by Sue Johnson
Jed stared from the balcony across the waste ground where the old cooling towers stood. It had seemed simple last night when he’d accepted the dare.
“Just climb to the top and you can be part of our gang.”
“Yeah – cool,” he’d said, his reply fuelled by cheap cider.
He’d heard the others snigger as they walked away. Later he heard about the two lads who’d died trying the same thing.
Jed knew they didn’t want him. Nobody did. He’d thought things were going well with Sylvie, but she’d not been answering his texts.
He gazed up at the grey sky wishing for something – he didn’t know what – that would take him in a new direction.