Golden-Web

I’m also @captainwaffles and @art-spam-reblogs

This is my spidersona Blog! Soooo

Once you scroll past this post everything is made up unless specifically stated otherwise. This will be written in mostly first person of me telling stories for my ‘spiderman’ life cause sometimes I need to escape, this is all just for fun and what not. Hope y’all stick around. Playlist

Thank you @ask-spidermom for the amazing profile pick

Hi I’m Finely Fitzgerald, I’m a senior in New York City, and I am Golden Web, and this is my story

Not because of anything cool

I give a little nod and pull at my fingers. 

“What brings you in today? We haven’t talked in ages.” He continues.

I’m useless. I’m a failure. I can’t make friends. I’m not good enough. I hate myself.

I stare blankly at my hands. My heart beat picks up.

“Did you hear me? Connection fuz out?” His voice is soft, understanding.

I shake my head a bit. I swallow down the lump in my throat.

“I know it’s hard to talk sometimes. But if you don’t I can’t help you.”

“I know,” I stutter. My eyes gloss over. “I… I.” My hand runs through my hair scratching at my neck. “I…”

“Would you like me to throw somethings out there?” He asks. I nod. “Okay, just nod and shake your head okay?”

He shifts a bit and thinks.

“Someone has recently passed?” No. “Are you having suicidal thoughts?” Concern seeps into his voice.

Anger seems to bubble up around me. I want to close the computer. My hand runs though my hair and scratches my neck.

“Finley?” He asks again.

“Yeah, same old same old you know.” I chuckle a bit. “Hows MIT? Science and math still more complicated?”

“Oh shut up,” Cory snorts. “It’s fine, me and Miles grabbed pizza yesterday. It’s going well. We were thinking of coming back next weekend, will you be around?”

“Yup,” reliefs floods my chest. I can’t wait to see them again. “Can’t wait.”

“Sorry to cut or convo short but I got some quadratics and shit to get back too. Talk to you later okay?”

“Okay, love you sis,” I say with weak jest.

“Love you to sib.” The line goes dead. The darkness creeps in like octopus tentacles trying to find a fish.

I stare at my roommates empty bed. They moved out just last week. So far no one’s moved back in. I roll over in my bed. The blankets smother me. Images flip through my head.

“You need to reach out to people, you can’t burden your troubles alone.” Dr. Garner Says.

You’re a burden

“I’ll always be there for you Fin,” my dad says.

They’ll think your a broken freak

“You can always lean on my shoulder okay?” Cory ensures.

You’re supposed to be better

Everyone’s voice echo around and swirl into a tornado. It’s all to loud.