‘A LUCKY BREAK’ by JJ Breech

The devil is in the details, they say. But they say a lot, don’t they? Well they do to me: over and over and over again. Telling me what to do, how to do it, how not to do it, when to do it; really, who in Hell do they think they are? But up here, I can no longer hear them: the wind’s too loud, and holding on so long, makes me tired, and unfocussed, so much so that my sight is blurry and my mind is finally blank. It’s strange after trying alcohol and drugs, pre-scripted meds, and none of it working, none of it stopping the chattering and babbling in my head, I find out all I’ve got to do is sit on the tallest building in the City and its like I’m out of their range or so far away from it all, they no longer know where I am.

I can see my flat from here, over the river, just beneath the sun as it begins to set on another day. I hope and pray (yes pray, not done that for a long time) that this will be my last, and I find the courage to do what needs to be done, the reason I’m up here. But are all these just words, with no real intent behind them, can I really do what needs to be done? Then, suddenly I hear them, you’re not going to do it, you haven’t the fuckin’ balls, we’ll catch you before you hit the ground, and then, you’ll be forever ours.

Now or never, I think, now or never. I open my arms out as if to take flight but I don’t jump: I fall, just let myself go, and the wind blasts at my ears and whips around my coat and my heartbeat quickens and……

I hear nothing but a slow, steady beat. It’s monotonous and repetitive, yet soothing, calming.  Opening my eyes I see my arms are extended out, huge and white and wide like angels wings but as my vision starts to focus in on them, I realise they are just in plaster. A smiling face comes into view and I am told that I am very lucky, because if I hadn’t hit that worker’s tent, I wouldn’t be here. A tiny torch light flashes in each eye and I hear a calming voice telling me everything is going to be alright. The doctor flips through a clipboard, smiles and wishes me goodnight. She closes the door behind her and… then… suddenly… well, well, you ain’t going anywhere now… you’re ours to do with what we want… you can’t even go to the fuckin’ bathroom on your own… you pathetic piece of shit… we’re gonna really enjoy this… and you? You’re gonna wish you’d hit the pavement. You poor bastard… it just looks like we caught ourselves a lucky break.

As tears welled in my eyes I could just about make out three shadows moving towards me. I could also hear a strange, distant, muffled noise; it took a moment for me to realise it was me, hidden beneath the bandages that were wrapped around my screaming mouth.


JJ Breech is the  Curator/ Editor/ OversEEr  of bizarrEEye Creative Community. He writes @ the UNSEEN & the OBSCENE blog (amongst other places) and has had an interest in Horror and the Fantastique from an early age, when he saw An American Werewolf In London, and realised that’s exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up!