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Sept 2006

YOU'VE NEVER SEEN A WRITER DO THIS
by Jacob Sanders

I thought that I would try something a little different this month. No, not going beyond that ands a raves I carry on about, but something completely original. For the most part we writers like to keep our works under wraps, which, in a lot of cases is the smartest thing you can do. It's safe.

I'm choosing to go against the grain on this for a bit. I have been working on a new screenplay that I'm not quite sure how it will appeal to people. So I thought this may be a good way to get and honest response.

I'm only posting the first 10 pages, though. I mean, come on, you know I can't give you the entire thing at this point... So, read and enjoy, or hell, critique it for all I care. You will never see another writer do anything like this. This is a risk most are too afraid to take. Me, I love the chance factor... Oh, and to let you know, all is copyrighted with the Writer's Guild.

FOREVER HOLD YOUR PEACE
by Jacob Sanders

INT. A DEN – EARLY EVENING

FADE IN:

MAN

(reading)

“With the blood of would-be strangers upon my hands and clothes, I slowly dipped deep into the rushing river, and out of the sight of my captors. Hiding from my sins, in hopes of conducting my own self-baptismal...

But, cut down like the falls harvest,so too was my own life. Ironically, I am drowning. For I cannot swim amongst the pure.”

GARLAND DERMENT, a man in his early thirties, sits staring at a computer screen. His eyes show accomplishment. We see the the screen is filled with words in the screenplay format. An empty bottle of whiskey sits next to him on the desk, along with an abundance of packs of cigarettes.

Next to his desk sits an acoustic guitar. He hits the 'enter' key a few times, then we see him type in the last of the words.

INSERT- COMPUTER SCREEN

'FADE OUT'

A sight smirk comes over his face.

GARLAND

It's done. Three months, but it's finished.

We see him save his works onto the hard drive and then hit the print button. The screenplay proceeds to come out of the printer. He stacks them neatly. We see the cover page.

INSERT- COVER PAGE

FOILED AGAIN by GARLAND DERMENT

Garland stands, tightly holding the script in hand. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

GARLAND

Time to celebrate.

He attempts to pour himself a drink, but the bottle's contents are no more.

GARLAND

Shit.

He stands and begins to walk to his kitchen. He passes his window. He looks through his den window to see the sun setting. He notices that his NEIGHBORS are loading their belongings into a moving van. Garland walks out of his den. He sees that his front door is standing open.

EXT. GARLAND'S HOME – EVENING

We see that he lives in an upscale quiet neighborhood. The houses are very nice and well-kept. Garland stands there watching his neighbors loading objects. He exits his house, pulling his door shut. In his front yard lay months of newspapers that were never brought inside. He has to kick some out of his way to clear a path.

GARLAND

Hey, Mr. Warick. I didn't know you were moving.

MR. FRANK WARICK, an older man in his fifties, stands there looking tormented; Almost scared. He says nothing.

GARLAND

You okay?

MR. WARICK

We're leaving before anything else happens.

GARLAND

Why? What's wrong?

MR. WARICK

I suggest you do the same, Derment.

Garland approaches the man.

GARLAND

What the hell you talking about?

MRS. GLADYS WARICK, wife of Frank, comes out of the front of the door, leaving it wide open. She has tears in her eyes. She carries a stack of photo albums. She clutches a wilted bouquet of flowers.

MR. WARICK

Is that all of it?

Mrs. Warick nervously nods her head. She turns and gazes sadly at the house.

GARLAND

What's going on?

MR. WARICK

Garland, you've been a good neighbor. I wish you the best.
(to his wife) Shouldn't you shut the door?

MRS. WARICK

What would it matter?

Garland notices that the entire aura of the surroundings is and eerie quiet. He looks around. Almost every house has FOR SALE signs in the yards. There are no lawn decorations anywhere at any of the properties. No cars are in the driveway. No lights are on anywhere.

Mr. Warick seems to just stare into empty air.

GARLAND

Gladys, what's going on? Where did everyone...?

MRS. WARICK

You are a brave man for staying this long.

GARLAND

What do you mean?

MRS. WARICK

Are you a religious man?

GARLAND

I used to be, but, see I--

MR. WARICK

You should start being again. If you plan on staying, that is.

GARLAND

Where did everyone go?

He points to all the empty houses.

MR. WARICK

Well, I suppose they smartened up. Got out quick... Haven't seen you for quite a while. Where you been?

GARLAND

Working on a new script for the past couple of months.
I usually don't leave the house much when I get deep
into my writing, but, uh... So what's got you so rattled?

MRS. WARICK

You mean, they haven't been bothering you?

GARLAND

Bothering me? Who?

MRS. WARICK

We're not sure.

MR. WARICK

I'll tell you something. (beat)If I'd have known, I would
have never bought property in this god-forsaken
neighborhood. I only hope what they say isn't true.

GARLAND

What do you mean?

MR. WARICK

That they can follow you.

GARLAND

I still don't follow.

MR. WARICK

The haints.

GARLAND

Haints?

Garland looks skeptical and confused.

MRS. WARICK

Franklin, can we please go now?

MR. WARICK

Yeah... Garland, you're a young man...

Mr. Warick looks at his home, then his eyes move toward the FOR SALE sign that swings in his front lawn.

MR. WARICK(CONT'D)

Next thing you know, you're time's almost up.
We sell our days. Yet, we can't buy 'em back.

The couple gets into the moving van and start the engine.

GARLAND

Well, where are you moving to?

MR. WARICK

Don't know. Don't care.
(beat) Anywhere but here... You take care now.

They pull off. Garland watches them, as they travel down the road. He then notices that most all the houses that he had just gazed upon now have their doors ajar.

GARLAND

Where the hell did everyone go?

He turns to go back inside. His front door stands open. He walks to it and shuts it, still standing outside. He opens it and inspects the hinges and the knob. He finds nothing unusual. The wind picks up. He walks down his driveway to his mailbox. He opens it. It is stuffed full of letters, bills, junk mail, etc.

He pulls out a handful and shuffles through them.

GARLAND

Should check this more often.

VOICE

Garland.

He never takes his eyes off the mail.

GARLAND

Yeah?

No response is heard. Garland turns and looks curiously around.

GARLAND

Yeah?

Nothing. He shrugs it off and grabs all his mail. It almost fills arms. Up on his sidewalk, he stumbles on a small pile of newspapers. He does not loose his balance. He walks toward his front door. It is open, again.



INT. GARLAND'S HOME – HALLWAY – EVENING

In the background, Garland sits on his couch, playing guitar and singing a soft melody. In the foreground, on the table, we see the pile of mail. On the top is a state-issued advertisement. It reads:

HAVE YOU SEEN ME?

Underneath it is a picture of Garland, along with a description.

MISSING SINCE MARCH 15, 2006

EXT. GARLAND'S HOME – SIDE YARD – NIGHT

All is quiet. Not even crickets are heard. Dead silence. Not a single light is glowing anywhere, except for a single streetlight in the far distance. It begins to flicker, then burn out slowly. We pan to Garland's window and see him sleeping on the couch with the television on. The TV begins to loose reception. It flickers as well, then goes to complete static.

We here a SQUEAKING sound. Like metal on concrete. A moment later we hear the soft deep-humming of an elderly man. It is a spiritual hum. We see that is is an old African-American man slowly pushing an old wheelbarrow down the road. The cart seems to have dirt and a shovel in it. An old kerosine lantern hangs from one of the handles. It is cracked, but yet still illuminates the area around him.

He continues to HUM. He leaves a trail of mud behind him.

INT. GARLAND'S HOME – FAMILY ROOM – NIGHT

Garland, laying on the couch, suddenly wakes up. He listens. He hears the HUMMING. He stands and walks cautiously to the window. He pulls back the curtain to see the man with the wheelbarrow slowly walking down the street. Garland drops the curtain and quickly steps to his front door. As he goes to grab the knob, the door opens up slowly, as if he were pulling it open, but he is not.

He steps out onto his porch.

GARLAND

Hey! Excuse me?!

The man does not turn; Still humming.

GARLAND

Sir, I---

MAN

(almost singing)

I am drownin'. For I cannot swim
with the pure. Oh, no...(humming)
Into the the rushin' river, down I go... Hmmmmm.

Garland looks very confused, as he watches the man continue down the road and out of sight. He stands there for a moment.

He shuts the door and moves back toward the couch. He sees the static on the TV and begins to fiddle with the cords and bang on it's side. The reception finally clears up.

GARLAND

Damn cable.

Garland sits. His eyes grow weary. They close. Beat. He begins to softly hum the same tune as the man in the street. He drifts asleep. BANG! Garland jumps. BANG! Garland drops to the floor cowering. Bang, bang, bang!... The front door is slamming open and shut.

Garland witnesses this event. He shows fear.

CUT TO:

MORNING

Garland waking up on his couch. The TV is on with good reception. He is sweating. It takes him a second to realize everything is fine. He looks around. Everything is normal. His door is shut and locked.

GARLAND

A dream.

We see him stick is arm underneath the couch. He is looking for something. He pulls out the script. He holds it tight. We can see something is now bothering him.

INT. GARLAND'S DEN – MORNING

Garlands sits at his desk. The script is sitting on the desk next to him. He looks worn-out. He has a telephone up to one ear.

His eyes never leave the script.

GARLAND

(on phone) Marco, it's me.

On the other line, we see a sleek-dressed man sitting in a high-rise office building. This is MARCO SHIVERS. He clearly has a great occupation.

MARCO

Garland? Garland is that you?

GARLAND

Yeah, it's me.

MARCO

Where the hell you been, man. We'vebeen looking all over for you.

GARLAND

You know, just been hiding out working.Which is why I'm calling.

MARCO

Man, it's good you called when you did. I was beginning to wonder if I'd
lost my best writer. Thought I'd have to scout out the internet to find some talent.

GARLAND

No, I'm not going anywhere. Listen,I just finished one hell of a story.

MARCO

Oh, yeah?

GARLAND

Yeah, it's just, see--

MARCO

How soon can I read it?

GARLAND

Whenever. It's done. I just need a favor.

His attention is diverted to a stack on notes he has complied on his desk. He flips through them.

MARCO

What's that?

GARLAND

I need you to contact Leonard for me. See if he wants the lead.
I had himin mind the entire time. Couldn't picture anyone else.

MARCO

Leonard? Leonard Davens?

GARLAND

Yeah, I want him.

MARCO

Didn't you hear?

GARLAND

About what?

MARCO

Don't you read the paper? Or watch TV?...
Lord knows you don't answeryour phone.

GARLAND

Well, I, uh, can't good reception...Fucking cable company.
Seventy bucks a month and--

MARCO

I'm sure the studio sent you a letter.

GARLAND

Yeah.

He looks at the mountain of mail.

GARLAND

Anyway, what happened?

MARCO

Leonard quit.

GARLAND

He quit? Acting?

MARCO

Yep.

GARLAND

Why would he do that? He's headed toward the top!

MARCO

GARLAND

Jesus Christ. Well, who got shot?

MARCO

For God's sake, you really haven't heard about any of this?

GARLAND

No.

We can see the terror in Garland's eyes as he hears the details.

MARCO

Jesus... I can't believe it. Avril Mannings. He got hit in the lung.
Died right there on the spot. Trent Cowers... Dead.
Christine Morris, she was shot four times, right in the back...

GARLAND

Christine Morris? Who's she?

MARCO

A new-comer. It was her first big role...
A couple stunt men werehospitalized for a few weeks,
but Gerald Worth still lies in a coma.
They don't know when or if he's ever gonna come out of it.

GARLAND

Oh my, god! Shit. That's terrible.
So what about Leonard? How didn't he get hurt?

Long pause, as Marco somberly recollects.

MARCO

He was the one doing the shooting.

INT. MENTAL HOSPITAL – CRIMINAL WING - DAY

... interested?... We'll you'll just have to wait it out. You will see it all soon enough.

Thanks for reading:

Jacob Sanders