Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2 Now just snap out of it, Spider-Charlie, Charlie thought after a few minutes of spider-panicking. There's no point in panicking. Things are going to get better, because they can't get any worse than they are right now. Charlie had never been more wrong about anything in his life. Things were about to get a whole lot worse. Any minute now, it will all be absolutely fine. Everything will be back to normal, Charlie thought to himself wrongishly. You see, Charlie is what's known as an 'optimist'. That means he looks on the bright side of things, and always expects the best out of life. This is, ordinarily, the best way to be.

But perhaps being an optimist is not the best way to be when you have just changed into a spider. Then it's perhaps best if you become something of a 'pessimist'. A pessimist is the opposite of an optimist. Pessimists always expect the worst to happen such as: 1. My football team will lose four–nil and I will score four own goals. 2. I will absolutly fail my speling test on Friday. 3. After suddenly turning into a spider, things will not suddenly become better but, in fact, they will become much worse because the family cat, a big ginger tom called Chairman Meow, will come into the bedroom and try to eat me. But Charlie was not a pessimist. He was an optimist. He was slowly calming down and panicking less because he was thinking positive thoughts. This was a very bad idea, because edging through the bedroom doorway was a fat, furry ginger cat called Chairman Meow. And Chairman Meow liked to eat spiders. And Charlie was a spider. You see where this is going? Finally so could Charlie. He froze in terror. Chairman Meow's eyes glinted in the dark.

Charlie spider-gulped. Chairman Meow lay flat, haunches in the air, ears pricked. Charlie accidentally let out an eensy-weensy, teeny-weeny little terrified spider-fart.fn1 Parp-pfft! Chairman Meow wiggled his furry bum, getting ready to pounce. Time seemed to stretch like a rubber band. Then it snapped. Charlie sprang into action. He skittered under his bed as fast as his eight legs could carry him. Chairman Meow leaped after him. Charlie ran as far and as fast as he could. Chairman Meow couldn't quite reach Charlie, but began to swipe at him with his fat ginger paws. Charlie ducked and ran and jumped past the jabbing claws. He reached the corner of his room, under his bed, cowering among old lollipop sticks and dusty Match Attax cards, a rotten apple core and a dead snail that he'd kept as a pet until it had escaped and at least now he knew where it had ended up.

The swinging, swiping claws were getting nearer. Charlie had to think and think fast.

And then he realized– he would have to spider his way out of the situation. He put one spindly foot against the wall. And then another. And another. And another. And ano– Well, you get the idea. He placed all eight of his feet on the wall. And then he began walking. Up the wall. Now this probably feels pretty normal to spiders, but Charlie did not feel it was in the least bit normal. Quite the opposite. In fact, as he climbed up the wall, Charlie would have been screaming at the top of his lungs, if spiders could scream (which as we already know they can't). Spiders might not be able to scream, but they are able to see backwards, and this suddenly became a very useful, actual life-saving ability. Because Charlie saw behind him that Chairman Meow had spotted him. He could feel the cat thudding across the floor towards him through the vibrations in his spider-feet. Charlie ran faster. Chairman Meow pounced high, stretching to get Charlie.

He just missed. Charlie ran as fast as he could up to the top of the wall and on to the ceiling just above the wardrobe. He stood spider-still, upside down, utterly terrified, as Meow prowled menacingly below him. Now this is as bad as it gets, thought Charlie. It can't get any worse. It definitely has to get better from here. Charlie had still not learned his optimism/pessimism lesson. In two swift, lithe leaps, Chairman Meow sprang first on to the bed, and then on to the top of the wardrobe. Without warning, Charlie was trapped upside down in the top corner of his bedroom, looking down at his pet cat, who was now inches away from eating him. At no point had Charlie ever imagined that this would be how he would die: turned into a spider and then munched by a furry ginger cat. Life's funny like that. This was it. The end. Game over. And there would be no starting the level again. The cat pounced, jaws wide.