Thread by @TheThreadTweets

Day 1

Happy New Year!
Time to get up and begin your journey to a new you!

He stared at his wrist through shocked, bloodstained eyes.
5:00
Was that even a time?
He yawned, took a deep breath and rolled over, back to sleep . . .

‘I SAID GET UP!!!’

Day 2

Yesterday’s steps: 7,891
Not good enough!
Today’s target: 10,000

Not good enough?
It was 6,000 more than usual - and hungover!
Talking of which . . .
Jake reached under the bed and shakily poured himself a liquid breakfast.

“NO ALCOHOL!”

The glass shattered in his hand

Day 3

Thump-thud thump-thud
Stinging soles slap tarmac
Beneath gawping amber lights
Hot breathclouds into fogfrost
Heavy heart drags heavy legs
On and on
Through stubborn silent streets
And on
And down
To electric white
Tunnel
Where a dark figure stands
Waiting
Again
. . .

Jake raised his head from a sweat-drenched pillow and stared into the dark, blood banging in his ears.
His jaw tightened as he slowly twisted his bandaged hand towards his face. Every inch of his body ached.

Yesterday’s steps: 8,910
Today’s target: 12,000
Get up. Get out. NOW!

“Where the hell did you get this thing, Tash?”
“What thing?”
“This smartass-watch I’m skyping you on right now! The one you left under the Christmas tree before you went off on your little fashion shoot!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jake. I didn’t get you any watch.”

Day 4

Jake sank into the sofa

‘Steps: 9,101
Don’t stop’

What was he doing? This was crazy!

‘Keep going! Fitter, faster!’

That’s it, he thought
I give up!
Bye, you f**ker, wherever you came from!
He tugged the watch strap
But it wouldn’t loosen
If anything, it became tighter

Day 5

“Ashes to ashes, dust to . .”

Jake scowled at the stony swirls traced by his Gucci loafers
He could barely hear a word from back there
Fair enough
His choice

“He wanted you to have this.”
Jake twisted the small paper parcel in his fingers . .

WAKE UP JAKE! GET MOVING!

Day 6

Jake didn’t do Sundays.
Not vertically, anyway.
Sunday was a designated recovery time from whichever vices he’d indulged the night before.
It certainly wasn’t meant for pounding the streets like a lunatic before sunrise.
Not that he could stop.
The watch wouldn’t let him.

His lead-legs ploughed through puddles and drunks, the cold strap squeezing his wrist if he slowed
Then the tunnel
Almost home
Sudden sweet weakness filled his limbs and he stumbled
And tumbled
He tried to get up
But couldn’t
A heavy black boot held him against the cold concrete

“The watch!”
“I can’t!” Jake coughed, the blade tickling his throat.
“Now!”
“Really!” squirmed Jake, frantically tugging at the strap. “See?”
Suddenly the hooded face twisted sharply away.
“You?” it cried. “What the . . ??”
Fevered steps flew away.
And Jake was alone.
He hoped.

DAY 9

“Hey Jakey, where you been? I tried to call.”
The door opened a little wider.
“Jesus, you look like a ghost!”
“I called in sick. On my watch.”
“You didn’t call, Jake.”
Didn’t he?
He couldn’t remember.
He couldn’t remember much about the last few days.
Only running . . .

Day 10

Every day he ran a bit further.
A bit faster.
But it was never enough.
12,000
tick
13,000
tick
14,000
Tick tick tick

‘Don’t stop, Jake. You haven’t reached your target yet!’

But what was his target?
Why was this stupid watch making him do this?

‘You have a call . .’

. . “Hey Dad
I know sorry, work’s crazy right now.
Yes, I know you only live half a mile away.
Six months, really? Doesn’t time fly?
Yes I’ll see you next week.
Yes I know it’s your birthday.
The Red Lion, yes.
OK gotta go.
No, I won’t forget.
Yes, I’ll definitely be on time . .”

GET UP OFF YOUR SOFA!

NOW!
GET OUT!
GET RUNNING!
NO WAITING!
NO EXCUSES!
GO!
NOW!

FITTER!
FASTER!
FURTHER!

FITTER! FASTER! FURTHER!

FITTERFASTERFURTHERFITTERFASTERFURTHERFITTERFASTERFURTHERFITTERFASTERFURTHERFITTERFASTERFURTHERFITTERFASTERFURTHERFITTERFASTERFURTHER . . .

Day 11

Fitter . . Faster . . Further . .

The squawking transatlantic techno twang drove him on and on, the relentless mantra pounding in his head as he pounded through the breathless dawn, day after day after day . . .

“Jeff, you saw him the other day, how’d he look?”
“Bloody awful, hell of a state.”
“What about his girlfriend? Natasha?”
“Tash left him months back, can’t say I blame her . .”
“Well, he’d better get himself into some kind of shape before the presentation or he’s out on his arse!”

Friday night!
Highlight of the week!
Bright nights, bright lights!
Work hard, play harder!
Hard liquor, hard drugs, soft girls . .
Party-time for Jakey Boy!

But now
Lying
Aching
Silent
Staring
Into a cold, dark room
And a cold, dark face
Staring straight back . . .

Jake didn’t believe in ghosts
He wished he did
Things would be a whole lot easier
But he kept the knife under his pillow
Just in case
If it could cut through a wagyu steak like butter, then surely it would work on a ghost
And if not?
Well
He could probably find a use for it . . .

The brochure heralded this apartment as ‘the ultimate in modern luxury living with panoramic city views’
Jake only looked out of the window at night. So he could pretend he was gazing at downtown Manhattan not the ugly grey blocksprawl he grew up in. And his father lived in still

Tick . . . tick . . . tick

. . tick . . tick . .

. . tick . . .

Day 14

‘Fitter faster further’
Bloody watch! Haunting and taunting, pushing him to his limits. Beyond his limits.
“I can’t!” Jake wheezed.
‘You must or you won’t reach it ‘
“Reach what?”
‘Your target’
“What target?”
‘You’ll know when you reach it’
“F**k you, twatting timepiece!”

Jake clawed hopelessly at his wrist.
Where had this hellish device come from?
Was it some kind of sick joke?
The strap was so tight now his hand was as numb as his brain.
He barely ate, he barely slept, he hadn’t been to work in weeks.
All he did was run.
When would it stop?!?

THE LAST DAY

‘Get up, Jake! Today’s the day you reach your target!’

At last!
This had been the longest few weeks of his life!
He pulled on his trainers, hopefully for the last time!
Then he could get back to his life.
Or whatever was left of it.

Finished!
Jake fell hard onto his leather sofa
‘You have a call . .’
“Hello son, you there? Just checking you’re on your way”
Oh crap! Dad’s birthday!
Jake grabbed a Rolex from the bedside drawer. A knock-off but still better than that crappy old Timex his dad had worn since 1956

The Red Lion was a shithole.
One of those awful flat-topped pubs full of flat-topped beer and flat-topped customers.
But it was handy.
Midway between Jake’s dockside apartment and his dad’s council tower block.
Just on the other side of the ring road.
Through the tunnel . . .

As Jake entered the white rumbling cocoon of the tunnel he saw a small dark figure stumbling towards him.
“Dad?”
“Hello son, you didn’t answer so I thought I’d better come and check you were ok.”
Then it was on the floor.
Beneath a hooded man.
With a knife at its throat.

“NO!!!”
Suddenly Jake knew.
He knew what the training was for.
He knew what his target was.
He started to run.
And run.
And before the hooded man had time to react, he was there.
Shoving his father aside.
Feeling the steel inside.
And the running stopped.
At last . . .

“Ashes to ashes . . .”

“Hey Natasha”
“Thanks for letting me know, Jeff. What happened?”
“Christ knows. Suicide they’re saying. Police found him in a pool of blood with a steak knife next to him.”
“Oh God,” gasped Natasha. “Where did they find him?”

“That tunnel under the road near his apartment.”
Natasha gasped.
“That’s the same place his father was killed a year ago! Jake was supposed to meet him for his birthday but he was late. He saw his father being attacked but he couldn’t reach him in time . . .”

“Jesus, that’s terrible!”
“He never got over it,” she choked. “Blamed himself. Kept saying if only he was faster he could’ve saved him. He was obsessed. That’s why I had to leave. It was just too much. And now . . .”
“I’m sorry,” said Jeff. “Look, I need to give you this . . .”

“They found it on his wrist. Took hours to get it off, they said.”

Natasha’s trembling fingers teased open the small paper package.

She frowned as she tipped the contents out and tuned it slowly in her palm.

Why would Jake be wearing an old, broken Timex wristwatch?

THE END