Jump (1,361 words) - Writers Forum

Heid · 05-06-2008, 06:26 PM

This is probably the quickest I've ever written a first draft. It just seemed to write itself. The ending is a bit rushed I can appreciate. Any feedback is welcome:

*****************************

He threatened to jump.

“I hate my life!” it sounded like he was saying. He was very high up you understand.

“Don’t try to stop me!” such cliché words.

I slithered my way through pockets of the crowd to give myself a front row view of the scene. The unanimous crowd peered up and was watching the young (or old…hard to tell) man balancing on the edge of the multi-story car park some seventy feet high. Many of the audience members were gasping in shock and muttering rumours to each other. Some of them had their phones out and were making calls to certain people who were unfortunate enough to be missing out. All without once taking their eyes off the potential suicide victim. Yeah, as appalled as they were to see a human being threaten to spread his insides on the tarmac below, they just couldn’t seem to look away.

Strange that, isn’t it?

“Out of the way everyone!” A voice bellowed from behind.

I looked back through the forest of on-lookers to see a fluorescent yellow figure come sliding through whatever pseudo-gap was made for him. It was a police officer. The scene was now complete. Not only was there a – constantly increasing – crowd of people with the best seats in the house to watch a suicide, but if the man fell and failed to kill himself he would be arrested by the establishment and charged. Charged for what? Attempted littering? Halting the flow of shoppers rushing to get to Marks & Spencer’s? Lying? (“Sir you made a statement about ending your life by leaping from the roof of a multi-story car park. However, on cross-examining your battered body in the hospital we discovered that you were very much breathing.”)

The Policeman was tall and bulbous, like a glowing neon light bulb come to rescue the poor man in distress. He stood by my side and I could hear the smooth vinyl of his jacket rub against the hairs of his arms. It was loud and ran through me like the sound of someone running their hand over that plastic covering you get over furniture when it first arrives at your home.

He fixated his vision on the silhouetted man still balancing precariously over the edge like it was some sort of magic trick. The kind David Blaine would do. Only with less on-lookers. I could see up the policeman’s nostrils and could make out vague hints of a moustache trying to burst its way through his skin pores. He raised his hand up to his lips and pressed them against the mouthpiece of a megaphone. It was smooth and polished to perfection; half blue and half grey like a middle-aged man’s jumper.

“Sir!” the policeman wailed up to the sky. “Please do not jump.”

He enunciated each word with finesse. Maybe this was his first time trying to talk a suicidal person into not doing the obvious, or maybe this was his field of expertise. Maybe he passed “Suicide Jumping 101” with flying colours with a distinction in “Megaphone Public Speaking”. He continued to coerce the man into not making a mess on the pavement where passers-by were trying to get past. I don’t exactly know what he said to him to try and convince him to stay alive because quite frankly I was not paying attention to the policeman, or the surrounding bloodthirsty crowd. I’m sure he no doubt told him that he had so much to live for and that suicide wasn’t the answer.

How did he know? How did any one of them know what this man had been through in order to come to the conclusion that leaping off a tall building was the only answer left? For a man to wantonly climb to the highest point in town with the intention of jumping off the edge in order to kill himself, it must be a serious situation. Or a desperate one at least.

But no one knows what he went through to reach this point in his life. No one seems to care either.

I decided that the time had come for the audience to get what they came for. Having noticed the policeman had placed the megaphone down on the ground by his feet, I took the opportunity before I missed it. Making sure that the crowd still had their focus on the doomed male I painstakingly bent down and lifted the megaphone up, being careful not to make it clatter against the ground through fear it may cause sound to reverberate and draw attention to me.

Hiding the megaphone behind my back I sought safety from the officer by pushing my way back through the audience. I could now see the kind of people that had stopped in their tracks to watch the on-going scene. Single mothers with nowhere they needed to go had gone so far as to put their prams on their brakes to take a look at what was going on (one sorry sight of a parent had lifted her toddler up so she could see). Old men who had been disturbed on their way to the pub had managed to find a vantage point behind the single mothers and were no doubt taking bets with each other. All people from varying backgrounds and social statuses were congregated in eager anticipation. It was as though the act of a single man threatening suicide in a crowded town had caused the social divide to crumble and at that point in time the world was as one.

Sad isn’t it?

I gasped immensely as I emerged out the back of the crowd like I’d just been underwater and leaned back up at the man on the car park.

“Jump!” I announced through the megaphone.

The vibration of the instrument ran through my fingers and made my arm tremble. People’s attentions were suddenly broken away from the man and every face looked in my direction; horrified, stunned, some even angry.

“Jump!” I said again. “JUMP! Give these people what they came for.”

Before the last echo had time to die out, another officer – who had probably been watching the unfolding scene from behind the crowd – placed a powerful grip on my shoulder.

“Stop it!” he shouted. “Give me that!”

I struggled with his grip and loosened myself tearing my t-shirt slightly. I backed away from the officer approaching and the, now even more appalled, crowd and made another attempt:

“They don’t care about you or your problems. Give them what they fucking want! Jump you bastard!”

That was as far as I could go. I was wrestled to the ground by a big bear of a policeman. His forearm landed on my abdomen with the force of a falling brick and the air in my lungs was pushed out me like whoopee cushion being sat on. It became difficult to breathe but the officer running the show (though the suicide man was no doubt the star) hoicked me to my feet and held my arms behind my back. My weapon of protest was seized.

“You’re under arrest son.” Said the burly policeman.

“I know.” I said.

***

I was eventually charged £80 for disruption of the peace and standing in the way of police work.

“What work?” I asked them without even the slightest hint of sarcasm. “A man wants to kill himself and you try to stop him. Isn’t it you who was standing in the way of his work? Shouldn’t you be charged with disruption?”

They were less than impressed with my statement, but an £80 fine settled out of court was worth it I reckon.

I never did find out what happened to the man on the car park roof. I did check all the local newspapers the next day but there was no mention of it. So I came to the conclusion that he was ushered down after all. Nobody wants to read about a person who is healthy and living. Unless they’re a celebrity.

So I guess the crowd of onlookers left the scene unfulfilled and disappointed. But don’t worry people Wife Swap is on tonight.

Zensati · 05-06-2008, 10:42 PM

No. this doesnt work. If you are telling a story from a first person perspective you have to work alot harder to make it interesting.

LolliAdverbs · 05-06-2008, 11:19 PM

I haven't anything good or bad to say about this. It is sort of just there.

The idea that someone is telling him to jump is a great idea, but there is something that just doesn't pull the whole thing off. It's probably because the narrator is first played off as a passive character, and seems like the type to just watches what happens.

Raging_Hopeful · 05-07-2008, 02:46 AM

This story makes me think of Dennis Leary:

"God..

"I'm just not happy. I'm just not happy. I'm just not happy because my life didn't turn out the way I thought it would."

Hey! Join the fucking club, ok!? I thought I was going to be the starting center fielder for the Boston Red Socks. Life sucks, get a fucking helmet, allright?!

"I'm not happy. I'm not happy."

Nobody's happy, ok!? Happiness comes in small doses folks. It's a cigarette, or a chocolate cookie, or a five second orgasm. That's it, ok! You cum, you eat the cookie, you smoke the butt, you go to sleep, you get up in the morning and go to fucking work, ok!? That is it! End of fucking list!

"I'm just not happy."

Shut the fuck up, allright? That's the name of my new book, "Shut the Fuck Up, by Doctor Denis Leary. A revolutionary new form of therapy." I'm gonna have my patients come in.

"Doctor, I.."

"Shut the fuck up, next!"

"I don't feel so.."

"Shut the fuck up, next!"

"He made me feel so much better about myself, you know? He just told me to shut the fuck up and nobody had ever told me that before. I feel so much better now."

Whining fucking maggots."

------

And now for my in-depth critique of your story

Quote:

He threatened to jump.

“I hate my life!” it sounded like he was saying. He was very high up you understand. This is always a hard voice to pitch and I think the story is stronger without it. Try "'I hate my life!' It was difficult to hear him, teetering high above on top of the parking garage roof. Disgusting." Something like that instantly defines your character and tells the reader how he feels about this supposed jumper.

“Don’t try to stop me!” Such cliché words. Don't use the word "cliche." How about: What a liar!

I slithered my way through pockets of the crowd to give myself a front row view of the scene. The unanimous crowd peered up and was watching the young (or old…hard to tell) This is starting to lose the reader's interest. Being vague can look very sloppy as it does in this case.man balancing on the edge of the multi-story car park some seventy feet high. Many of the audience members were gasping in shock and muttering rumours to each other. Pretty bland description. Let's get some focused details: The blonde closest to me was telling a rather attractive redhead that the man perched on top of the garage had overdosed on acid. Some of them had their phones out and were making calls to certain people who were unfortunate enough to be missing out. All without once taking their eyes off the potential suicide victim. Cut. Yeah, as appalled as they were to see a human being threaten to spread his insides on the tarmac below, they just couldn’t seem to look away. Kind of a sloppy comment: As appalled as they were supposed to feel about the potential to see a dead body cracked up on the sidewalk, they just couldn't look away. It was like Oprah Winfrey had grown a third boob. The kind of stuff that makes headlines. Everyone wants to be in a headline.

Strange that, isn’t it? Again you're giving voice which could work if you tighten up this piece but as it stands just looks sloppy.

“Out of the way everyone!” A voice bellowed from behind. It'd be better to describe the voice if you're going to take this approach: bellowed a loud male voice.

I looked back through the forest of on-lookers to see a fluorescent yellow figure come sliding through whatever pseudo-gap was made for him. There's either a gap or there isn't. The crowd would certainly make room for a police officer. It was a police officer. The scene was now complete. Not only was there a – constantly increasing – crowd of people with the best seats in the house to watch a suicide, but if the man fell and failed to kill himself he would be arrested by the establishment and charged. Charged for what? Attempted littering? Halting the flow of shoppers rushing to get to Marks & Spencer’s? Lying? (“Sir you made a statement about ending your life by leaping from the roof of a multi-story car park. However, on cross-examining your battered body in the hospital we discovered that you were very much breathing.”) This is good but don't put it in ( )s.

The Policeman was tall and bulbous, like a glowing neon light bulb come to rescue the poor man in distress. He stood by my side and I could hear the smooth vinyl of his jacket rub against the hairs of his arms. Blah an uneeded description. It was loud and ran through me like the sound of someone running their hand over that plastic covering you get over furniture when it first arrives at your home. This description does nothing for the plot, you already described him as a neon light bulb which is much better than these following lines. Scrap em.

He fixated his vision on the silhouetted man still balancing precariously over the edge like it was some sort of magic trick. The kind David Blaine would do, only with less on-lookers. I could see up the policeman’s nostrils and could make out vague hints of a moustache trying to burst its way through his skin pores. Blah, cut it.He raised his hand up to his lips and pressed them against the mouthpiece of a megaphone. It was smooth and polished to perfection; half blue and half grey like a middle-aged man’s jumper. Cut.

“Sir!” the policeman wailed up to the sky. Stick to "said." “Please do not jump.”

He enunciated each word with finesse. Maybe this was his first time trying to talk a suicidal person into not doing the obvious, or maybe this was his field of expertise. If he spoke with finesse it would suggest that yes, he has done this before. Personally I'd scrap this too. Maybe he passed “Suicide Jumping 101” with flying colours with a distinction in “Megaphone Public Speaking”. He continued to coerce the man into not making a mess on the pavement where passers-by were trying to get past. Cut this: You could summarize by saying, "He continued to try and coax the man down but I was no longer listening. I don’t exactly know what he said to him to try and convince him to stay alive because quite frankly I was not paying attention to the policeman Obviously he is otherwise there wouldn't be so much description of the situation. or the surrounding bloodthirsty crowd. I’m sure he no doubt told him that he had so much to live for and that suicide wasn’t the answer. This is long and drawn out, wholy unnecessary.

How did he know? How did any one of them know what this man had been through in order to come to the conclusion that leaping off a tall building was the only answer left? For a man to wantonly climb to the highest point in town with the intention of jumping off the edge in order to kill himself, it must be a serious situation. Or a desperate one at least. This is all very speculative and since the first person voice DOES NOT CARE, why should the reader? If he later tells the man to jump, he should certainly have a voice reflecting this opinion. We all can infer that suicidal people are desperate people so we don't need a paragraph pondering it.

But no one knows what he went through to reach this point in his life. No one seems to care either. Again, so?

I decided that the time had come for the audience to get what they came for. Having noticed the policeman had placed the megaphone down on the ground by his feet, I took the opportunity before I missed it. Cut. You make this action very verbose and why would the policeman put down his megaphone? Surely he still needs it so the man up top can hear him? Making sure that the crowd still had their focus on the doomed male I painstakingly bent down and lifted the megaphone up, being careful not to make it clatter against the ground through fear it may cause sound to reverberate and draw attention to me. This move seems to be an impulsive one so it would make more sense ot have him lunge for it and then run, shouting his instructions as he did so.

Hiding the megaphone behind my back I sought safety from the officer by pushing my way back through the audience. Verbose and uneccessary. I could now see the kind of people that had stopped in their tracks to watch the on-going scene. Single mothers with nowhere they needed to go had gone so far as to put their prams on their brakes to take a look at what was going on (one sorry sight of a parent had lifted her toddler up so she could see). Whoa watch your P's and Q's. In this sentence alone you are suggesting that single moms have nothing better to do than submit their children to horrors? And how would you know that they are single mom's anyway? If you're sticking to 1st person, you have to stick to perspectives that only he could know. And single mothers are NOT sorry sights. Old men who had been disturbed on their way to the pub had managed to find a vantage point behind the single mothers and were no doubt taking bets with each other. Were they or weren't they? Surely your speaker has eyes doesn't he? Also, if he's confiscated a megaphone from a COP, surely he's more concerned with getting his task completed before he is caught and arrested? All people from varying backgrounds and social statuses were congregated in eager anticipation. Vague and uninteresting. It was as though the act of a single man threatening suicide in a crowded town had caused the social divide to crumble and at that point in time the world was as one. Ugh, there has to be a better way of phrasing this awkward sentence. "The one act of a man threatening suicide had managed to attract the attention of a well-suited man, a bedraggled drunk, and a meter maid all to congregate together in awe."

Sad isn’t it? Cut.

I gasped immensely as I emerged out the back of the crowd like I’d just been underwater and leaned back up at the man on the car park. Er? You don't gasp immensely. "I emerged from between a particularly tight squeeze between Elma from the bakery and Fred from the shoe shop and gasped, rubbing my side. Elma had sharp elbows."

“Jump!” I announced through the megaphone. I said.

The vibration of the instrument ran through my fingers and made my arm tremble. People’s attentions were suddenly broken away from the man and every face looked in my direction; horrified, stunned, some even angry. Even? Of COURSE they're angry! So cut it and just state that some were angry too.

“Jump!” I said again. “JUMP! Give these people what they came for.” How about some insight to what the voice is thinking at this point? Surely he must have some motive or loathing?

Before the last echo had time to die out, another officer – who had probably been watching the unfolding scene from behind the crowd – placed a powerful grip on my shoulder.

“Stop it!” he shouted. “Give me that!”

I struggled with his grip and loosened myself tearing my t-shirt slightly. "I struggled with his grip and jerked away, ripping the sleeve of my shirt as I did." I backed away from the officer approaching and the, now even more appalled, crowd and made another attempt. At this point he better be running 'cause I guaran-f'ing-T that the cop would be charging him full throttle at this point.

“They don’t care about you or your problems. Give them what they fucking want! Jump you bastard!”

That was as far as I could go. I was wrestled to the ground by a big bear of a policeman. Which one? You've mentioned two cops thus far. His forearm landed on my abdomen with the force of a falling brick and the air in my lungs was pushed out me like whoopee cushion being sat on. Unnecessary. The visual of the brick is better. It became difficult to breathe but the officer running the show (though the suicide man was no doubt the star) hoicked me to my feet and held my arms behind my back. My weapon of protest was seized. Verbose. "Now winded, the cop easily hoisted me to my feet and seized my weapon of protest."

“You’re under arrest son,” said the burly policeman.

“I know.” I said. Cut.

***

I was eventually charged £80 for disruption of the peace and standing in the way of police work.

“What work?” I asked them without even the slightest hint of sarcasm. “A man wants to kill himself and you try to stop him. Isn’t it you who was standing in the way of his work? Shouldn’t you be charged with disruption?”

They were less than impressed with my statement, but an £80 fine settled out of court was worth it I reckon.

I never did find out what happened to the man on the car park roof. I did check all the local newspapers the next day but there was no mention of it. So I came to the conclusion that he was ushered down after all. Nobody wants to read about a person who is healthy and living. Unless they’re a celebrity.

So I guess the crowd of onlookers left the scene unfulfilled and disappointed. But don’t worry people Wife Swap is on tonight.

I'm almost tempted to say scrap the entire last part. It really adds nothing to the story. It would be better to have the guy jump and splatter him with blood and brain matter. Then at least the voice would have the complex psychological issue of having to deal with causing someone's death. Or did he cause it? Dum, dum, dum! As it stands your voice is very one-dimensional and there are some perspective issues. Less is more. Keep writing!

Cheers,
Linz

Heid · 05-07-2008, 03:18 AM

Thanks for the feedback. Man, first drafts really are terrible aren't they?

I probably should have given it a once over before I posted it here. The idea came to me after what someone said on a message board about a similar situation.

Thank you Raging_Hopeful, you've given me LOTS to think about

Raging_Hopeful · 05-08-2008, 12:23 AM

Heh. First drafts are just that - firstly and never last. It's a process but yes, once overs before posting are always encouraged... or else you get posts like mine

Cheers,
Linz

gesaelig · 05-08-2008, 12:00 PM

I rather liked that last part. At least, I don't think making the guy jump (giving the audience/readers what they expect/want) would work.