Futile Trials

(21) Lil Peeper

A bit further down the alley way, there's a slick runged ladder, waiting just for you, and up you climb without a second thought. The first level window is black: the people inside soundly asleep. Another level you scale, undeterred, to find your pursuit rewarded.

Their television is set up directly across the room from the window, and there are no shades in the way. A clearest view.

Of the tv, and of you.

You've only been watching for a few minutes when a young man, the only apparent occupant of the room, stands. He appears to be headed toward his shabby little kitchen when he sees you. He looks startled, but only for a moment. His shock is hotly overcome with a stern gaze as he moves toward the window with long strides. For every step he takes forward, you take one back.

But you're already out of space. He's got the window open, thrusting one leg through, and you have only began clambering down the thin ladder rails.

Eyes on the rungs, your focus is on hustling your way down, so you don't notice when the man is upon you. He grips onto your wrist, your fingers still curled around the top rung.

His hands are a firey heat on your frigid skin. It sounds like he might have been yelling something, calling you a street rat, a scamp, but how could you hear under the sound of your foot slipping on the rain slicked rungs?

You're falling backwards in spite of his vicious grip; you're falling in spite of that vice wrapping tighter to try and stop you from falling.

But you're just a street rat.

And the man couldn't get a grip fast enough, so the street rat falls.

Do you...

Try to grab onto the rungs?
Skip to "(39) Desperately Falling"

Fall?
Skip to "(40) Hopelessly Falling"