I would have resigned myself to a fate worse than death, but how did one do that? How was I supposed to convince myself to give up?
Doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.
Wait.
It used to be the kind of thing you’d do, though not on the same scale. But then you started growing a spine (ironically around the same time as, and largely because of, your life becoming defined by your relationship to invertebrates) and stopped hiding from the bullies.
It would be so easy, on a level. It was alluring, the idea that I could stop worrying, stop caring, after so much pressure for so many weeks and months. After so many years, if I counted the bullying. I wanted to give up, but a bigger, more stubborn, stupider part of my brain refused to let me.
Please tell me it’s not the part that wants to save Dinah.
Please tell me it’s the part that wants Taylor to live on, for her own sake.
Bonesaw returned all too soon. “Threads, Skitter? These yours, or leftovers from before?”
Wait, what? Did the spiders start spinning when she was thinking about using silk to pull the vials?
Threads? I hadn’t set any tripwires. I should have, but I’d been more focused on a quick rescue mission than preparations for a potential fight.
Well, you’re the one who wanted your power to act on your subconscious. You don’t always know consciously what your subconscious is up to.
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