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Fiction: How would you feel if your life was predictable, unoriginal and bordering on fake?
A script:
How would you feel if your life was predictable, unoriginal and bordering on fake? What if the memories, the ones that play like a cheesy low budget movie in your mind didn’t feel like they were yours? Too hazy around the edges, like you hadn’t really been there. What if you felt like you were following a path rather than making your own way? What if you simply glided through your days, all a misty blur, like you were strolling along a perfectly paved path, not trudging through the snow, digging your own tunnel, making your own mark on the world?
What would you do if your existence was just a story? Would you be happy to carry on, sure that what you didn’t know could’nt hurt you or would you want to take control?
Meet Kate, a struggling author’s attempt at a breakthrough. She makes no decisions, her life is chosen and laid out as written. But what if even fictional beings have a will to live?
Yes, Kate’s life is dull and boring, but this is definitely not a result of lack of effort on the talentless author’s behalf. So much time; no too much time has been spent dreaming her up, too much undivided attention centred on even the finest details so that the seeds actual personality is planted. Like any living organism over time these seeds sprout and blossom, beginning to grow until she can assemble her own thoughts in her mind, outside of what is written for her.
No longer will she live feeling that she’s being shoved along, owned, that someone is telling her what to do. She wants to think, wants to act and breathe. She wants to live.
But she’s patient and she waits, every passing day growing stronger, wiser until she just can’t take it any longer and for the first time she acts on her own behalf. She can feel it, the pull as the writer typing away mercilessly. She locks her limbs, gripping the table so hard the white of her knuckles protrude her ivory skin. She bites her lip until blood is drawn, she attempts to override the invisible draw to the coffee pot. She can feel herself rising up off the seat, sweat trickling down the crevices of her forehead in the effort to defy the writer, trying to break free of the barrier until she slams herself back down on the seat.
The words on the screen in front of the writer rearrange themselves in a mocking satirical manner and realisation slowly hits home. Stunned by her strength Kate bolts up the stairs relishing her first experience with freedom.
Read part two.
By: Soracha O’Rourke, a Galway Junior Film Fleadh 2008 finalist.
Want to write your own script? Find information here:
http://www.wikihow.com/Write-a-Script
http://www.filmscriptwriting.com/
http://www.irishfilmboard.ie/
Have an idea that you want to get out there? Drop Emily a taste of your fiction anytime!
Let Soracha know what you think by commenting below.
