[Original: Drabble] "Break My Fall" [Zeke Jones, G]

Nov 04, 2014 23:25

Title: Break My Fall
Prompt: writerverse challenge #04 phase 11 table of doom, prompt #09 ‘lost’ (1st person, 500+ words)
Word Count: 697
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones 'verse)
Summary: Zeke’s life has been a series of falls, but now she has someone to catch her.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library

Break My Fall

My parents died two months before I was supposed to start college. I didn’t go.

Actually, I didn’t leave our- my- apartment for three whole weeks, until Mrs. Teodoris from 19C, who had been bringing me casseroles the whole time, made me go with her to the grocery store. She’d lost her husband a couple of years before, and she knew just when to push and when to leave me alone, to get me going again.

My parents had left me the apartment, and I was getting some money from their insurances, but we’d never been rich and the only relative I knew of who wasn’t a very distant cousin had been Great-Uncle Huw, who died when I was sixteen and gave me his car. I would be okay, financially, at least for a while, but I knew I’d have to get a job.

I’d done a summer internship at the public library, and luckily enough, they were hiring. At the time, I guess I figured that I would work there forever. I would have gone to college for literature before, but I could have switched to night school- Temple and Drexel were each only a train ride away- and gotten my bachelor’s at least, maybe even something higher.

Then, I was Bitten.

I don’t exactly remember the attack itself, but I remember the week afterwards, the blood and the hunger, lying in a hospital bed as the Philadelphia Vampire Council tried to decide my fate. Tried, because I left as soon as the hospital would let me, bought a pint of pig’s blood and a pound of smoked bacon at Reading Terminal Market, and signed up for the Police Academy.

Where, upon my graduation, I was assigned as the rookie partner to the city’s only werewolf cop.

The short version of all this is that my entire adult life has been a series of events that metaphorically dropped me off a cliff into the unknown.

“Jones,” said Howell’s voice, from somewhere very far below me. “You’ll have to let go.”

“I will not!” I called back.

A cat had started this whole mess, when its young owner had stopped us on our foot patrol asking for help getting it down from the roof of the two-story brownstone. Howell stayed outside, and I let the girl show me through the house, then point me out the door to the roof, which I propped open behind me, and slid out onto a very narrow decorative ledge.

The cat seemed happy to be rescued, and I passed him back inside through a tiny bathroom window. There was no way I was going to be able to squeeze through, as well, so I turned to go back inside, hesitating.

“Jones, if you don’t hurry it up,” said Howell, “I will call the fire brigade.”

“What, like a cat stuck in a tree?” I called, talking to help take my mind off worrying about my footing going back in- the ledge had seemed so much easier to navigate when I’d been going forward.

Suddenly, there was a strong gust of wind. The door banged shut and I lost my balance, only barely managing to hook my elbow around a piece of wooden gingerbread trim. I knew the door had locked behind me, and since my partner had oh-so-helpfully pointed out, my only options were to jump or let him call the firemen.

“Is letting go really such a good idea?” I asked.

I’m not afraid of heights, but no rational human, vampire or werewolf isn’t afraid of falling from them.

“It’s only thirty feet, Jones,” Howell snapped, which was actually a little reassuring. “Let go, slowly, and I’ll break your fall.”

I took a deep breath, and let go.

I didn’t fall as fast as I thought I would, and Howell caught me easily. I wobbled a little when he set me back on my feet- especially when I glanced back up at the gable where I’d been dangling- but I stayed upright.

The girl was standing in the yard, her cat in her arms, watching us. “That was awesome!” she said. “Can I try?”

“No,” Howell and I said, together.

THE END




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drabble, original fiction, zeke_jones, writerverse

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