Then I hear tapping, and the hiss of air escaping, and I know what she’s doing. She’s tampering with my CPAP. The CPAP is the only thing stopping me from turning into a sporeling. If it’s compromised, I’ll be breathing in the Christmas tree spores just like she did. And if I sleep, I’ll become one of them. I feel panic creeping up, like when you remember in tutorial that you’ve got an assessment that day and you haven’t done any revision. But worse, obviously, cos failing an exam means having to stay in at lunch and do it all over again, but turning into an alien bug means you’ll be scuttling over 160 rooftops, probably spitting poison, possibly growing freakish new body parts and definitely contributing to the fall of the human race. I really hate staying in at lunch, but this is at least two or three times worse.

You’re not asleep, though, Lance, I tell myself. You won’t turn if you’re not asleep. And if she’s going to the trouble of breaking my CPAP it means she’s not going to hurt me. She’s gonna make sure I’m breathing in those spores and that I’m fast asleep, then she’s gonna leave.

So I focus on the endless friendly oceans. On the soothing pressure of the eye pebbles. On drifting on an inflatable with a cool drink in my hand. Something coconutty. And then the tickling stops and I listen as the Velcro hands and feet sneak back the way they came. The window creaks, and a gust of icy wind blows in, sweeping over me in a wave of refreshment and relief. It’s flipping beautiful, man. The window closes and the scratching of Mum’s vile insect hands and feet moves back up to the roof and over to the other side of the house. I open my eyes and lie in bed, waiting for morning.

14

Ade

I get dressed more quietly than I ever thought possible. Mum always says that when I move around in my bedroom, it sounds like a thunderstorm. I need to be out of the door before she knows I’m awake, because it’s not going to take her long to realise I’m not connected to the hive mind. Right now, she thinks I’m sleeping and transforming and I need to keep it that way until I’m at a safe distance. I try to ignore the churning in my gut that’s telling me I won’t be able to come home again till this is all over. Today we need to fix everything, or there will be no chance for Straybridge.