THE THREAD

A "Vigil" tale- from deep within the Mind's Eye

Her name was Imani Greene.
She was 12 and her legs didn’t work.

Spinal muscular atrophy, Type II. Diagnosed when she was three. By five, the playground was a warzone of “you can’t.” By seven, the other kids had stopped asking if she wanted to race.

Yet, Imani never stopped dreaming.

Not about walking.

About swinging.

She loved Spider-Man, because when he moved it was like the whole world made room for him. He flew, even when the city tried to crush him. He belonged in the sky.

Imani wanted that…

So she built her own city out of cardboard boxes, old wires, and string; right there in her room. She tied her wheelchair to the bedpost, leaned back with a hoodie on, and whispered to herself:

“I’m Spider-Girl. This is my city. And I’m not afraid.”

Yet, every day, reality reminded her that sometimes… dreams just hurt.

The darkness came on a cold night.

Her mother was working double shifts. Imani sat alone in the dark, watching a cracked tablet screen. Someone had uploaded blurry footage of a strange figure, thin, pale, glowing faint colors, entering a burning building and walking back out with a girl in his arms.

The comments called him “The Mind Reaper.”
Others called him “The Last Saint.”

When Imani looked into his eyes she saw something else….understanding.

She whispered, “I wanna meet him.”

In the moment she said it…he appeared.

She felt him as a soft hum behind her eyes, like something was knocking gently on her soul. The lights seemed to bend. Then he was there, standing in the corner of her room like he’d always belonged.

Bald. Pale. Frail… burning with inner light.

Vigil.

Imani didn’t scream.

She just stared and whispered, “You’re real.”

He nodded once. “So are you.”

She looked away, ashamed. “I can’t walk.”

“I know.”

“I want to be Spider-Girl but I can’t even run.”

Silence.

Then he stepped forward, knelt beside her, and placed two fingers on her temple.

What happened next…

…was not a miracle, not even healing…just seeing.

Suddenly, Imani was standing then running. Swinging through a thousand skylines inside her own mind. Every fear, every wound, every “you’ll never” became webbing between towers. The city bent to her rhythm as she soared.

She WAS Spider-Girl.

maybe not in body but…

In TRUTH!

Vigil was there, not as a savior, but as her witness.

“You were never broken,” he whispered. “You just needed someone to help you see.”

When she woke up, she was still in her chair.

Yet her eyes were different.

There was fire in them now.

She started building, for real this time. Gadgets. Launchers. Custom rigs. She studied robotics, web dynamics, urban traversal.

She refused to wait for legs and built her own way to fly.

Years later, she would take to the streets.

Her name: Silken™️
A hero in wheels.
A storm in motion.
Spider-Girl, her way.

They asked her once in an interview:

“Did someone give you your powers?”

She smiled softly.

“No.
Someone gave me myself.”