppress the feelings that came with it but found myself tumbling within myself and the bed of emotions that lay there. I placed an imaginary cap over them and gently set down the plates on the table where the placemats lay.

The head of the table remained empty. I thought of the most recent memory I had of when this table was full, when the house filled with our laughter and the clatter of our dinnerware as we ate a meal together as a family. The deep baritone voice that belonged to my father provided warmth in the coldest times and scorning in others. My chest ached, it dawning on me that I'd never hear his voice and that he'd never fill that space at the table again.

"Jess?"

I tore my eyes away from the vacant chair there to find Jordyn standing at the entryway with two plates in hand full of eggs and bacon. "How you doing?" She asked, placing the plates down in the middle of the table.

I watched her slow, careful movements. "As you'd expect one to be after learning her father was murdered-"

"Orange or apple juice, girls?" Mother called from the kitchen. The airy, lightness in her voice told me she hadn't heard.

"Apple," we answered in unison while glaring at each other. She began shuffling in the kitchen and the sound of glasses clinking together filled the quiet space between us.

The tension was almost palpable. Jordyn had provided me with her reasoning, yet, I couldn't ignore the anger that continued to burn inside of me. This was something I couldn't understand. At least, not yet.

"How long are you going to stay mad at me?"

I scoffed at that. "I didn't realize I could put an expiration date on my emotions."

Her eyes softened. "That's not what I meant."

"You can add it to the list of s**t that I don't understand."

Jordyn leaned in towards the table. "You can make me feel guilty for it all you like, for however long it takes, but draw the line there." My eyes narrowed a fraction at her words that sounded from her in a flurry. I wondered what she was getting at. "Don't make mom feel guilty for it, too," she added in a hushed voice.

My mouth parted open in preparation to speak. It shut closed as quiet footsteps neared and mom entered the room with three drinks in hand. She placed them all on the table and then in their respective places against the placemats. She looked up and light brown eyes searched our own. "Well, let's eat."

Nothing more was said. I peered intently at my mother and sister while they pulled their chairs from the table and sat upon them. I followed shortly behind and did the same.

Mom took the metal tongs to add some bacon to her plate while Jordyn began helping herself to the eggs.

"I've sent your immunization records to the school. They said the earliest you can start is Tuesday," mother said as her and Jordyn swapped plates.

I'd been so busy eyeing the food that the words she spoke nearly didn't register. My brow rose in curiosity. The plate of bacon was pushed in my direction and when I hesitated to take it is when mom finally glanced up to meet my gaze. She noticed the confusion on my face.

"What do you mean?" I inquired.

Jordyn took her cup and placed it to her lips.

"School, is what I mean." Her attention returned to the food on the plate, as if that had been the end of the discussion; as if I was entirely aware of the school situation. My lips parted open in preparation to speak until I heard glass clatter against the wooden table.

"I told mom you were going to M-Town."

Jordyn's glass was now empty. She gently drummed her fingers against the surface of the table. She peered at me through her lashes. I sat within the information for a moment, realization dawning on me of attending a new school. I would have to navigate through the unknown, the changes, the newness of it all. My heart sunk at the same anxiety clattered my bones. I placed my free hand to my forehead.

"Was that not the plan?" Mom asked in the silence, glancing between Jordyn and I.

"This plan is news to me."

"Honestly, I'm-"

I sunk into myself with the rapid beating of my heart drowning out sounds that could be heard within the room. I glanced quickly at the empty seat at the table before reaching for the cup of apple juice that sat untouched on my placemat. The glass was cold to the touch. I wrapped my hand around the porcelain dinnerware and watched as it shattered. I stared dumbfoundedly at the broken pieces now resting against the table. I returned to the happenings in the room and immediately it erupted into noise. The wooden legs of the seats scraped against the floorboards as the women at the table pushed their chairs back to stand.

"God damnit, Jess," mom turned to Jordyn, "Jo, go get the medkit."

"I barely even..." my words trailed off to barely a whisper, knowing my words would fall to deaf ears. Despite me not applying much pressure, the glass shattered beneath my touch. I replayed the events that lead to the glass breaking and considered the possibility of me applying too much pressure, or the cup already having a c***k within it and it gave in to my touch. All reasonable explanations and far more believable than me hardly touching the glass at all.

Jordyn's retreating footsteps reached my ears. I suddenly wondered of the necessity of grabbing the medkit. I looked to my hand still resting against the table and was surprised to find glass embedded in my skin with blood exiting open scratches against my palm. My body went rigid at the sight and the dulling pain that began to be emitted from the injury.

"Let me take a look." Mom circled around the table to my side and sat beside me. With a gentle touch, she pulled my arm in her direction. She looked at my hand in silence and I gazed at the deep red liquid that gathered in my palm. "Had I known you were this much against transferring, I wouldn't have done it."

I sighed. "It's not like that, I just- the idea of starting over scares me."

"This school or your old one, you would still be starting over. You may not have aged a day but the world kept spinning for five years, Jess. Jordyn and I aren't the same as you left, and neither would your old school be. At least with M-Town, there are people that you know."

I cursed myself for not considering that. In my mind, I suppose I expected things to be just as I had left them. What felt like a blink to me was five years here. I tore my eyes away from my hand and looked to my mother. The last five years shown on her features. Her once vibrant, dewy brown skin was now __ with tired eyes to match. Her coily, black hair was now riddled with greys.

"How do you do it?" I wondered aloud.

She hummed her confusion in response to my question.

"How do you go about each day without him?"

Mom released a sigh. "I didn't think I'd be able to, at first," she paused and met my gaze. "There is no one size fits all when it comes to mourning a loved one. You process it however you feel you need to and take it one day at a time. Always, one day at a time. I spent a better part of those first few months angry. Angry at him for leaving us and the world for taking him away."

Tears lined my eyes at her words. "And does it ever stop? The angry feeling?"

"It does. What's important is what we do with that anger and how we express it. We do not let it consume us."

I sniffled while searching her eyes for any semblance of that anger she spoke of. Instead, found worry in her eyes. Mom's attention went back to that of my hand while my gaze didn't falter. I was confused as to how that anger could be snuffed away. Our father died by someone's hands. Returning to my life as it was didn't seem plausible while those at fault continued to live normally.

Jordyn returned with the medkit and quickly slid it over to mom on the table within reaching distance. The items inside clattered as she searched through its contents and pulled the necessary items out while doing so. I tensed again as her attention returned to my hand and at the pain I knew was to come. She paused in her movements and looked to me. "I'm going to take the glass out."

I nodded and with my free hand, clutched my wrist. I gritted my teeth at the onslaught of pain that came from her removing the glass. It clattered to the table. Mom quickly began to blot out the blood against my hand. The wounds were more easily seen now.

"Open it," Mom instructed, motioning towards Jordyn and the deep brown bottle on the table. I recognized it immediately.

"Oh, fuck."

"Language," she warned.

The desperate need to flee overwhelmed me, however, I remained glued to the chair. I watched in tantilizing agony as the lid was removed from the hydrogen peroxide bottle. A cotton swab was dampened by its contents before it arrived in mom's hand. She peered at me through her lashes. "I'll count to three. One, three."

She quickly connected the cotton swab to my hand. A flurry of curses flew from my mouth at the onslaught of pain. It felt as if my hand was struck by a lit flame and then cast in a pool of acid. The pain slowly dissipated to nothing. My mom then wrapped it in a white bandage. Once she released my hand, I attempted to curl my fingers over my palm.

"Thank you," I said.

"Let's get back to our breakfast, shall we?" Without waiting for our responses, mom slid the chair back and rose to make her way back to where she previously sat. She wasted no time in returning to her plate of food. I looked down at my own and absentmindedly pushed eggs around. Jordyn stood nearby and placed the items that were strewn about back into the medkit. She silently maneuvered to her seat and began to eat.

Silence enveloped the room aside from the soft cluttering sounds of the silverware coming into contact with the plates. I shoved forkfuls of eggs into my mouth. It felt like a chore more than anything, but the aching in my stomach pushed me to continue until the plate was empty. By that time, mom and Jordyn had risen from their seats and cleared the table with their things.

I sat there for a moment, gazing at the bandage on my hand before rising with my plate and silverware. I made my way to the kitchen and found Jordyn standing idly by. Mom returned spices to the cabinet. I placed my dinnerware into the sink with the others and peered ahead through my eyelashes at the window leading into the backyard. It was small and riddled with dead vegetation. The covered outdoor furniture remained and covered in plastic. It looked untouched and just as I remembered it before everything happened.

"You two got the kitchen. I'm going to get ready for work." Mom declared. I looked to find her retreating back until she disappeared out of my line of vision.

Silence filled the space between Jordyn and I. My attention returned to the window.

"I wash, you rinse and dry?" Jordyn offered. She moved to stand beside me. I shrugged my shoulders in response. My sister turned on the faucet and waited for the water to warm. She placed her hand under the running water.

We moved in silence for some time. Jordyn carefully rinsed the dirty items before arranging them out of the sink. She filled her side with water and soap and began washing a cup. She handed me the object riddled with bubbles. I took it into my hand and began rinsing it before placing it onto the drying rack.

"Thanks for not mentioning anything to mom," she said in a low tone. There was a hesitancy to her voice, as if she was afraid to speak the words. I almost wished she was.

"I didn't do it for you."

"I know."

Nothing else was said. I kept my eyes low and waited expectantly with my hands in the sink for dishes to rinse. We repeated the motions for some time until there were no remaining dishes left. I dried my hands while Jordyn released the water and scrubbed at both sides of the sink. I walked the short distance to the living room and sat upon the couch there. My mind returned to the scene where it was just the three of us laughing and crying at memories of father, our family, and what it had been before. I couldn't pinpoint how many days passed since then.

To escape the churning thoughts in my mind, I grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. I flipped through channels for some time, disinterested in the shows that went by until that of a familiar name appeared in a headline at the bottom of the screen. My heart skitted and I tuned into the audio.

"Gang activity has increased by fifteen percent since the start of the year and. The city is one of many that has been hit hardest following the aftermath of what people are referring to as 'the blip.' Phillipa Wilson, a small time beauty store salon manager speaks of the crime and unsafe situations in which she has to live in.

'I live in fear. I fear for the safety of my children, my life. I didn't take the warnings of others seriously until my shop got hit. The Wits [camera pans to the store with busted windows] took merchandise. Merchandise, when paid for by honest citizens, would have been used to pay for my household's necessities, the food I feed my kids and the electricity to keep them warm and bathed. They are messing with people livelihoods and must be stopped."

Phillipa Wilson is one victim of many. The Wits have increased their activity in recent weeks, from violent crime, to small breakins. We spoke to Mayor Margaret briefly and her plans to address the issue. A Town Hall Meeting has been scheduled for next week where plans will be discussed. It will be televised and the people are welcome to attend. In the meantime local law enforcement are working diligently to put an end to the gang and their crime. Local law enforcement urge caution. Now to Antonio for the weather."

The name remained in my head like it had been sketched there. I felt it again - the anger. The fury. And I wondered if the person or persons behind my father's death continued on living, carrying on when mine felt as if it was at a stand still. 5 years. Five f*****g years.

"Jess?"

I blinked and noticed the black screen now staring back at me. I looked to find Jordyn standing over me with the remote in hand. Her eyes searched my own and I wondered what she would find there. Anger? Frustration? Sadness? I felt a culmination of all those emotions bubbling within me. They were the cause of the tears lining my vision and the lump that formed in my throat. It all turned to anguish as the tears were more free flowing now. I rubbed small circles against the bandage on my hand and expected to feel tenderness there, except, there was nothing.

Gentle hands touched me and enveloped me in a hug. I wanted to recoil and move away. Instead, I pulled her closer until my head rested on her shoulder. She said nothing in those moments. And I think she knew that is just what I needed - to process and to feel.

"I-I'm sorry," I said in between ragged breaths reluctantly. I'd been angry with her. While I knew I had every right to be, I wanted to direct that anger elsewhere- at the true cause of my pain. The true cause of why my father was no longer with us.

Jordyn pulled me away suddenly. Her hands cupped my cheeks and with her thumbs, she wiped the tears there. "For what? You have nothing to be sorry for." A sad smile tugged at her lips. She removed her hands. "I fully deserved it. I should have told you."

"It was..." I paused, searching for the word to describe how I felt, "embarrassing in a way to find out through your friend... Dane?"

"Dennis."

I shrugged with a bitter taste in my mouth at the thought of him. I could give a s**t what his name actually was. "He really threw that in my face."

"I'll never forgive him for that. Let's make a promise," she offered. I waited expectantly for her to share what she had in mind.

"Let's promise to not keep secrets from each other from here on out?" Jordyn pulled her pinky out and I gazed at it for a moment, feigning as if I was considering her words. Her eyebrow rose before a small smile spread to her lips and then I wrapped my pinky around hers.

I felt lighter in that moment. A weight, however small, was lifted off my shoulders. The hollowness within me had been filled to a degree but I worried those moments were fleeting. If I thought too long I knew those emotions would snag and envelope me once again. Those dark depths of me waited expectantly.

"How would you feel about going axe throwing?"

I pulled my pinky from hers and laid my hands in my lap. "Axe throwing?" It sounded intriguing and maybe a little more fun than laying in bed watching the days pass by.

"We get thirty minutes to just throw an axe at a target on a wall," she explained while making the motions with her hands.

"Are you trying to convince me to go axe throwing? Because you had me at axe."

She laughed. "Be ready in an hour?"

We were in agreement. She gave me one last hopeful smile before pushing herself off the couch and trailing upstairs. I remained on the couch and welcomed the silence. I took a shuddering breath before gently caressing my arms with my hands. I felt the texture of the bandaid while doing so and curiosity pushed the action that came next.

I put my hands before me and began to remove the bandage. I expected to see remnants of the injuries I sustained from the broken glass. Instead,

my hand was completely healed.