(Y/N) woke up cold.

The room was too bright, clean and smelled like sterilizing wipes. That's one way she knew it wasn't her room.

Also, her parents were in there, looking at her with false sympathy. God, was that look ever getting old.

The nurse left them alone, muttering something about privacy. Her mother whipped around to her, glaring. "Foolish girl!" She hissed, grabbing (Y/N)'s ear. "Spider-Man found you! He knows where we live!"

"And I wonder why that is," muttered her father, whom he insisted she call 'Dad' to maintain the 'happy family' image.

"I'm... I'm sorry..." (Y/N) choked out. "He found me..."

Dad made a 'tt' doing with his mouth. "You lead him to us, (Y/N)." He began to do something he always did: he started to draw back his hand.

"No, Dad! Please, no!" She cried, tears pricking her eyes. "I'll fix this, I swear! I make him sorry he ever met you!"

Thwack.

A red mark formed on (Y/N)'s face, making her tears fall finally. She sobbed frantically, the sadness making her shoulders shake.

Her father glared down at her. "It's time for you to become what you were made for, whether you like it or not. You were created for a purpose."

A shaky nod was all (Y/N) could give without crying again.

A/N:

IT'S GOING DOWN NOW!!! Sorry for doing this to you, (Y/N). Too... many... feels...

NETFLIX AND POPTARTS

-Runaway