Day 39 – Bad Day – Short Story

I guess you could say timing is everything, or nothing, really I guess it’s relative to what you want it to be, for me it’s nothing but frustration at its highest level. I’m going off on a tangent here I know but when you miss an opportunity because your timings off it causes more hell than it’s worth. Take this moment for example, three seconds ago I dived out a window, unfortunately for me the window happened to be on the twenty-second level of this stupidly fucking high building, I mean why the fuck do buildings keep getting so high? I guess right now you’re asking why? It’s a good question and I have the perfect answer, but you’re not going to like it, because it’ll make you look at me differently, and you’ll see my perfect exterior is not as perfect as I like to make it out to be. Now I’ve had my share of problems, we all do, but mine led me here, falling uncontrollably towards the ground with nothing but a huge chunk of flesh protecting me. I thought I’d be able to make amends for the shit I’d done, I thought that part of my life I thought was behind me, but it wasn’t. Not thanks to Reggie Kildone, who burst into my house four hours ago and held my wife and son at gun point while he dictated to me how the next twenty-four hours was going to go. Apparently Kildone had a problem with some up and coming mobster by the name of Davie Townsend, Townsend and his crew had been muscling in on Kildone’s turf for the last few months, and it had started hurting him. He of course fought back and both sides from what I’m to understand lost numbers, but Kildone was the biggest looser, shame it wasn’t in the waste line, and was forced to flee underground, and Townsend and his men took over his high rise.

So where the hell do I fit into all this you ask? You see, for about twenty years I was Kildone’s cleaner, the man he sent in to do his dirty work. But five years ago I walked out when I found out my wife was pregnant, I changed a lot of things in my life right around then. I made good choices, took a real job, worked hard and made it my mission to provide for my family and be a good father. I was doing well until he showed up.

Kildone wanted me to remove Townsend from the equation, otherwise he would remove my family, I felt stuck, I wanted to kill the fat fucker, but his heavies made it hard and I didn’t want to risk Mary or Jonathan’s life, so I agreed to his terms, I would remove Townsend and he would then fuck off from my life forever, he agreed and I secretly agreed to myself to put a bullet in that fat fucks head as soon as it was all over. I guess the fall from twenty-five stories may interfere with that, but if I survive, he’s going to eat my fist.

Anyway, I got my shit out of storage, never really wanted to part with it, even though I needed to, and went to Kildone’s old high-rise. Townsend’s men were heavy on the exterior, I guess war does that to you. And the man himself was inside, with whatever whores he could manage to fit. I didn’t know the boys at the door and they didn’t know me, so I thought maybe I could get through, they weren’t buying it, three short manoeuvres later and I was walking through the doors and his boys were taking a long nap. I had to be quick, the stairs were the best option, so I took them. What a fucking mistake, twenty-five fucking flights of stairs, yeah, years ago I would have been able to handle them, but today, now, I was fucked, so I took a rest, STUPID FUCKING MISTAKE. The door to the stairs crashed open and six of Townsend’s thugs came storming out and it was on, I took a few hits, but these boys were street thugs, they fought with their fists, I on the other hand fought with guns, and soon I was standing in the stairwell, covered in blood and brains. I didn’t wait around this time and stormed through the door, and as expected they started to open fire, the slightly overweight thug’s body I brought with me through the doorway acted as good protection, not excellent, but good, a shot or two got through, but I kept on moving, I had made my mind up even before I got here that this was going to be quick, I ran though the center room and headed for the window tossing the bag towards them as I went, for a moment the gun-fire stopped as I went crashing out of the window. They must have realised something was wrong as it never started up again, but that could also be because the pack took the top off the building, and here’s me, gripping as tightly as I can to the fat fucking thug, waiting for the ground to meet us, and it does, with a watery embrace. As I climb out of the pool I can’t help thinking, I’m going to kill that fat fuck Kildone.



4 thoughts on “Day 39 – Bad Day – Short Story

    1. Thanks, I really enjoyed writing this one, it was a lot of fun and I’ve already got an idea for where it heads next. This is my Die Hard, well that’s what I’ve been calling it 👍


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