Someone's In My Head (WATTYS AWARD WINNER 2015)

Chapter Twenty-Four (Pt. 2)

I couldn't help it. I shrieked like a sissy, with Phil and Lenny chorusing along with me. "HOLY SHI―"

POOF!

I opened my eyes. Amazingly, I was still in one piece, not a splat of blood and bones on the concrete alleyway below. The not very glamorous part was that I was dangling with one hand from the ledge of the opposite building, with my chin scraping against the rough brick surface. The even shittier part was my unmanly shriek had attracted the attention of the Agent Smiths below.

"Up there!" I heard one shout. "Don't let him get away!"

"So much for the 'high possibility of landing safely', huh." I spat at Lenny as I struggled to maintain my grip on the rough concrete. My left hand, cut by the numerous concrete bits, was already slipping precariously.

"It was actually a fifty-fifty chance," Lenny admitted sheepishly.

Just when I was deciding whether if I should just give up and drop to my death, a gloved hand appeared above me.

"Grab on, you pussy," Layla ordered.

I grabbed her hand gratefully.

With a grunt and a few scuffles, Layla pulled me to safety. As I lay on the concrete roof, huffing and puffing, I turned to Layla and gave her an impish grin. "Really? 'Pussy'? That's the worse you can come up with?"

Layla ignored my jab. "We gotta keep going. Those men in black might already be climbing the stairs of this building as we speak." Then, before waiting for me to reply, she took off.

"Men in black, huh." I mused, scrambling to keep up. "Never thought you're a Will Smith fan."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Good. Cause we're about to jump again." Layla announced.

I stopped dead in my tracks. "Again?!"

I had to say that it sure was a nerve-racking experience, with all those consecutive death-defying (or life-gambling, depending on how you wanna perceive it) leaps. Based on Layla, once you got over your first leap, the following leaps will be much easier. Well, I don't think so, because I thought the last leap was the scariest―we had to jump from a two-storey building to a lamppost and slide down to the ground. It might sound easy, but one wrong move and you'll be skewered to the pole like a shish kebab.

Needless to say, I was scared shitless.

Phil and Lenny weren't much of a help either. Phil was more accustomed to trotting on the ground with a ton of gear on his back, and Lenny led a pretty sedentary lifestyle dealing with viruses, brains and dead people. So they pretty much hung around in my head, issuing snide comments whenever they saw fit, and did a pretty good job at deflating my confidence.

Now, for you optimists out there, fret not, it's not like this cloud of mine had no silver lining at all. The one good thing is that my leap improved every time I picked up the guts to make the jump. My timing perfected, my leap widened, and my parkour roll smoothened out.

In fact, I even did an impromptu pirouette as I came sliding down the lamppost like a professional pole dancer. I was so hyped up that if not for the dire circumstances, I swear I would've followed up with a classic Michael Jackson squeal.

Layla gave me a lopsided smile as I jogged over to her side. I could tell that she was impressed. "Still you said you'd never did parkour before." She accused.