Query:
Most people have nightmares about falling, being naked in public, stuff like that. Tommy's has claws, fangs, and the ability to see through his eyes. And it managed to break out of dreamland.
Tommy should have been doing something normal, like playing video games with his buddy. Even studying would have been better than standing on the cornice of a church, 50 feet above the pavement, staring at the fury, wondering which of them would die tonight.
A week ago, the monster had been a man. A man with a family. Until Tommy’s dream changed all that.
250:
Drop.
Count.
Ping.
Drop.
Count.
Ping.
Sometimes I do the strangest things.
Like now. For at this moment, I was standing on the Euclid Avenue overpass, conducting last-minute physics experiments. Why could I not instead be entangled in some typical teen escapade, like egging someone’s mailbox? Getting arrested would be infinitely better than getting dead.
The wind off the lake whipped my bangs into my eyes. This was bad. I needed to be able to see. I had to be able to see. I should have made time for a haircut. I should have made time for a lot of things. Planning. Ninja school. Finding someone, anyone, with enough common sense to talk me out of this.
What the hell was I thinking?
Actually, I had planned. Mostly. I'd gone over every other phase of my "stupidcide" mission about a bazillion times. But this part...the part about stepping off a freeway overpass, and hoping to land on a speeding truck below...
Drop.
Count.
Ping.
I just hope Galileo was, and my physics texts are, right. Because if they're not, then I'm going to fall a lot faster than the pennies I’ve been dropping. The last thing I wanted to do was arrive early. The second last was arrive late. I now see why stuntmen make big bucks for this kind of thing.
This morning, I went to school, in body at least. My head certainly wasn’t there. Happily, I had no scheduled tests nor pop quizzes in either high school or “higher school,” which most people call “college.”
Good luck!
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