Help with beginning of story. . . ?

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Warning: this post will contain SPOILERS for "Spider-Man 3". Turn back now if you don't want it ruined!

I would appreciate it alot if y'all could help me out here. SPOILERSPOILERSPOILER:::::::. . . . . . you know how Harry dies at the end of the movie? Well, I'm writing a fic where he lives. And I'm having a terrible time coming up with how to start it. I've written ALOT of drafts of paragraph 1s, so could y'all help me out with seeing which one is better?

Here are three of the ones I saved 'cause I think they sound ok. They are all unfinished chapters. So, just tell me which sounds like a better beginning:

+++++Beginning #1
He had been through a lot in the past couple of days. Smashing his head into a metal pipe and falling three stories to the cold, wet ground, only to be rewarded with amnesia. Having half his face practically blown off his skull by his own weapon, losing the use of his left eye and gaining the look of having dried leather on his face. Not to mention having the insane desire to see his childhood friend burn in Hell.

Christ, he thought as he dove forward, heat aching against his armored chest, What was I thinking?

Said friend Peter Parker, more commonly known to the world as Spider-Man, gaped as Harry dove right in front of him. The unmasked hero looked up into Harry’s eyes, astonishment and fear entering his own eyes. Arms spread wide, Harry tensed for the hit he knew was coming.

He wasn’t disappointed. A gasp escaped him as the blades pierced his back and entered his fatigued body, reemerging though his stomach. He followed Peter’s trembling eyes to the blood slicked blades protruding out of his belly and stared in bewilderment. When he had jumped in front of his best friend to save Peter’s life, he knew that he himself would be impaled. But it still seemed so unreal; seeing the blades of his own glider, something he had designed just weeks ago, gleaming in the rising sun with blood as they stuck out of his body. . . . it just seemed like a dream. Time even seemed to slow down. The pearls of blood dripping off the sleek metallic blades took forever to fall through the air and splatter on the ground; Peter’s lips moved slowly as he yelled in dismay, just as reluctant to believe what he saw as Harry was.

Then time sped up too quick for Harry’s taste.

A blood-curdling shriek tore through the air, and the creature holding the glider’s weapons in Harry hurled Harry off to the side in frustration. The blades slid clean out of Harry’s body as he flew through the early morning air. He heard the dim yell of Peter calling his name as he fell through the skeleton of a building.

Saved your life, he thought reminiscently, a grim smile playing on his cold lips. When he and Peter were only children, bullies had picked on Peter mercilessly. Once after school some especially brutish kids had cornered Peter behind a swing set. Cowering in the shadows of the swings, Peter had cried out for help; and like a hero out of a story, Harry came to the rescue. He had skidded to a halt before the bullies and told them off, threatening to tell the teachers. After the kids ran off, Harry had gone to Peter and said with a grin, “Saved your life.”

The sudden sight of the ground rushing up to meet Harry brought him out of his memories with a cruel jerk. He threw his arms in front of his face just as he hit the metal floor. He lay there, dazed, in pain, fighting back bitter tears. Trying to ignore the brand new pain from the fall, he began to push himself off the floor. But he was too weak. He had lost a lot of blood, and it didn’t show any sign of stopping.

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++++++Beginning #2 (this is in italics because Harry is remembering it)
Mary Jane sobbed and smoothed Harry’s hair back soothingly, pearls of tears sliding down her cheeks in the early morning sun. Harry looked up at her face from her lap, and a lump caught in his throat. She was so beautiful; he knew she would make Peter happy. It was because of Harry that Peter and Mary Jane would be together; he had saved Peter’s life, sacrificing his own.

Surprisingly, he didn’t regret it.

“I should never have hurt you,” Peter said, voice thick with remorse. “Should never have said those things.”

Harry looked into his friends eyes, his own burning with fresh tears. He pushed past a lump in his throat and murmured, “None of that matters, Pete. You’re my friend.”

Peter’s trembling lips formed a sad smile. “Best friend.”

Harry’s smile faded with his eyesight. He had long knew that his time was up, and he didn’t fight it. His last good deed had outdone his evil ones. He was at peace.

Darkness consumed him; fear gripped his dying heart. Familiar voices spoke hurriedly, deliberately, frantically. He struggled to inhale one last, shuddering breath. . . and then there was silence.
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A steady beeping noise brought Harry Osborne back into consciousness. He swam past the inky blackness of sleep and opened his eyes. Temporarily blinded by a bright white light, he rubbed the last bits of sleep from his eyes and tried to sit up. He didn’t last one second sitting up; he was too weak. With a grunt, he fell back. His head hit a soft pillow, his back coming down against a firm mattress.

“The doctors said you’d wake up weak, sir,” came a familiar voice from out of Harry’s sight. “I would advise you not to try and get up. It would only make matters worse.”

Harry turned his head groggily to find his butler, and long time friend, Bernard sitting in a chair by his side.

Pleasantly surprised, Harry grinned. “Bernard! Christ, I never thought I’d see you again.”

A grateful tear found its way onto Harry’s cheek. Ashamed, Harry wiped it away with a relieved chuckle. He felt oddly giddy; and had a good reason. He was alive! Alive, alive, alive. He wasn’t dead and in the ground. He was alive, blessedly alive.

“The same thought entered my mind when Spider-Man brought you in, sir.” Bernard said grimly. “I was afraid you would not make it.” His elderly face split into a smile. “I’m glad that you’re alive, Harry.”

Holding back more tears, Harry smiled back. “Me too, Bernard. Me too.”

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+++++Beginning #3 (another memory sequence)
Mary Jane cradled Harry’s head in her lap, pearls of tears running freely down her cheeks. Harry fought to keep his eyes open; he knew that if he let them slide close, they would stay closed.

“MJ,” he breathed, his lips wet with blood. “Hold my hand, please.”

MJ nodded and took his hand, too choked up with grief to speak. Her hand was cool with sweat against Harry’s. A brief memory flashed in his mind of the two holding hands in Central Park, laughing with not a care in the world as they strode beneath the trees. They paused by a tree with low branches that shaded them from prying eyes and Harry pulled her in close, leaning in for a kiss. . . .

Peter landed a few feet away, bringing Harry out of his memories. Peter pulled his mask off and kneeled by Harry.

“Hey pal. How’s it going?”

Fighting to keep his eyes open, Harry smiled up at Peter. “Been better.”

Through his tears, Peter smiled back. “We’ll get you through this.”

“No.”

Harry saw the understanding in his friend’s eyes. . . . . . . .

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Sooooo. . . . thanks to everyone who has read this far. Its, like, ALOT of stuff to read >_<

Please vote which one you think is better, and please give me tips on how to make them better, or post your opinions on them. Thanks!

So, what does everyone think?

_________________

"It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them."
--Ralph Waldo Emerson

I like the First one, it had lots of detail.:) but the 2nd one sounded great.:D it went straight to the ponit.X3 almost.

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"Pain Doesn't Hurt when it's all you've ever felt!"

"Judge Me! Everyone Else Does!To let you know, I only care about what the Man above thinks of me."

"Tears falling slowly down the midnight sky, sometimes i wonder why I cry, oh why.They Pain I hold, the tears you shead, leaving the PAST i have a PAINFUL dread.When That horrible day came, the future never was the same...."

The first ones very nice! :3

Thanks for y'all's opinions! ^_^

_________________

"It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them."
--Ralph Waldo Emerson