-Miles Woodcock-Girard


























Routineof One Jack Baczewski


August 4, 2011.


The black digital clock beepedloudly with its industrial chime of that virtual church bell song. JackBaczewski woke up in a dull grey, though high-class apartment complex. His eyesrested on the white ceiling of his large apartment suite. He stared straight upat his suite’s ceiling for about five minutes then sighed. It was a dry wallceiling, which had perfectly aligned squares, but then Jack noticed thecrevasses and cracks, which dominated the fine white dry wall.

Jack looked over at his opencloset. It was unorganized and cluttered as usual. He then looked out hiswindow. The sky was very dark. While still lying in his rather new bed with itsstainless steel frame and white sheets, Jack glanced at his alarm clock. It wasexactly 3:07 am. Jack coughed loudly as he slowly got out of his bed, for heknew he had to go to work soon. As Jack put on his finely made tuxedo pants, helooked out his window. Through the clean white curtains, Jack could see thecity. It was peaceful, calm, and quiet. There were no cars rushing by, nolights on in the nearby apartments and the cold sweet smell of Chicago air.Everything was peaceful.

 Jack then put his belt on. As he quickly slidthe belt through his pants’ loops he looked around his bedroom. Jack didn’thave any lamps or lights (for Jack thought that it ruined the view). He had adesktop computer which was always on the frits. To the left of his bed, Jacksaw his shiny black and silver stereo. He would often listen to classicalmusic.

Jack then looked in his mirror ashe put on his white undershirt. Jack had jet-black hair with green eyes. He wasalmost dangerously thin and had a very thin face. Jack didn’t have any facialhair. For some reason none would ever grow. No matter, Jack didn’t care for abeard. He was a very pail man with little pigment in his skin. Jack noticed thefaint red marks and small circular whitish scar on his side from when he wasyounger. He remembered both so vividly, but Jack cast that thought away, for hecouldn’t have that on the mind at work.

 As jack finished buttoning his tuxedoundershirt, he saw the picture of his dad sitting on his nightstand in themirror. Jack didn’t want to remember, or look at his father today.

Jack was now fastening on his tie.He then put on his tuxedo over shirt thinking to himself about his job; abouthow he earned his position. Jack then looked over at his alarm clock. It was 3:23and Jack was going to be late for work. He quickly rushed out his white frontdoor with its shiny black doorknob. Then Jack stopped, clutched his tuxedo beltand felt nothing. Jack forgot something and he knew what it was. Quickly, herushed back into his dull apartment, walked over beside his bed to hisnightstand, opened the drawer and took his most prized possession.  Jack then rushed out of his apartment glancingat parts of his living area as he went. When he closed the front door, lockedit, and looked around to see that no one was there and he fastened his .45pistol in the back of his belt.

As Jack rode the large elevatordown to the first floor, he thought about how his life was going. Jack knewthat he was a very successful business man, even if his business included somerather harsh taxing methods.

“I’m simply a ruthless businessman,” Jack said to himself. Fortunately it was straight to work today. No stopsand no detours. As Jack walked out of this elevator, he coughed a little. Therewas a man at the front desk of the apartment complex, which would alwayscollect rent. Jack saw him and walked rather casually to the desk. This man’sname was Sean. Jack didn’t like nor hate the man. Sean was a heavy-set Irishman with grey hair. He was reading the Chicago Tribune as always. Jack read theheadline on the front page of the paper. It read “An LAPD DetectiveDisappears”. Jack acknowledged the headline with a rather satisfactory smile,and then looked up at Sean. Sean was scratching the stubbles on his darkenedface with bright blue eyes twinkling as he saw Jack. He was wearing his whitemuscle shirt with faded jeans. Sean also clearly looked as though he couldprobably handle himself in a fight, or perhaps already had.

“Top of the mornin’ to ya, Jack,”Sean said in a thick Irish accent as he looked up from his paper. “Yer rent’sahead of schedule as usual and, as usual, yer up for the earliest work hours inexistence,” Sean said as he chuckled slightly at his joke. Jack didn’t laugh,but kept walking, acknowledging Sean with his usual fake smile.

“And why are youup so early?” Jack asked in a very calm voice.

“The damn kids woke me upagain and I couldn’t get back bliss of sleep” said Sean. He then looked at hiswristwatch and said, “Christ, boyo! Yer gonna be late if ya’ don’t rush!”

Jack looked at his diamondlined watch. It was 3:32. He sighed.

“Goodbye Sean, I havebusiness to attend to,” Jack said.

“Bye-bye-bye sir Jack,”said Sean rather cheerfully.

Jack nodded as he rushedout onto the streets of southern Chicago. As Jack looked for his car in theuneven grey parking lot, he caught site of the overhanging highway, whichalways needed maintenance. He saw the grey, concrete buildings with graffitiall over them. It was difficult to make out the writing, but it read thingslike, “Fuck you,” or, “Change now.” Jack laughed. All I see is typicalteenage angst. He sighed. He didn’t remember where hisautomobile was as usual. Jack reached for his cigarettes in his tuxedo pocket.As he put it in his mouth, lit it, and began walking around the plant linedlot, Jack remembered that he left his car at work the other night. He wouldhave to go as low as to call a working class cab driver for a ride to workagain. Jack rushed over to the sidewalk, as a taxi rather conveniently droveby. Jack signaled to it by holding up two fingers and the cab pulled to a stop.Jack noticed that this car was lightly rusted, and needed maintenance. A ratherfat man with a cigar was at the wheel.

“Hey I got a really tightschedule, so can ya’ hurry it up kid?” this man said in a Chicago accent.

Jack was often mistakenfor a young adult, though, in reality, Jack was forty-seven. He opened the cabdoor and swiftly got in. Jack noticed that the interior was torn and there wasa bad smell in the taxi. He grimaced. Jack loved this city, but the majority ofits people were just so uncivilized.

As the cab began to speedup, the taxi driver turned on the radio. It was jazz.

“Could you change it to41.1 please my good man?” Jack said in his polite voice.

“Sure thing, kid,” saidthe cab driver as he pressed a black button on his car radio. Beethoven beganplaying, “You gotta’ be kiddin’ me, kid. You seriously li-“

The cab driver wasinterrupted by Jack tossing a fifty dollar bill onto the dashboard.

“I mean, uh, yeah, I likethis music,” said the taxi driver as he greedily took the money, “so, where ya’headed, kid?”

“Just go north until I saystop,” said Jack in an irritant tone.

“Sure thing, kid,” saidthe man driving.

Jack sat forward in hisseat to look at himself in the car mirror and noticed that the cab driver wasstaring at him. When the driver noticed Jack was looking at him, he lookedaway. Jack turned his head from the mirror, as he opened the car window. Jackstuck his arm out the window and tapped his cigarette a few times to get theash off the end. He yawned loudly. It didn’t take long for him to doze off.

Jack awoke with a startfrom a train going by on a railroad above. Conveniently, He was two blocks awayfrom his workplace.

“Stop right here,” saidJack to the cab driver as he looked for his cigarettes almost frantically.

“Sure thing, kid,” saidthe cab driver and stopped in front of Jack’s workplace. It was an enormousmodern building with windows on all sides. It was a major contrast to all theshort apartments and small business buildings. Jack took a few seconds to rubhis eyes and then stepped out of the cab. He swiftly handed the driver a tendollar bill and was walking off when the driver yelled,

“Are you serious!? You’renot giving me a tip!?”

Jack stopped and lookedback with a blank face,

“If you want a tip, you’vegot to earn it,” He said, “Taking a bribe is hardly earning anything from me.

“But you offered the damn-“ The cab driver noticed that Jack was giving him a calm acrimonious look andstopped talking. As Jack turned around again, He heard the cab driver beginningto drive off. As this happened, Jack thought he heard the driver mutter“asshole” as he sped away. Jack hardly cared, but kept walking towards thismassive high-rise. Jack walked towards this building when he saw his car.Ah there it is. It was a sleek Black Lamborghini. He rummaged hispockets for the key to this skyscraper, unlocked the door and walked throughthe large lobby with a clean tiled floor. I simply relish getting herehours early. The peace, the quiet, and most of all, no one is here other thanme. This building’s interior had a particularly old English look to it,despite the modern exterior, which gave off a wonderful atmosphere. As Jack walkedthrough the enormous lobby, the satisfying sound of his Testoni shoes againstthe marvel floor echoed throughout the room. Jack was at the elevator now. Hepressed the “up” button and waited, as he thought that he might take a shortnap when he got into his office. Suddenly, the elevator door opened and Jackstepped inside. There were two mirrors on each side of the elevator, which werefacing each other, causing the multiple person effect. Jack then pressed thebutton labled “40” on it. It took about three minutes to finally reach the topfloor.  Once there, Jack stepped out ofthe elevator to be greeted by a quiet modern looking room with a dark greycarpet and windows on all sides. By glancing out the windows, Jack noticed thatit was twilight outside. Jack slowly walked to a desk. It was a very organizedCEO desk with a large name plate on it, which read “Jackin M.Baczewski”. This name plate was a constant reminder to Jack ofhis satisfying position in his job and of how long it’s been since Jack was anemployee for his former business.

 Jack sat down in his black leather chair, puthis feet up, slowly gave in to his somnolence, and fell into the ethereal voidof dormancy.

Jack awoke with a startfrom a man standing in front of him.

“Mornin’, Jack. Beautifulday isn’t it?” said the man in a cheerful British accent.

It took Jack about threeseconds to fully awaken and see who stood at his desk. It was hisvice-president of the company, Alastair. Alastair was a tall lean English manwith short blonde hair. He was cleaning his eye glasses with his Teal coloredHandkerchief. Jack turned his head to look out the large window. It was veryfoggy with a hint of rain outside.

“Indeed it is, Alastair,”said Jack in a monotone voice. Jack knew Alistair was reckless, but he got thejob done. Though, Jack knew Alistair was young. He’ll be more subtle whenhe’s older.   Jack knew that Alistair was the best at whathe did, Other than himself. Alistair was: slightly cocky, clever, headstrong,and most of all, He was good at everything he did.

“Did you complete theassignment?” inquired Jack, suddenly turning his chair from the window.

“Yes, we’ve got the chap.”

“You never fail me,Alistair. Thank you,” Jack paused, “Is he talking?”

“He said that he hasn’tfound any evidence on you yet, but if he doesn’t return, they’ll suspectsomething,” said Alistair in a slightly worried tone.

“Kill him, but please makeit look like an accident this time.”

“Yes sir!” said Alistairin a Cheerful voice.

As Alistair left the room,Jack put his feet up once again and fell into a dream recalling past events.



 Hello! This is all I have so far. I am 13 years old and have been writing since I was 4. Please tell me what you think!




rapn21   rapn21 wrote
on 4/19/2012 6:10:46 PM
Not too bad but it takes a while to get going. The mystery around Jack is good and I liked the way we were slowly fed bits of information, but it was a bit too slow. While I am intrigued to know more, I still know too little to really judge

Novel / Novella
writing thedurganflurgan
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Rating: 6.0/10

A book in progress by Miles
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