Ultimate Spider Woman Issue 7 Confrontation
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Ultimate Spider-Woman Issue 1: Denial free porn video
Ultimate Spider Woman: Loss and Grief
Foreword
Jessica Drew AKA Spider Woman is a clone of Peter Parker, Ultimate
Spider-Man (USM) of Earth 1610. If you can access them I recommend you
check out the the Clone Saga (USM #97-#105) and Ultimatum (USM #129-#
133), Ultimate Doomsday Trilogy (mystery, enemy and doom). Maybe also
Miles Morales Spider Man and the All New Ultimates. Ths story includes
snippets from USM comics to keep continuity with references to relevant
comics as well.
***
Issue 1: Denial
Red and blue crawled slowly across the facades of the buildings. I
watched the police clean up the crime scene in the street below. This
had turned into another cold night atop a rooftop where I was mulling
over the mess my life had become. My head ached from my recent
defenestration and nose dive into a police car. The paramedics were
putting the crazy mob assassin Electra into the ambulance. I wasn't sure
she'd made it. I think she'd had one of Moon Knights blades in the back
of her head. I sighed in frustration.
Girls. It always came back to girls. MJ- Mary Jane Watson, the love of
my life, my only confidant and best friend. We'd broken up cause she
didn't have super powers and couldn't keep safe. I'd had to end us
before my secret life ended her. That's the CliffsNotes version of
things. It was the responsible thing to do. That's me. Mr Responsible.
That brings me to Black Cat AKA Felicia Hardy AKA smoking hot babe in
revealing cat suit that made all my spider senses tingle. I should have
known better than to side with Cat. Of course she'd betray me. It was in
her nature. Cats are fickle creatures after all. She'd joined Hammerhead
and Electra without a seconds thought. It had noting to do with right or
wrong, she did it solely because they were enemies of the Kingpin.
Sorta. Shang Chi, Iron Fist and Moon Knight... They could have been
killed. Hell, Moon Knight was injured in the mayhem. Then Cat switched
sides again. (USM #85)
It turned out alright but that didn't make me any less angry. My fist
clenched. I should web Cat up and leave her for the cops. Why didn't I!?
Because I have a crush? This is stupid. But here we are.
Angry and disappointed I turned about to leave. "Hey!" Felicia said as
she easily jump somersaulted and alighted catlike in front of me,
blocking my way.
"Jeez!" I said, thanking god my mask lenses prevented Felicia from
seeing me stare at her. It's hard to look anywhere else. Did I mention I
had a crush?
"Do you really think I'm pretty?" she asked demurely.
"Well, yeah," I admitted awkwardly, averting my eyes, blood rushing to
my head, the mask hiding my blush. God. I felt every one of my fifteen
years at the moment. Um... Pi, to ten decimal places. Er, 3.14... dammit
can't change what I'm thinking about.
Cat smiled winningly. "Well, see, I didn't know."
"Yes, you did," I said nervously. Why did this feel like a game of cat
and mouse. Probably cause it was.
Black Cat moved disconcertingly forwards. "You still mad at me?"
I tried to remember why I should be mad at her. It was hard. "Yes." I
backed into a chimney as I tried to maintain my personal space. "Oof."
"Where are you going now?" she asked with keen interest.
"Uh... home," I said. To bed. That was the wrong thing to think about.
"Can I come with you?" She suggested, pressing into me, bedroom eyes way
too enticing.
She was warm and very soft just like I'd imagined. Bad imagination. Down
boy. I felt my mouth go dry. "Uh..."
"Can I?" She moved against me slowly and it grew harder to think.
"No," I squeaked.
"Do you want to kiss me?" she pressed.
Oh my god... I floundered. "Little bit." I can't move. Like a deer in
headlights.
"Let's do it," Felicia decided.
I stared, mind racing as I tried to figure out where this was leading.
"What?"
"Right here right now. Kiss me," she whispered huskily.
I tried to respond but words failed me. Oh my God...
"I think about this all the time... what's under this mask. Who this
mystery man in my life really is? I want to see you. I want to kiss you.
I'm ready." Her breath was warm on my mask. Her lips loomed, begging to
be kissed.
Oh my god. I was trapped. Those headlight were on high beam and I was
trapped in them.
"Right now. I want to unwrap my mystery present." Her dangerously clawed
gloves were gently at my throat, at the join between my mask and suit,
pushing the mask up, exposing my neck.
Stop her. She's - she's unmasking you. Stop it. Well... she's oh my God.
My feet are missing.
"I'm going to do it, Spider-Ma... I'm going to take off this mask and
I'm going to kiss you." She purred.
This is - no! This is - I felt air first on my chin, then progressively
on my lips, my nose and my brow as she slid my mask up. Revealing me
completely. Unmasked. I looked up at her and smiled. I closed my eyes,
puckered up and moved forward for the promised kiss.
I kissed open air. "I thought you were you're just a little... how how
old are you?" She asked in a thin, shocked voice. "Bluuaaggh!!"
I opened my eyes in shock, something warm and wet hitting my belly and
dripping down. I stared down. She'd thrown up on me. She looked at me,
her surprise and nausea clear, as though she'd been doused in icy water
or worse.
"Sorry... fur ball," she muttered as she turned and fled. I watched her
go feeling decidedly stupid and dejected. This was just so frustrating
and confusing. So... typical. The old Parker luck. What had I been
thinking? Man my head ached. My vision swam as the rooftop faded.
"She's coming out of it..." a voice noted.
I shook off the encounter with Felicia. Was that a dream? No. It was a
recent memory. It happened just moments ago. I was certain... the
confusion... sexual excitement... embarrassment... and that overwhelming
tension... an aching head from the fall... Yeah, that was moments ago...
but no vomit or aching head now.
Oh man, that was a total crash and burn. How typical. What a fool I am!
Thank God no one saw it. I'd never live it down. But... why am I waking
up? How the hell did I get here?
I looked up at the guy, vision swimming. She's coming out of it? Yeah.
Me too, I thought absently. Something is very wrong. I feel weak. Frail.
Not myself. Who are this person and what is he doing to me? Where the
heck is my costume? My face is still exposed. I just took my mask off, I
know that, but now I'm in bed, under sheets, in a hospital gown. I lay
prone, handcuffed securely to a gurney with I.V. tubes running into
veins, other things monitoring vitals and a catheter pressing
uncomfortably below the waist. That felt disturbing. Beside the bed sat
a machine that went PING.
My eyes searched then locked on ... something. I stared
uncomprehendingly at the contours outlined by the bed sheets. I'd just
been admiring Felicia's generously filled costume. Those didn't looked
nearly as ample... but... from my perspective they were mountains. Holy
crap! Fear kicked in immediately, the disorientation of waking
retreating. Unmasking tends to do that. As does an out of body
experience like this one.
Black Cat... We'd been together moments ago, I'm completely certain. How
did I get here in this body that is clearly not mine?
I searched about for answers. Rows of bright fluorescent lighting
stabbed into my eyes. The room was of solid reinforced construction. An
institutional building. Beyond the grinning man stood shadowy figures
dressed in surgical hazmat suits. Standard issue rent a goons. Most had
large machine guns aimed at their patient. Their prisoner. Me. Damn it.
The old Parker luck never fails me. I don't get it.
"Hi. My name is Ben Reilly. If that name sounds vaguely familiar it's
because I was Doctor Curt Connors' assistant a few months ago," he
explained.
I followed his words despite all the guns. Curt recently played god with
my blood sample and created that crazy red symbiote that killed Gwen.
This guy helped do that? Great. A mad scientist's assistant. He's a
bloody Renfield... What could possibly go wrong? I went to respond with
an inane quip but a weird high pitched mewling noise came out instead.
It sounded absurdly childish. My larynx throbbed with dull pain.
"Don't worry about trying to talk. You can't yet. You were brought into
this world just a week ago. Your body hasn't fully adjusted to its-- how
can I explain it? Your body is still forming. You've been heavily
sedated so as to not hurt yourself."
A week?! Still forming...? He's lying. Has to be. But they definitely
have me sedated. Bastard. It's not for my good. You're worried about me
hurting you. But... What are you doing to me? How...
"I know in your mind, you're a little freaked out and confused right
now... but don't worry about that either." Renfield advised. "Okay, in
your head you remember yourself as Peter Parker, Spider Man... But
you're not him. In fact you're not even a him. You're a her. A
biological replica of him, created by me and my team. You're in an R and
D facility for the Central Intelligence Agency."
I was suddenly preoccupied with the effort of wringing Renfield's lousy
neck. So weak! Drugged. That's what he said. Must also be hallucinating.
Temporal, auditory and visual. Yeah that's it. Blow to the head. Fell
from a building. Shoulda known...
As I tried to move the guys with guns tightened their grips sending my
spider sense tingling. Well that's ... not good. My spider sense is
telling me they're a real threat. So I'm their prisoner. That much is
real. Weak and panting with effort my hands dropped feebly to the
sheets. My hands look and feel small. Feminine. Matching my perception
of my chest. What have they drugged me with?
"You're safe and okay," Ben reassured me.
I shook my head. You know Renfield you need to work on your bedside
manner 'cause everything you just said left me feel decidedly unsafe and
unokay. I snorted in disgust, hands moving up to test the curves I saw
on my chest, then going rigid at what they found. Oh no. Oh no! No, no,
no, no! He can't be telling the truth. They can't have given me girl
parts!? This is just some kind of weird psychedelic brainwashing
experiment. My mind raced. It looks and feels real but it ain't.
"You're phase five of the project actually. The goal was to process a
clone of Peter Parker. Why him? Because well, because of his spider
powers. And in your case we did a little chromosomal manipulation and
you were born a girl. And you are a rousing success. You're the best one
so far. We're really- this is very, very exciting."
A little chromosomal what? Sheesh! I've dealt with crazy before but this
is like, meta crazy. This fruit loop thinks I'll believe I'm a clone? A
female clone!!? No. Black Cat must have slipped me a Mickey. I knew I
shouldn't have trusted her. But when did she get goons? No. I must have
passed out from the blow to my head... I've been captured by someone
with mind powers. Or maybe this was hypnotism. A pink brain slug?
What was that line? I doubt my senses because a little thing affects
them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an
undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment
of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you,
whatever you are! I snorted.
"Now, the good news, as confusing as it is to have the memories and
sense memories of a boy when you are a girl and the memories of someone
you're not... don't worry. We have a psych team coming in very soon and
you'll be stripped of all those memories and we'll have all new ones
implanted in you in no time. In fact, by then you won't even remember
having this conversation, the fact that you're a clone or any of this."
That's a horrible thought. Good thing this is all in my head or I'd be
getting worried. I considered. Cause if this is real then my life just
jumped the shark. Heck if this is real it isn't even my life. I
shuddered. If, just for a moment we assume this is real I need to get my
Xeroxed mind around it. Phase five... so... Five clones of me? No. Not
of me. Of him. Peter Parker. No that is me... can't buy into this mixed
up head game. But supposing it's real. That made six. Hah! One more and
we'd have a soccer team... Yeah this has to be some kind of bad head
trip... there's no other explanation. God I'm exhausted.
"But we need to run some psych evaluation tests on you before we go to
the next step, and that includes telling you this and observing how you
react to it. And your next life, if you choose to accept it, is going to
be just as exciting as being Spider-Man- You'll be a special agent for
the Central Intelligence Agency. Cool huh?" He asked.
Cool? Yeah until I come down from whatever horse sized pills I'm
tripping on. I'm going to be wrecked... I yawned, blinking asleep for a
moment.
"Let's see what they have for you... you'll be special agent Jessica
Drew. Pretty name. You'll be an agent of the CIA. Codename: Spider-
Woman. Ugh. Not very original. I'll try to have them change it for you,"
Renfield offered.
I sighed nervously. If this is a hallucination then it's really
complicated. My subconscious has this all figured out... now did I ever
want to be a girl? Uh uh. No. Must be mind control. Jean? Jean Grey? You
there? This isn't funny. I don't like you mind swapping me. Ever...
so... tired.
"So how did this all happen? Well if you remember... when you, and by
you I mean Peter Parker, were friends with Curt Connors, he stole a
sample of your blood... and, you'll remember, he accidentally incubated
a clone prototype that became that horrible monster that wreaked such
carnage on my college campus. And killed your friend Gwen Stacy. Well I
helped him. Clearly that was not the plan. We didn't want to hurt
anyone. We wanted to help people. But that happened. And then..." He
kept talking but I didn't hear cause I'm pretty sure I fell asleep.
Or woke up. I found myself male again, in my spidey costume, web
swinging back home. But it was a strange sensation. A bit like I was not
exactly in control, yet I was. I remember Renfield's little speech like
it just happened. I'm male again - yay! - and swinging back from my
failed encounter with Felicia. Head throbbing from hitting that patrol
car. That's good. So what was that thing with Renfield? As I tried to
figure that out I found a water tap on some roof and did my best to
clean the mess off my suit.
The mess from when Black Cat barfed all over me. I can't believe she
threw up on me. Jeez. I'm not that unattractive am I? I suppose I could
be a bit young for her though. That I conceded. But MJ and I just broke
up and Black Cat could look after herself... In retrospect that was
probably the only thing she had going for her. Oh and she was drop dead
gorgeous. Still unmasking was a bad idea. Hormones over ruled my good
sense. Black Cat isn't a good person. Not someone I need in my life. Not
a girl I could take home to meet Aunt May. Yeah. I dodged a bullet
there. But fur ball? Damn!
I finished cleaning and swung away. Soon I was at my bag webbed to the
base strut of a rooftop water tower. I took my bag with my civvies in it
and swung back to the dark lane near my home in Queens. Quickly I
removed my mask and put my normal street clothes back on over my suit.
Everything on my body was exactly where it should be. Everything was
right. I went to confirm with my hands but I couldn't. Huh. Weird. It
was exactly like I was a passenger.
Must be the blow to the head... But... Maybe I was drugged. Or maybe it
was some kind of weird dissociative identity disorder thing? God that's
a horrible thought, all this running around in a mask is causing me to
develop a split personality disorder. No. It's something else... but
what?
Hang on. Here come those embarrassing memories of Black Cat. A sense of
regret and chagrin associated with the failed kiss. And that throbbing
headache. "Ow," I muttered with a hang dog expression as I opened the
front door, only to be confronted by Aunt May. "Hi Aunt M-"
"Did you skip school again today?" May accused. The silence hung thickly
as the tension grew. I felt guilty as heck and with me throbbing head I
couldn't think of an excuse. "I won't live in a house of lies. If I have
to speak to you again about this I'm kicking you out. Can I be any more
clear?"
I slunk upstairs to my bedroom, stripped off my clothes and vomit
stained suit, stuffed them in the laundry hamper and climbed into bed. I
curled up under my covers to feel sorry for myself. My head pounded.
Worry and angst about women and superheroing plagued me. Would Felicia
figure out who I really was? Would she use that knowledge to get at the
Kingpin? She had made noises about going straight but she was fickle as
a cat. What had gone wrong...? Not a fur ball. Obviously it was the age
difference. Would she even speak to me again? How would MJ feel if she
found out? Betrayed. No we'D broken up. Still I felt guilty. Like I'd
cheated. And then there was Aunt May. She didn't deserve this stress but
I had been doing the right thing stopping Hammerhead even though Fisk
benefited.
Yeah this is normal. So what was that weird delusion about being a
woman? And why was I observing everything so damned detachedly? What is
this weird sensation of being a passenger in my own body? I tried to
click my fingers. Nothing.
I buried my face in my pillow, tossing and turning as I wrestled with my
thoughts, head pain intense. My mistakes. It took forever for me to nod
off.
And then I was back with Black Cat on the roof top. Again. Oh God. Is
this delusion ever going to end? I feel like I'm stuck in that film
Groundhog Day. But I still felt more like a passenger than a
participant. Is my brain stuck on repeat? That blow to the head must
have been worse than I though... Huh. Come to think of it this all looks
a little different. No smells. Sounds odd too.
The moon was full and much larger and brighter. The stars glimmered
oddly and there were no familiar constellations, just random pinpricks
in the black curtain of night. The cityscape was more an impression,
like the backdrop to a play. I intuited it more than saw it. The colours
were dark but oddly vivid. Like something Van Gogh might paint. Spidey
Night...
I stared at her costume again. It seemed more revealing. More erotic. My
gaze focused. Well those are the same. But my interest seemed a little
... too much. Like the colours it was vivid and overly intense. I had a
bad feeling about this.
Hey. Stop. We both know how this ends... it's a train wreck pal. Stop.
Abort! I tried to tell myself. But this vignette had its own script
apparently.
Again I went to kiss her but this time she was in my arms, kissing me
back passionately, her full curves pressing against my body. Those
curves. Wow. Then I was unmasked and somehow we had our skin tight
costumes off. Not sure how that happened... Hot skin against skin.
Then... she wanted it. I wasn't scared or uncertain or anything. I
wanted it too. This time we got it.
Oh God! Do. I. Get. A. Say. In. This?
I awoke on the gurney, for a moment half on that weird sordid rooftop,
half in the complex. Then the sense of being on that surreal roof faded.
The rows of fluorescent night lights were on. The place was quiet and
still. I was sweating and breathing heavily with excitement. I was
really excited. And it felt really, really different. It's hard to
explain but it was confusing as hell. Worst of all there was something
between my legs, something sticky.
Oh God! I berated myself as I panted with what I can only describe as
arousal. My hands were between my legs. But there was nothing else
there. Okay Pete. Back to the delusion of being a female prisoner...
it's gotta be. So aroused though. Like a nocturnal emission... the only
pro was that I didn't feel like a passenger now. My thoughts were all
mine despite my excitement. This is not some weirdly surreal voyeuristic
erotic vision.
That was... just wow... intense!
"Jessica? Are you okay? Your vitals just spiked." Ben called over an
intercom as he worked the security door to open it. "Must have been
something from the Prime."
"Mfwine..." I responded with some difficulty, still weak and sweating
from the Uber extreme experience. My mumbling voice sounded high,
breathy, feminine. What just happened?! Urgently I tried to remove my
hands but they were stuck fast. Webbed, to be precise. That was the
sticky sensation. Thank. God. I thought... but I was wrong. But I feel
like I'm hopped on drugs. Viagra...? Pulse racing... holy crap.
And... Wait! I'm not wearing my web shooters. Am I? No. I'm definitely
not. How? I wriggled my fingers. Things felt all... wrong... down there.
But clearly I've just webbed my hands to myself without web shooters.
Huh. That explains why I can't feel things properly. Webbing. And my
fingers tingled slightly. Did the webbing just come from my fingers?
Organic webs? Not possible. Still, better it came from my finger tips
than my... abdomen... cause... if it's not there... Ew!
"Are you okay Jessica?" Ben asked, pausing to check my vitals. "You seem
back to normal."
"Mwuh Huh," I responded in the positive. Don't come in! Oh man. Don't
come in. This is embarrassing enough without you looking. This webbing
better dissolve soon because I'm not strong enough to break free. I lay
there exhausted as I calmed down. Wow.
"Alright then." Ben replied, going back to his monitors. "I should tell
you we intend to have you awake when Peter is asleep. There is a good
reason for unsynching your respective sleeping patterns. If we don't
then... well the dreams are much too intense as you now know. And the
side affects are... bad." He trailed off.
I flushed in embarrassment and relief. Yeah I don't want more of these
acid dreams. I shuddered. Jeez. Puberty is difficult enough. But hyper
immersive drug flipped dreams? That was a sensory and emotive overload.
Like I was there with everything dialed up to the max. Hell it still
feels a bit like I'm there now. But whatever they're doing to me makes
it feel like I'm in the wrong body right now. Ew! This is too much! God
damned puberty blues! I don't need this. As if life wasn't complicated
enough.
"We're getting it under control for you. The first clone has some
significant mental issues because we didn't realise soon enough. Some...
unhealthy denial issues. Couldn't accept his new reality.". Ben
explained. "We tried to fix it but that attempt on the second clone led
to progeria. We think we can solve the problem with a mind wipe. You
know what they say. You can't make an omelette without breaking a few
eggs, right? As Peter is very active your waking hours aren't overly
constrained. We just monitor him and keep you clones awake when he
sleeps. Better that than the alternative. Your first awakening threw
things off though. Caught us with our pants down. So just stay awake.
I'll tell you when you can go back to sleep."
Monitor? What? I felt overwhelmed but also violated. They knew when I
slept. Peter slept? No. I was Peter. This guy was an utter ass hat but I
don't want any more of those dreams. Damn it, that dream was completely
overwhelming. I blinked tears back and stared at the cameras monitoring
the room. I should be thankful for the sheets at least. Can't show what
I'm feeling.
I lay there, struggling to keep my eyes open, to not fall asleep, hands
webbed the whole time. I struggled but ended up nodding off.
Again I was looking at the impressionistic cityscape, reflected in the
river. The Queensboro Bridge? Oh hell no! Not this dream. I know this
dream! It's cast always gets bigger and it just gets worse and worse
every time! I crouched atop the bridge, dreading what was about to
happen. The bridge seemed taller than in real life. Unbelievably tall.
Sinister. I looked about with a grim certainty.
Yep. There he was. The Green Goblin, circling menacingly about me in the
air like some predatory shark. Flaming eyes flickering crazy colours,
mouth all sharp teeth, horns immeasurably long and sharp. Palpable,
burning hate, insanity and evil. I knew terror. Raw, instinctive,
primal, unreasoning fear. This was that dream made real. Too real. I
felt so small compared to his huge sickly green bulk. Flames danced
about his balled fists.
The monster held Mary Jane on his shoulder as she struggled, him
laughing all the while like a madman. "No!" I cried as he dropped her. I
leaped. Falling as she fell. Just out of reach. I tried to use my
webbing. My shooters were empty. It was just like a bad dream but real.
Everything in slow motion. Dive. Faster. Faster. Not fast enough. Too
slow to catch her. I almost had her. But she was just out of reach. "No.
No. No. it's my fault..."
"Peter!!! You promised you'd keep me safe. You lied." There was horror
and fear in her eyes. But also hatred.
"MJ! No." She was going to die and it was all because of me. Oh god. She
hit the water like it was concrete. There was a sickening crunch of
bone. I grabbed her lifeless body. Pulled her close. Cold. Lifeless.
Gone. She'd died hating me. I felt crushed by loss and regret. Guilt.
"No! I'm sorry! This is all my fault..." I hugged her, buried my face in
her mass of floating red hair. I wanted forgiveness but didn't deserve
it. Then something touched my leg. I looked up. Floating there beside me
was the desiccated corpse of Gwen Stacy. It pointed a bony finger at me.
"Gwen?" I asked. How can I talk underwater?
"Peter... this is your fault." Gwen's lifeless eyes stared at me
accusingly. "Your lies killed me!"
The truth of her words cut into me. God. I'm drowning in the weight of
this emotion. This guilt. My lies.
Beyond her floated Uncle Ben. Shot. Dead. Because of me.. "You failed me
Pete. It's your fault. Your life is an empty lie!"
I nodded. "But Uncle Ben. I'm trying to live up to your expectations.
Trying to make it right. I'm sorry. I..." But he floated watching me
with disgust.
There were more. "You killed her. Everything you touch dies. You're an
imposter. You're no hero." Gwen's dad rasped, his bomb mangled visage a
horror to behold. The water was red with blood. "Liar!"
"That wasn't me. I didn't.. I... oh god. It's too much. Help me!
Someone! Please. Help."
"Get out!" Aunt May said in hurt rage, looking down upon me from the
bridge above, the water distorting her, making her bigger. Her
disappointment and grief were huge and palpable. "Go live in your house
of lies. Get out!" Behind her the flaming insanity circled, inexorably
approaching in a mad spiral of doom. She was going to die too. Because
of me.
"Aunt May. Please. I only ever wanted to protect you."
With a wrenching sob I awoke. I lay there. Unable to think. Tears in my
eyes. Oh God. Too intense! I... why... the guilt was unbearable.
"Told you. Don't nod off," Ben said.
I nodded and let the guilt coil about in my mind. Guilt I felt because
of my lies. The dream had hit the issue on the head. But that hadn't
been my dream. I understood that now. There was no way that was my
dream. Still Peter Parker's subconscious had communicated to me. I
couldn't afford to lie to myself.
The intensity of that dream... god. The guilt. I had to break that
cycle. No. More. Lies. I thought the words clinically to myself. I have
too many regrets. My lies have hurt too many people. No. More. Lies. I
nodded in agreement.
Lies. I can't lie to the ones I love. And... more importantly... I can't
lie to myself... It all starts here with me. I can't lie to myself. So
then. This. This is real. I shuddered. I have to face the truth. No
more lies. Not to myself.
I'm... not Peter Parker... not the original at least. But... Who am I? I
lay there, reviewing things over and over. Hands still webbed. Alien
contours of my body in stark definition under the cold antiseptic light.
There was no escaping the truth. God. I'm spinning around in circles.
You bastards! Who am I?
"Okay. Peter is up. You can go to sleep Jessica," Ben finally said.
Like Hell I'm Jessica. I'm... Peter? Aargh!
In my exhausted state it didn't take long for me to nod off. Mercifully
there were no more dreams.
Jayla
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