Blog Post #4

This writing is called "Jumper" and it was for a double-perspective project that I did with my partner Julia. After revising the plot and adding in more details I am very proud of this particular piece. The writing is about two characters (Jayme and Salome: told through Jayme's perspective) who seem to have been kidnapped together and have to escape a lunatic. I hope you enjoy it :3

Slowly the puzzle pieces of vision faded back (not that there was much to see anyway) and bit by bit I began to figure out where I was; it appeared to be some sort of storage room. Moldy boxes and forklift flats were haphazardly lined up against all four walls and the paint was severely cracked and chipping in every square inch. Holes were formed where the walls met cold, hard, concrete floors that made me suspect rats. My thoughts flashed back to when I used to live in a room like this; I was maybe twelve and living on my own by then. Knock it off, this isn’t a pleasure cruise.

First I examined myself for any sign of injury; I prodded for any sensitive areas and checked my limbs for function. Nope, still intact. I think. My toned frame was sore from lying in a peculiar on the concrete for who knows how long. My Filipino complexion on my skin appeared to be undamaged. The only abnormalities I could find were the knees of my denim jeans were more worn than I remembered when I put them on the morning before; I must have been dragged to wherever I was being held. Okay. Now find a way out.

My squinting eyes scanned the dim space for means of escape. Through the darkness I could barely make out a small crack about two feet wide with the most minuscule amount of light poking through.

I scrambled up to run at the door and within seconds toppled over an unidentified figure sitting up on the ground. Popping back into a fighting position I threw my hands up in defense.

“What the…” I scurried away from the unknown person’s position on the floor. “Who are you?” I shouted sternly in the direction of the other body in the room with my eyes lost in the oppressive darkness. “Tell me now or...or I’ll shoot!” If there was ever a better time to bluff I couldn’t think of one; but I did think of all the times I called that bluff because someone was giving me trouble while I was with Miguel.

“Woah calm down, I’m Salome,” a high-pitched and annoying-sounding voice huffed as she scraped herself off the ground. Vaguely I saw the shadow of a moderately tall girl with a head full of perfectly curled hair. I could hear her dusting off herself and clicking the heels of her stilettos. Great. Of all the people to be abducted with and I’m stuck with this girl. I hesitated before engaging in a response.

“I’m Jayme. Do you know where we are?”

“Gee, nice to meet you too. And no, I do not.” Salome jerked up quickly in realization. “Austen? Austen are you there?!” Her voice cried out.

“Who’s Austen?” I questioned her.

“HE IS MY FIANCE AND--oh my God...I’m all alone in some weird warehouse, kidnapped by some creepy guy in a taxi and I’m stuck with a complete stranger! This is a nightmare...I must be dreaming,” Salome began to wring her hands and pace around the room.

“This ain’t no dream, sugar. C’mon.” I turned on my heel and walked cautiously back towards our exit, hopefully. I examined the door and felt around for the lock; a small deadbolt that must’ve been held together with rust. The wood smelled moldy and went soft when I pushed outwards on it.

“Stand back.” With a swift kick the door burst open easily.

“Wow, that was, uh, kind of scary. Where’d you learn to do that?” Salome awed.

“I picked it up as a kid. C’mon.” I stepped out into the shadowy, long hallway and scanned for signs of possible danger. We made a sharp turn and ran straight into a middle aged man.

“Where do you girls think--” My right hand caught his unsuspecting jaw before he could finished; I watched as he collapsed to the ground unconscious. Salome stared at me with her mouth agape.

“What’d you do that for?!”

“It’s called instinct and reaction.” I blew a lock of dark hair from my face and rubbed my throbbing knuckles.

“He could have helped us get out! And from the looks of you we’ll need as much help as-”

“Shush. Recognize this?” I pulled out a wallet with a taxi license, Salome’s cell phone that had a case that had a picture of Salome and, who I assumed was, Austen, and a receipt for a kid’s meal and a fry from McDonald’s. “He’s the guy that must’ve picked us up and taken us here.”

“Oh...okay you can lead the way from now on, But give me that.” Salome snatched the phone from me and looked longingly at the back of the case, yearning for her fiance.

“Loverboy isn’t going to help you right now,” I paused. “Did you take a taxi last night?”

“Uhm, yeah. My car has been in the shop all week and Austen has been out of the city for business. You?” Salome looked at me quizzically.

“No. But I was just walking the backstreets last night trying to get back home to my son, Miguel.” I shot a disgusted scowl at the person on the ground. “He must’ve been really clever if I didn’t hear that little--”

“Okay okay, I get it. So what happens now?” Salome was startled by movement on the floor. The man I had knocked out began to stir.

“Run.” I commanded and immediately darted to the opposite direction of our abductor.

“Wait, my shoes...I can’t leave them behind,” I shot her back a dirty scowl and she stiffened. Her whiny voice started to annoy me. I wore the same pair of beat up Converse for the last 6 years because I couldn’t afford anything of that luxury. This girl looked like she could spare a house or two let alone a pair of shoes. With an exaggerated sigh the heels clattered to the ground and we took off.

We wove through a series of hallways at a desperate speed. Every one looked just like the other. I tried to keep track of the turns so we didn’t end up in the same place again. Left, left, right, right, right, left, right; I didn’t speak and I made split second decisions. I felt like a mouse trapped in a maze of some twisted human experiment. I could hear Salome further back huffing and lagging behind me.

Sometimes I forget that not everyone grew up running their whole life.

I was snapped from my personal haze by shots fired from inside of the maze of halls; I heard bullets scraping and bouncing off of the metal walls along with the shrill shriek of my companion. I looked back to see the paper-thin girl crouched in fear on the floor. Salome looked up at me with watery and fearful eyes. The same innocent eyes I used to look at in the mirror; but this poor girl probably had never left the safety of her apartment or her family before. I never had that opportunity growing up in the slums. I shook off the infecting memories before they encroached my judgement and dulled my instincts. We dashed away from the penetrating gunshots.

Salome surprisingly picked up speed as well when I quickened my pace. We maneuvered our way through more hallways while hurdling flipped boxes and abandoned manufactured products. Gunshots and undecipherable shouts echoed off the walls and surrounded us in a cloud of anxiety. After toppling over an overturned box I came to a stop in front of a door.

It looked like our kidnapper must have had shot open the lock to break into the warehouse. Through the deadbolt sunlight seeped into the darkened fortress. I pushed against the door and my feet touched the concrete of a sidewalk and up ahead I saw a bridge leading over a gushing river; on this side lied capture and, on the other, lied escape. Freedom. I started running towards my hope when after a few yards my heart dropped like a stone.

There was no other half of the bridge. No other way out of this horror story. Every lesson I’ve learned from the streets flooded into my head: run, attack, attack and run, find another way out, run more, don’t trust anything but yourself, just keep running. I couldn’t stop the tide of memories spewing from my past. It was Salome who pulled me out of the current.

“Jayme...what do we do?” Salome’s voice cracked in fear; she must have seen that the rest of the bridge was missing too. I turned my gaze to the water beneath the bridge.

It just might do, I thought.

“C’mon. The bridge, we can jump from there.” I snapped back to Salome.

“I am not, after I’ve lost my good heels, got chased by some crazy guy, ran through a warehouse, and just escaped some place in the middle of nowhere going to DIE jumping off of a bridge.” Salome protested fiercely.

“Listen to me very carefully. If we don’t jump of that bridge neither of us are going to see anyone we love ever again. That madman will not hesitate to kill us, so, we can’t hesitate at the chance to get away from him,” I held the same tone with her that I did with Miguel when we were on the run from a few thieves late at night in our neighborhood. Salome reminded me so much of him.

“How do you know we’ll even survive the jump?”

“Because I’ve done it before in worse situations. Just, trust me,” I stared back strongly into Salome’s eyes.

“Okay,” she nodded.

“Do what I say and we’ll live. If we die today it won’t be from the jump. It’s deep enough, I promise.”

We sprinted to the very middle of the bridge and stood over the chasm below. The water seemed to churn with quicker speed than I had anticipated. I didn’t tell Salome that; we didn’t have any other options.

From behind us the door to our prison burst open to reveal our captor. The husky middle aged man with a newly-placed shiner on the left side of his face and noticeably long sideburns that came down to his jawline. The rest of his face was red with fury and he breathed heavily through his flaring nostrils.

“And WHAT EXACTLY are you ladies doing?” The man stepped out of the building with a shaky and unbalanced stride. “You think I’m done with you two pretty girls just yet?”

“Stay back! Or...or we’ll jump!” Salome shouted back and grabbed ahold of my arm. She was shaking ferociously.

“Take one step and you both go down, missy,” our attacker pointed his gun towards us. I recognized the make and suddenly recalled everything I could think of what could help us.

That particular gun was the same gun in the drawer beneath the register at my tattoo parlor; it only held eight bullets at a time. I racked my mind trying to detect a possible bluff. One, two three...I think it’s been seven. I decided that this was the only card I had left to play.

“He only has one bullet left,” I whispered quietly to Salome without taking my eyes off of the gun.

“What are you talking about?” Salome began to turn to me and i constricted her arm.

“Don’t look at me, stare at him and trust me. Where I hit him is going to screw up his vision for awhile so chances are he’s not the best shot and can’t hit a semi truck 100 feet in front of him. When I give the word I want you to step back and jump,” I took a breath and reassured her, “You’ll get to see Austen again soon. Ready?”

“What are you two young women whispering about, eh? Why don’t I just come over there and we can all just head back inside?” The man stepped forward and lowered the gun a few inches.

“Now.”

Salome and I pushed ourselves backwards off the ledge and we heard a single gunshot bang in the air.

The cool wind flapped past my leather jacket and my limbs flailed at every angle. For a split second I stole a glance of Salome. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she constricted my arm. Our bodies splurged into the frigid depths of the rapids and we tumbled helplessly through the rush of the current. I was struggling to keep my head above water long enough to breathe. Salome and her death grip were jerked away from me and were nowhere to be seen in the bewildering abyss. I was adrift and I was alone.

After some time the unceasing current slowed to a gentle flow and I swam to the closest shoreline. I was breathing heavily when Salome joined me shortly after, though I could barely make out her drenched figure through the growing darkness. Wait...wasn’t it just daylight?

“Oh my God...Jayme,” Salome covered her hand with her mouth as I felt a sticky substance and a numbing pain seeping from my side. I tried to twist my head to see what happened when I heard my only son’s voice.

“Mommy? Mommy can I have my toy now? I finished all my apples. Please Mommy? I’ve been good all day I swear!” Miguel begged me while shaking his empty McDonald’s bag in front of me.

“Miguel? Sweetheart is that you?” I tried to call out to him but my voice cracked and words adhered in my parched throat. My hand darkened with red raised to reach for Miguel as I whispered quietly, “Love, come back to me. Come back.”

“No, no Jayme stay with me. Oh God, no,” Salome’s voice became muffled as I rushed to meet the ground. My head turned towards my son prancing around with his plastic Transformer still in the wrapper. My mouth opened but nothing came out. Slowly, a dark cloud covered my eyes and Miguel was gone.

I thought that this is the piece so far this year that I have really focused on characterization and done it well; especially with Jayme's perspective of herself. The internal thoughts in italics enhanced the images and realizations throughout the plot of the story. The characterization of Salome was dynamic; her character changed from a dependent and privileged fiancée to berpydoopydap. Her new found strength and bond found through her trials with Jayme is clearly shown when she talks back to he kidnapper and her dismay when she realizes Jayme's imminent death. The diction surrounding the character's descriptions were higher level and really brought this scene to life.