English

Creative Writing Contest

Winners 2018

LMC Creative Writing Contest Winners Reading May  2018

Poetry Winners

  •  Emily Lechuga
  • Anna Horrocks
  • Hillary Scott

Prose Winners

  • Akila Briggs
  • Melissa Whitlatch
  • Jorden Bonwell

Script Winners

  •  Hillary Scott
  • Jacob Jones
  • Michah Judah

Read their work, published below!

 

  • Poetry Winner

    Emily Lechuga

     

    Addiction

    A million going in

    A million going out

    Not knowing what’s going on

    Or what they’re about


    Out of the boat

    in the sea


    Swimming in the deep end

    Alone cold and afraid

    Rushing to my mind comes

    Every mistake I’ve made


    I need you now

    Can you hear my cries

    Pulled me out and

    dried my eyes


    Wrapped his arms around me

    Put my head under his chin

    Not minding the water

    Dripping from my skin


    Found the warm again

    As he held me close

    In a field of daturas

    You were my rose


    Harmless and numb

    The best life so far

    Happier than ever before

    No need for a shooting star


    Pretty good

    Pretty happy

    Now


    Pretty reckless

    Pretty ugly

    You


    Left me farther into the sea

    Is this what being alive means

    Feeling my skin for the first time

    To see exactly what you see


    Never left my thoughts

    We were always one

    I found out I had lost

    And you had won


    Room 1998

    You grasped my thigh

    Steering a 3 o'clock

    Away from all the pain

    And demons we fought


    Burning hot and cold

    Northern Cali breeze

    Percocets and lemonade dream

    To the days when we were seventeen


    Alone in a boxy car

    With no a/c on

    It’s just our own heat now

    Slowly turning us on


    Gripping my hips so cold

    His thumb sliding past my cheek

    His quiet delicate side

    The slow slurred speech


    Dark as our thoughts would go

    Drowning in conflict and lust

    You know baby

    You’re the only one I could trust


    With these hips

    These lies

    These fragile lips

    Because baby you’re mine


    Lost track of time

    My mind

    Your games

    Let’s just love

    Tonight


    West coast winds

    With a welcoming breeze

    Clearing our windows

    From this sinful sea


    We looked up for mercy

    For we were just seventeen

    Not married or in love

    Just fueled by our own kerosene


    El Waltz de la Media Noche

    He lurks when I’m quiet

    Loud quick and violent

    Swimming in my thoughts

    Don’t know if I can fight it


    Sitting in the back

    Waiting for things to go silent

    Waiting oh so patiently

    Until there’s no way to fight it


    Alas he won a dance

    One for the books

    To remember this night

    Like the rest he already took


    A couple of days go by

    With no invitation

    Thinking he finally left

    But he comes back with a celebration


    Inviting everyone but peace

    Comes all my thoughts

    Fears

    And insecurities


    For those times I thought you had vanished

    Slowly drifted away

    Very friendly they all say

    We have come to say


    Flooding my head at once

    Come one come all

    Gather in a circle

    Don’t trip don’t fall


    Dance the night away

    Our night has just begun

    Oh but please do stay

    You can’t just run


    Oh sweetie don’t be rude

    Dance with everyone

    Don’t forget any

    Or that won’t be any fun


    Demon after demon

    Surrounded by myself

    Realizing

    That I am by myself


    These are no strangers

    I have seen these before

    These are my thoughts

    I had once adored


    Dancing with my demons

    Revealing a different part of me

    That I was too happy to see


    Regret and sadness entered the room

    For I was struggling to breathe

    Locking the doors and windows shut

    Making it hard to leave


    Wishing my tears would swallow them whole

    My demons and I

    Would take part in this whirlpool

    Leaving nothing behind

     

     

    Summer of 17

    Face so warm

    Makes me melt inside

    Singing along

    To the melody of my cries


    Closing my eyes

    Gathering my thoughts

    Seeing a life time go by


    How can this be real


    Smoke slowly filled the room

    Not so lonely anymore

    Flooded with emotion

    I’m not fighting this anymore


    A marathon of chills

    Going down my spine

    He tells me baby

    You look so divine


    Living and finally alive

    Is this how it feels like to die

    Finally at peace inside

    But seeing everyone else cry


    So clean

    Might be make believe

    Too soon for me

    To see

    That this might not even be free

    Temporarily fine

    Subtle and quiet

    It slowly eases my mind

    Just don’t look in my eyes


    Sugar coated countertops

    Strangers made me feel at home

    No name mystery man

    Makes me feel slightly less alone

     

  • Poetry Runner-Up

    Anna Horrocks

     

    Fall

     Maybe this is half being in love with you

    And half being in love with love,

     

    But i’m high on this feeling

    And you won’t get me down,

     

    And as the years pass us by and by

    I want to fall out of love with love

    And deeper in with you

     

     LO:VE

     

    I’ve never been so bright

    And the day I realized I’d fallen

    Into her love, her light,

    Ready to get snowed in

    I wanted to be stuck

    I wanted to stay

    I loved luck

    And I wanted to say

    “I’m in love with you”

    And I wanted to say

    I loved luck

    I wanted to stay

    I wanted to be stuck

    Ready to get snowed in

    Into her love, her light

    And the day I realized I’d fallen

    I’ve never been so bright

     Don’t Lie To Me

     Don’t lie to me

    My life was spun on lies

    A fragile web of them

    Stretched between the words

    They spoke

    And the pain which

    They awoke

    Don’t lie to me

    Lies are thin and weak

    My love is too heavy

    And my heart is too meek

    I’ll fall through

    And through my falling I’ll see you

    As a monster

    Like the ones who raised me

    Don’t lie to me

    Don’t even touch me if you do

    It’s not a joke, not to me

    Say only the words that are true

     

    Don’t lie to me

    I want to trust, I want to love

    Sanity is a line I’d rather not to cross

    A surface your lies will pull me through

    So please, please

    Don’t lie to me

     

     

  • Poetry Honorable Mention

    Hillary Scott

     

    I Will Tell About It

    I tried to forget

    You.

    Left you in an ocean—

    Of guilt,

    But you grew roots

    Around my rib cage.

     

    You are going to do things

    You cannot imagine

    You would ever do.

     

    Close your eyes, Poppies.

     

    You are going to suffer in ways

    You have not heard of,

    You are going to want to die.

     

    Do what

    You are going to do

    And

    I will tell about it…

     

    The Girl Who Cried Wolf

    I should’ve known

     When I met you

     My life would be

    Turned upside down.

     And not the good upside down either.

    The change your life in the worst way—

    Take what’s not yours

     And then run kind of upside down.

     I should have known the signs.

    I should have listened to the white noise.

     I should have looked more closely

     At those perfectly sharpened teeth

     And hateful eyes filled with venom.

    I should have been able to look into that gaze,

    Follow it down to the depths of hell that is your soul.

    I should’ve known Little Red doesn’t get through the forest unharmed.

     I should have known that you were the hunter come to collect.

    But I didn’t know.

    I was blind,

     Naïve.

     I let fear shock me still.

    So still that all I could do

     Was lie back and watch.

     I should have cried wolf.

    I didn’t even have the courage

     To muster anything above a whisper

     So silent

    I couldn’t hear it.

     I was weak under your hold.

     I stood back,

    Watched as you devoured me alive slowly and painfully.

     All I wanted to do was make it to grandma’s house

     Before dark.

     I didn’t make it.

    Little Red isn’t so little anymore.

    When you spit me back up,

     I’d grown—

     Like Jack’s beanstalk.

    I grew tired,

    Old.

    Where that

     Fresh

     Flushed

    Flesh

     used to sit porcelain still,

     Now is cracked and wrinkled.

     The light in her eyes is gone,

     Replaced by a fire that is built to burn

     You to ashes.

    That frail skeletal system

     That once stood

     Is now muscle and bone.

    You see,

     In that short time

     In your abdomen

     I grew strong.

     I grew spite.

     I grew anger.

    I grew hate.

    So thank you

     For chewing away

     At my innocence,

    For now,

     I am wiser than before.

     

 

  • Prose Winner

    Akila Briggs

     

    RED

    The only things in the room, were two chairs, a table, and a harsh white light that hung over you and your interrogator. Dr. Tek, was a stern looking man in his early 50's. Hard lines were etched into his face from years of talking to people. People like you.

    "State your name for the record." Dr. Tek droned.

    "Why?" You retort. " I've told everyone my name already."

    "It's just protocol." He smiled. Or at least tried to.

    You said your name.

    "Thank you. Now , I need you to tell me what happened." His sunken eyes watched you expectantly.

    You tilted your head back and looked up at the light that swung lazily from side to side. "Okay." You said as you began your story.

    ~~

    You remember how it started. You are sitting in the last class of the day talking with the people around you. Caleb to your left, Armando in front of you, Jason to your right, and if he was there, Richard in front of him. You're all talking about your weekend plans and just as you finish your classwork, Caleb snatched your paper. Before you could yell at him, a loud pop rang throughout the school.

    Armando turned and looked at you. "Did you guys hear that?"

    Before anyone could say anything, five more pops rang out. Andrea who sat two rows ahead of you turned around.  "Isn't that the science wing?" The teacher, Mr. Wells got up from his desk and looked out the door and down the hall. "Do you see anything?" She asked.

    "They sounded like gunshots." Jason pointed out. As if on instinct,Mr. Wells began lockdown procedures. As soon as he finished, the principal Mr.Wohill, came on the intercom.

    "Teachers and students. This is an emergency. Please bring in all PE students. The school is now under lockdown." you could tell Wohill was trying his hardest to keep the fear out of his voice but it wasn't working. "There is a dangerous person with firearms on campus. Stay away from all windows and doors." You recalled how his voice cut out as if there was more to say.

    ~~

    "Was there?" Dr.Tek asked.

    "Was there what?"

    "Was there anything he was going to say?"

    "No one knows.” You shrugged. “He was found dead. I never liked him much, that was still no way for him to go."

    Dr.Tek makes a note on his clipboard and looks up at you. "Please, continue."

    ~~

    You all looked around the classroom slightly stunned. Students pulled out their phones and began calling their parents and loved ones. You did the same but only got your mother's voicemail. You gave up on getting a hold of her and called the house. "Mom, kids, I just wanted to tell you… The schools on lockdown." You paused. You didn't want to say that there was a shooting. "I just want to say I love you all… And, I'm sorry. For everything." You hung up the phone quickly and looked around the room. You could you see some of the students crying while others and the teacher looked pale.

    ~~

    Dr.Tek watched you over the rim of his glasses. "Weren't you afraid?"

    "No, I was more in shock and anything else."

    "Why?"

    "I don't know." It was all you could say. "I've always been like that." He made another note and gestured for you to continue.

    ~~

    Mr. Wells was an army vet. He always told tales of the days he spent on the base in Vietnam and how he volunteered for the Gulf and later on Yemen wars and you all took the stories in stride. Now as you watched him switch into army mode many of you were hoping he would be your key to surviving.

    "Everyone quiet." He ordered calling the class to attention. "Everyone needs to be quiet and move towards the back of the class." He moved all of the kids to the back corner farthest from the door. "Don't make any noise at all." Several more gunshots rang out and his talkie began to blare.

    ~~

    "What could you hear?" Dr. Tek asked as he completed his note.

    "They were already finding bodies of security guards and students." You looked away. The thought of it still made you sick.

    After a while Dr. Tek spoke again. "Did you know any of the victims?"

    "Not personally.” You sighed. “But they were faces I had seen every day for the past four years so it's hard not to feel sad." You looked down at your hands. You could still see the blood under your nails.

    "So what happened next?"

    ~~

    "Are there going to be evacuations?!" Mr. Wells asked into the walkie repeatedly.

    "Are we going to die?" Natalie asked, her eyes wide with fear. "I don't want to die."

    Her ex-boyfriend Keith wrapped her and a hug. "You'll be okay. I won't let anyone hurt you." He whispered.

    Mr. Wells grabbed Henri and Jason and pulled them over to where the rest of the class was. "Didn't I tell you both to get over here?" He yelled at them. Their responses were drowned out by gunshots that sounded like they were outside the classroom door. Everyone went dead silent.

    ~~

    Dr. Tek looked you up and down, as if he was trying to read your mind. "So what happened after all went silent?"

    "We heard a few more shots. Turns out it was the security cameras being shot out. Then we heard a key slide into the keyhole.”

    ~~

    You all held your breath as the door opened, but your hope of rescue disappeared when Richard walked in the door covered in firearms, ammunition, and blood.

    "Rich. What are you doing?" Mr. Wells asked as he cautiously stood up.

    "Shut up and get back on the floor!" Richard yelled as he aimed one of his guns at the teacher. The others gasped in disbelief. You saw something moving in the corner of your eye. Slowly you glanced over and saw Mike fiddling with something in his bag. Your attention snapped back to Richard when he yelled at the teacher again. Jason foolishly stood up.

    "Rich. Knock it off. This isn't one of your stupid video games! You-" he was cut off by gunshot. The class screamed in horror as he fell clutching his shoulder. Without thinking, You ran up to him and as you put your hand on his wound, you felt a gun barrel press to your forehead.

    "Get away from him." You looked up and saw Richard looking back at you with dead eyes. There was blood splatter on his face as if he shot someone close range.

    "He needs help Richie. Let me help him." You stare him down but didn't move. Mr. Wells stood up behind you.

    "You don't have to do this Rich. Put the guns down." Mr. Wells advanced but without moving his eyes from you, Richard pointed the gun at Mr. Wells.

    ~~

    "He shot him dead where he stood." You finished talking and watched Dr. Tek jotted down notes. You looked around the room in hopes of finding a clock or something that would let you know how long you had been in this room. When you looked back at Dr. Tek, his crystal blue eyes were on you.

    "What about that Mike kid? What happened to him?" He looked you expectantly.

    You looked at the ceiling thinking. What did happen? "I don't remember him being hurt," you said. "But my back was turned to the door so I didn't see if he left."

    The doctor looked at you again, eyes narrowing. "What was he messing with in his bag?"

    You locked eyes with him and tried to hide a smile. "I'm not at liberty to say. If you want to know, you will have to ask him." Truth be told, what Mike had, was the reason you were there and not in the hospital. Or worse.

    ~~

    You could feel Jason's blood pumping through your fingers. Natalie and other girls screamed as Mr. Wells hit the ground. You didn't take your eyes off Richie. In trying to soothe him, you speak quietly. "Richie. You've killed enough people. Don't let it continue. Let me help him."

    "No!" Richie fired back. "They all have to pay for what they've done to me!"

    Your gears start turning. "What has Jason done to you?"

    Richie looked away. Warren, who usually flew under the radar jumped up and lunged for Richie. Again, a trigger was pulled. Warren tumbled to the ground now bleeding from his leg. Kayla, his twin sister, pulled him back as he screamed in pain.

    "Help them." He said. "Both of them. And don't any of you try anything else like that!"

    You took a moment to collect yourself. You turned to the rest of your classmates. "I'm going to need everyone’s help you guys. Someone needs to take Mr. Wells belt and wrap it around Warren's leg above the shot." You said quickly.

    You continued to give out orders and the class followed as best as they could. Soon enough both boys were patched up. Finally you turn to Richie.

    "Are you satisfied? You have a dead teacher and two students shot." At this point you had lost your cool and you didn't care about Richie's feelings or his guns. "You think you're the only one with problems? Yeah I have things against everyone in here too. You're just a loser and you know it. You think the only way you could handle your problems is with the gun?!"

    ~~

    "I'm guessing Richard didn't take too kindly to that. Did he?" Dr. Tek stated.

    "Not at all." You replied. "He started waving his guns around trying to be scary. But, I was fed up.”

    "Why?"

    "I have many problems too. And I hate it when people take out their problems on others."

    Dr. Tek looked at you. "Let's finish this."

    ~~


    Richie was furious. He unlatched one of his guns pointed it at you. "You don't know how it feels!" He yelled. "Always left out. Always alone!"

    "You don't know anything about me." You fired back. "My life is not as great if you seem to think it is. My dad is in jail, my mom pops up babies like it's her job, and I’m the one stuck supporting five kids under the age of seven. You're lucky to be left alone. All day long, as soon as I get home it's “do this” and do that." You kept going and pacing back-and-forth pretending to be irate. Bit by bit got closer to where Mike had left his bag.

    "And know what the worst part is?" You asked as you reached into it. "My mom doesn't even appreciate when I do for her and my siblings."

    Your hand closed around the cold hilt the gun. You cocked it and turn back to Richie. His back was to you now and you took a moment to tuck the gun into the back of your pants and wait for him. You noticed him fiddling with his shirt.

    "Why does this keep happening?" There's almost a sob in his voice. Almost. "Every time get some type power, people like you take it away from me."

    "You never had any power to begin with." You said sourly.

    Richard turned around and you saw three pipe bombs strapped to his body. He held the trigger in his hand."This is all your fault." He said again this time looking directly at you.

    Henri, who hadn't said anything during the whole ordeal, finally spoke up. "How is this their fault? You're the psychopath." Before Richie could reach his gun, you pulled out yours.

    "So the Hunter becomes the hunted." Richie said slightly amused.

    "Shut up." You stared Richie down as his smile faded. “You think I'm afraid of your gun?" He laughed. "I have a fucking bomb on my chest!"

    You ignored his outburst and spoke to the class. "I want everyone to get up and leave." You said. "Now."

    "If you move, I'm clicking the decimator." Richie threatened.

    "Everyone out." You ordered again. "And leave Mr. Wells there."

    "But he's going to kill us." Kayla tried to argue.

    "No he won't. If he was, he would've done it already." You looked at him daring him to prove you wrong. Slowly students began to leave and Jason and Warren were carried out. Finally the only ones left were you and Richard.

    ~~

    "You saved a lot of people." Dr. Tek said to you in attempted comfort.

    "Yet I'm still being held like criminal." You replied.

    His blue eyes look over you one more time. They looked cold. But then again that could just be a trick of the light. "How many shots were fired between the two of you?" He questioned. You could tell from his voice that he was tired.

    Your lawyer knocked on the window. It was your cue to leave. As you stood and made your way to the door, you look back at Dr. Tek one last time. “None,” you say simply.

     

  • Prose Runner-Up

    Melissa Whitlatch

     D’jin

    My car was parked on a hill overlooking the town. The night was clear except for a creeping coastal fog that drifted harmless above the trees. The moon was full; its proud radiant light casting white fingers upon the road, slicing through the fog giving the mountain tops a look that was out of this world. The hills dipped downwards into a valley, where the small town of Souhaiter la ville, which translates to “Wishing Town” in French, lay nestled in a white blanket of fog, sleeping peacefully.

    Occasionally, some tourists might drive though the area, taking a shortcut to Salem for their Halloween celebration or during the summer for a little fishing and camping. Every other year Souhaiter holds a fishing tournament, the winner gets a grand prize of $200, plus a gift certificate for Lolo’s Gas ‘n Deli. We’ve even had a few well known artists travel through here to do some painting, but I hear that was a good many years ago.  

    Nope, this wasn’t a hardcore tourist attraction, not like them spots out in Hawaii, Mexico, or Canada. This town here was a sleepy town, with an activity level of excitement ranging from 0 to negative 1, if you get my drift.  I suppose the view from up here made up for the drag of the rest of the year.

    There were hardly any lights on down in the town at this time of night.  As the clock on my dash clicked 2 A.M., I stretched my arms out, reaching outwards high above my head while trying to stifling a long yawn. It’s been like this for quite some time now, way too peaceful for an NYPD police detective like me. The peace and quiet in the beginning was a great break from all the hustle and bustle of New York City, but dragging my feet around for the past three months hasn’t exactly been exciting. No, I needed something to happen, and happen soon. I felt like I was going to go insane if I had to take another report about a lost dog named Mr. Snugglekin’s dressed in a pink sweater.

                The radio crackled, “All units report.” The female voice echoed through my speakers. “We have a possible 23152 with a possible 415 D&E and 10-59.”

    A possible explosive and a DUI! Now we're talking!

    Excitedly picking up the mic, my fingers fumble around the squelch for a stronger signal.  My signal had been breaking up in the area because all the trees, usually beautiful but now turned ugly at winter, did a number on my radio connection.  Where’s a friggin' lumberjack when you need one?

     “Manson here. Where’s the 23152?”

                There was a loud static pop before I received my answer. “Wells Court Road, Souhaiter.” The voice responded.

    Before slamming down the mic I responded, “I’m on my way. 10-4.”  

    My sirens thundered overhead, the roar startled a flock of sleeping birds into flight.  My lights flashed an angry red and blue and from my review mirror, reminding me of a UFO landing.

    I yanked the steering wheel into a sharp turn, the wheels screeching behind me as it kicked up dust and dirt. There was a cough from my engine as a small black cloud floated up behind me.  Did I mention that I needed a new car as well? This piece of junk is as old as my daughter, who was about to enter college.

    The gated community, when it came into view, boasts homes that were worth way more than my life insurance policy and pension combined.  A flashy, black Lamborghini painted with silver spider webs was coming up fast; its driver was waving a half-empty bottle of Heineken, while heavy metal blasted from the stereo. The car’s female passenger was half way out of the car, her upper body protruding from the opening in the roof waving at no one in particular, and just before they passed, she blew a kiss in my direction and lifted her shirt for a quick flash.

    A smirk crossed my lips; I couldn’t wait to bust them for DUI. I picked up my radio.

    “Manson again. Roster, what your 10-20? I have DUI on Wells Court. This guys in a friggin' Lamborghini; I’ll need some backup.”

    There was a static cough before Roster’s voice rang out, “Off the 90 Mass. Pike, I’ll be at Wells Court in approximately 5. Rockridge is ahead of you.”

    “Roger that, 10-4.”

    Just as I was going to begin negotiating a U-turn and go after that Lamborghini, a bright light exploded before my eyes blinding me for a couple of seconds as a dust cloud rolled across the street. A thunderous boom followed that, as several windows blew out, including my own car from the explosion. I had to quickly cover my face with my arms in order to protect myself. Glass littered my lap and fell into my shirt.

    My car squealed as I slammed on the breaks, trying not to swerve into a tree as I fought to keep control. Even though the glass was safety glass, the force of my movements shoved tiny pieces into my chest and thighs. The pain hit hard and quick for the moment, then like everything else, faded away as the adrenaline pumped through my system. Smoke rose like an ominous force, covering everything in its path. It was almost impossible to see.  

    “You're coming downtown motherfucker.” I said vengefully.

    My sweaty palms reached for the door handle. I climbed out of the car, my heart racing. This was it! My first bomb scene in this godforsaken town! Just then, a second explosion sent a cloud of dust into the air and sent me ducking for cover, while the wind kicked up and threatened to topple over the trees as they bowed dangerously low.

    A blast of air came over me, reminding me of the videos I've seen of the initial shockwave after a nuclear detonation. My teeth bit down as I slowly inched my way closer, fighting the wind that threaten to knock me down. Turning myself to keep the cold at my back, I moved forward. I heard a cracking noise.

    I looked up just in time as several trees topple over all around me with a deafening crash. The ground shook violently; I lost my footing and stumbled as I tried to regain my balance.

    Then I heard the sound of rent metal. Another tree collided with my car. That’s when I began running. I could see the clearing ahead, my feet pounded heavily as I raced breathlessly towards the clearing.  The shadow of a tree reached me first before the tree’s relentless branches struck me from behind knocking me to the ground. The impact had driven one of the branches deep into my leg, slicing all the way to the bone. The waves of pain carried me into the darkness.

                I woke to find myself blinking up into a purple cloud, where several fairies and dragons spun off into the distance. I heard the mummer of voices, but the spoken words themselves were a blur of unintelligible gibberish.  Blinking several times, I tried to clear my vision of the dragons and fairies, but it was like trying to wake up from quick sand, my mind refused to cooperate.

    “Oh good, you’re awake.” the purple blob said. “For a while there, we didn’t know if you’d make it.”

    Why was there a purple blob talking to me? Where am I and what the hell just happened?

    I tested my legs, wiggling my toes and noted a sharp pain slice through my leg.

    “GAH!”

    “I wouldn’t move if I were you,” the blob said as it moved into focus. That was when I realized than that the blob was actually a nurse. He was bending over examining my injuries as he was writing notes down on a clipboard.

    “Where am I?” I said, testing my voice. It sounded like gravel to me, my throat sore from not being in use.

    “You’re safe,” the nurse said as he pulled the sheet back over my legs. He then reached for my IV, checking the bag. A look of amusement crossed his face, a small smile curving the edges. “You’re thirsty. I’ll be right back with another bag for you.”

    He checked the watch on his wrist, noting the time.

    “You’re about due for another painkiller. I’ll get you started then, while you finish that bag.” He reached for a drawer, pulling out several small bottles, including a needle. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look anymore. I had a terrible fear of needles.

    It took only a few minutes for the drugs to begin to take effect, I could feel it working, my vision clouding once more. The nurse soon returned to his purple blob form as he continued his fussing. “Now, just rest. I’ll be back.”

    “But… I need…to…” I muttered, finding it hard to form the words. “I have a job to do, can’t stay here.”

     “You’re lucky to not have lost your leg, Mr. Manson, now rest, before you start bleeding again,” the nurse said as he opened the door and exited the room.

    I was fighting the miracle drug, trying to remain conscious. I attempted to sit up; my limbs were heavy, aching as I moved. However, before I could work my legs over the side of the bed, the nurse was on me once again, this time his face much harder. He pushed me back, his palm planted on my shoulder. “What did I say? Stop being a stubborn ass and stay in bed.”

    “You’re not living on my paycheck, buddy,” I said, finding myself suddenly awake. I couldn’t just stay here, in bed. That wasn’t my style. “I have work to do, now move aside.”

    “Don’t make me restrain you, Mr. Manson.” The nurse threatened.  I ignored him, my eyes taking a quick glance around the room. I saw a folded wheelchair pushed up against a wall. I slide my foot down, my toes touching the icy floor. Before I could stand up, however, a hand shoot out and pushed me back. “I’m not playing games, Mr. Manson. Stay in bed or I’ll have you strapped in.”

    I bared my teeth at him. “Neither am I. Get your hands off me.” I said, pushing him aside. “I have a job to do; now you either get out of my way or you bring that chair closer to me.” I pointed towards the wheelchair. His eyes followed my hand, but he shook his head. His hand was already reaching towards the red switch on the wall. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr. Manson.” The lights flashed red as soon as he hit the button and a low buzzing alarm filled the room. Within seconds, three white clad men plowed through my hospital room door. They were on me in a second, wrapping leather straps across my chest, arms, and feet. When they left, all I could move was my ankles.

    “You’re not playing nice,” I growled at the nurse as his assistants left the room.

     That night I dreamed of the explosion, the force shook the very earth; boulders the sizes of small cars rolled dangerously close. I dodged them left and right, but tripped over a root to fall face first onto the ground.

    A whoosh was my only warning as fire shot out over me, nearly searing my arms in the process. I rolled away, tucking my arms to my side, as I avoided another narrow escape. I found the clearing, and scrambled as quickly as possible to cover the lengthy distance on shaky legs. When I reached the top, I looked down onto a large house, and saw flames shot high into the sky and a voice carried by the wind reached my ears.

    “I did it…three…three wishes…”

    I woke to someone ranting, “It was me! ME! It gave me three wishes, three…”

    I discovered that the man who had been ranting was the very person responsible for the “bombing”, and was rushed to emergency later on that same evening. He was transferred from ICU and was stationed three doors down from me. While the nurses where attending other patients, I managed to get the wheelchair unfolded and took a little trip down the hall to visit him.

    Having any kind of conversation with the man soon proved to be an interesting challenge.  He was very jumpy and nervous and his eyes kept shifting towards the door, and he mutter under his breath as he rocked back and forth in a fetal position. He wasn’t your normal psycho case, but the CEO of a very wealthy and powerful business. What could possibly bring a man to this?

    It took minutes before Mr. Matthews to acknowledge my presence, but when he finally did, he spoke to me briefly and the question he asked me really took me by surprise.

    “If you had three wishes, what would you wish for?” he said to me.   Then, as if I wasn’t even there he again began talking to himself, rocking back and forth, rambling on under his breath, his eyes just stared up into the ceiling.

    Several months have passed since the bombing on Wells Court in Souhaiter. During that time, I had gone through physical therapy in order to learn to walk again. The cops that visited me gave me the nickname “Wheels”. Har har. Mr. Matthews was transferred to a Psychiatric Hospital. He's still there. I visited him a few times to see how he's doing and to ask him questions regarding that particular night. However, as always, I get the same results: more nonsense rambling about wishes.

    Mostly recovered, I was out the other day at the county fair. Somehow, I was drawn to the crafts area of the fair. I was examining several pieces of artwork and some pottery when a particular booth caught my eye. The shingle across the top of the booth was entitled, “Ancient Ways” and a large purple pentacle was etched into the middle of the sign. At first glance, I mistook it as a little tourist trap, like most of the booths in Salem during Halloween.  However, I felt a pull, almost like an impulse to examine the booth. When I approached, I noticed the owner was a frail looking little Chinese man, with a long silver beard and tiny little spectacles that just cover the tip of his nose.

    His voice when he spoke was very soft, but his eyes held the wisdom of the ages. He wasn’t one to fool, and he wasn’t as brittle as he looked.  I sensed something else about him too, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

    He showed me numerous trinkets and odd-looking items, some made of wood, some of gold, as well as other precious metals. Nothing held my interest except for a ring that sat in an intricately carved wood box, which sat on the shelf directly behind him. The man, at first seemed reluctant to show me the ring, claiming that it was not for sale, but I knew that for the right price he would have no trouble parting with it.

    I couldn’t explain why, but it felt like a haze had descended over me the moment I saw that ring and I just had to have it. It was more like an urge that I couldn’t fight.  It took some major bribing, but eventually he released the ring into my keeping.

    As I stood there triumphantly, I rubbed my finger along the side of the ring, feeling a warmth slowly envelope my palm. I glanced down at the ring and noticed that some kind of writing had appeared on the side, but vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

    I blinked dumbly as I looked at the ring in astonishment. Was I seeing things; could this be real? Perhaps it was just a play of the light, so I pocketed the ring and continued on my way, stopping to buy a hotdog and a cotton candy before heading for my car.

    I tossed my bags onto the seat beside me and climbed into the car, started the engine and drove out of the lot. I had just stopped at the light when my engine started to cough, before finally giving up the ghost and dying on me.

    “No, no, no, not now baby. Come on baby, work for me. Work for daddy. Don’t do this!” I turned the key in the ignition, hearing the engine whine pitifully as it desperately tried to start. It’s done this before, but it’s always started up working again. Today I hoped was nothing different, I was sure.

    I slammed my hands on the dash, leaving an impression in the worn leather.  “Shit! Come on baby, start goddammit!”

    It finally coughed again and with a small spark of life, the engine turned over and my motor sputtered back to life.

    “Whew, that was a close one. I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” I said as patted the dashboard proudly.

     I wasn’t due back at the station till Tuesday morning; having myself a three day weekend. My wife had made plans for the Labor Day weekend; she was holding a barbeque at the beach and several of her co-workers and their families were to attend. Our daughter, Carla, never one for nature or the outdoors had decided to come; she enjoyed the company of her extended family.

    I was about half way home, maybe an hour or so into my drive, when my engine died again. “No! Not again! Come on baby! Don’t do this to me!”

    I pulled the hood release, and carefully made my way to the front of my car and lifted the hood up and stared down at the engine for several minutes. You know, I used to be able to fix these things, but it was as if my mind was fogged, I hadn’t a clue. Several cars drove past, but none stopped to help.  I slipped my hand back into my pocket and my fingers instinctively wrapped around the ring. I told myself that I had bought it to give to my daughter as a gift, but now thinking about it; I realized that the money I spent on the ring I could have used towards getting a new car or at least a ride home.

    “I can’t believe I paid so much for this piece of junk,” I said and threw it across the road where it landed in a ditch. “I wish my fucking car would run like new,” I blared out in anger and frustration.

    Just then, a light exploded from the ditch that I had tossed the ring into and a loud booming voice echoed. “Your wish has been granted.”

    My engine roared with new life, then purred like the day I got it. The faded paint now sparkled as if new again, and the dent from an old fender bender popped out and resurfaced all by itself.

    “Holy shit! I’m dreaming! Tell me, I’m dreaming!”

    I closed my eyes and opened them again, and still, my car purred like a newborn kitten. I walked over to the ditch where I had tossed the ring and picked it back up and stared down at it in my hand.  It looked like an ordinary ring, silver and plain. As I held it I could feel a bit of warmth seep into my palm again. Was I dreaming?

    I rubbed it, and nothing happened.

    “I command you to show yourself.”

    Nothing happened.

    Maybe I was dreaming, so I pocketed the ring and went on my merry way.

    Do genies really exist? Was this even possible? I glanced nervously at the ring that now sat peacefully a top my dashboard. It looked normal enough, a simple silver ring, somewhat small with a tarnished look. How could something so small contain so much power? I continued driving, but found my mind and my eyes wondering towards the ring every few minutes. I wanted to test it again, to make sure it was what I thought it was.  I know, it's silly, but I had to find out. I had to know if the ring really held a genie.

                I pulled off onto a side road, using my four-wheel drive to cover the wild bush and bumpy road. Up ahead of me was a shielded clearing that I know about, a perfect place to test the ring. The location was away from prying eyes, a good spot to test the ring. I glanced almost nervously towards it. My heart was pounding, and a nervous lump formed inside my throat.

    You can do this, I told myself. Just grab the ring, rub it and say appear like they did in the movies. Wait, was it rub the ring first than say appear, or did it just automatically appear when I threw the ring? Do I need to do or say some secret ritual to summon the genie, or would it just automatically show itself to me? Would it even understand me?

    I turned off my engine and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

    I picked up the ring and folded my fingers around it. As if it sensed what I was about to do, I felt the familiar warmth return as it began to seep into my palm.   Opening my hand, I could see that the writing on the ring had appeared once more.

    I opened my door, got out and closed the door behind me. I looked around, checking to make sure I was completely alone.

    It was now or never.

    I rubbed the ring once again and said aloud “Show yourself.”

    The ring exploded once again with bright light and a figure that was not quite human nor was it any kind of creature that I’d ever seen before began to appear.  It resembled more of a mixture of gases as it began to take shape, it was as if the thing were trying to decide on what form in which to appear to me. The only thing I could see were glassy, serpentine eyes.

    “You have summoned me, my master. What is it you wish?” As before, the voice was very deep, almost a growl, and I noticed now that eyes had formed, their red glow focused on me, and again I felt that familiar adrenaline rush beginning to set in.

    I thought for a while on what I wanted. I could wish for money, a new house, new car, and new job… I could wish to never see my mother-in-law again, or ask for the medical bills to disappear.  What would happen if I wish for my old dog to come back to life, or my job to stop being so damned boring?

    I glanced up at it, now noticing that the genie before me had taking on frightening air. Its form had become much darker and it had unusual markings covering its skin. Its teeth were long sharp fangs, and it had long hideous looking claws to match. Its eyes burned into mine.

    “What is it that you wish for,” it growled.

    It didn’t seem very happy, not like the genie in that Disney movie, and sure as hell not like Barbara Eden in ‘I Dream of Jeannie’. I mean, this was real, but still, something wasn’t right.

  • Prose Honorable Mention

    Jorden Bonwell

     Love is But a Click Away!
    by Jorden “Jo” Bonwell

    Day 1

    She just wants someone to make her feel like a person. Hell, she just wants someone to make her feel loved. Maybe the dating site, LoveNow, will make those dreams come true. She had heard all the buzz about it, everyone and their grandmother’s cousin’s neighbor praised it. So, she decides to start a free 20-day trial to see if she can find the one for her over the web. What was the worst that could happen?

    Yes, she had tried conventional dating. Several times in fact. Trying to meet someone organically and seeing where it went was hard with a fast-paced lifestyle of someone who worked for a living and didn't have a lot of free time. Besides, most people these days were just looking for fast-paced flings and quick good times. She wanted something long term, serious, real. So, it was time to sign up and start looking, for real!

    Okay, it’s time to make a profile! Name, Date of Birth, pretty easy stuff. Now comes to hard part: The ‘About Me’ section. She had to stay calm. The temptation to add everything under the sun yet seemingly have the person reading it learn nothing about her was overwhelming, but she had to try. Were five paragraphs too much or too little? She decided to cut it down to four and call it a day.

    Alright, her profile was made, and she was ready to meet some single-…wait that wasn’t right… “available”, ladies and see where this adventure took her!

    Day 2

    There hasn't been much activity lately. It's a lot of staring at the screen and editing her profile for hours on end. Answering quiz questions that don't seem to make much sense. What would she name her third cat Whiskers and Fluffy were taken? If her hypothetical son died who would she tell first? They don't really seem to have anything to do with core principles. Or any principles at all. But the site states that the more questions you answer the more likely you are to find a match…

    She decided she'd better answer them just in case. She was always fond of the name Hammock for a cat.

    Day 3

    Did she mention she was gay? Because as much as that was apparent on her profile with the 'women seeking women', ‘lesbian', and ‘likes Tegan and Sarah’ tags on her profile, men somehow always seemed to end up front and center as a potential match. Sure, they were either bisexual, pansexual, demisexual, hetero-flexible but she was still JUST seeking wom-...wait, hetero-flexible? That was even an option? IS that even an option at all?

    She had to really do her research after that, lest she come off as ignorant to strangers online.

    Day 4

    Six people have “Liked” her profile, but no one has said a thing to her, which according to some sources say is a pretty normal occurrence. She can't even tell who Likes her without giving the site money though, so she can’t even pick through people she knows likes her to message them, it was quite the pickle to be in...

    Hey, maybe if she got more she'd consider paying a onetime fee to see all her matches! How much is it?

    20 dollars a month...

    Guess she'll never know. At least people seem to like her.

    Day 5

    The site had a new update that implements a swipe feature. She can look at people faster now, and swipe a direction according to whether you like them or not. Right Swipe for no, Left Swipe for yes. She can also search for people in your area and see how well you match with them according to what they like. You think that would make it easier for her, but that wasn’t the problem. She had been told she was being too picky.

    She isn't looking for a lot. Honest. Just a nice girl that she can live and grow old with, in their shared condo with three cats and a dog. Maybe a hamster, no birds though. Birds are messy. Speaking of things she didn’t want, no kids either…okay maybe one kid. Adopted, of course. Okay maybe no kids they’re so much work, and messy, just like the birds. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself. But she wanted what she wanted and she wasn’t going to settle! That was okay, right? Maybe she should reconsider her stance on some things.

    Regardless, she was one fourth of the way to the end of her trial and she had to make the most of it! And this new swipe feature would make the possibilities endless now!

    Day 6

    Right Swipe, Right Swipe, Right Swipe, Right Swipe, Right Swipe, Right Swipe, Right Swipe...

    Day 7

    No one ever wants to message first. That's just a fact of life. But she had made it a rule to herself that she is looking for a woman bold enough to message first. Because that would show how interested she ACTUALLY is in her. That makes sense, right? Besides, she was a bottom. Bottoms NEVER message first. That's just how it is isn't it? Tops are the aggressors. It’s been that way since the beginning of Tops and Bottoms. She didn’t know what this Switch business was either, but if they can switch back and forth between the two then they could message her first also.

    She then notes that she's making stupid excuses for herself and decides to get off the site and try again tomorrow.

    Day 8

    She gets messaged by someone she's not really into, but keeps up a conversation anyway to be friendly. This is why she also put that she's 'seeking friends' on her profile, so no one gets mad at you went you don't want to date them. Instead of just telling them. After a while it seems better to just let the conversation die then continue this meaningless back and forth. Apparently, this is referred to as ‘ghosting’ someone, but she couldn’t see how it was at all like being an ethereal being from other plane of existence.

    She never hears from them again. Her Like counter goes down by one.

    Day 9

    Someone else messages her, but the way they word things seem a bit...suspicious. She goes to their profile and sees they keep mentioning their feet, like an unusual amount of times for someone who claims not to be into feet. While she doesn't have a foot fetish, she can't say that isn't a direct turn off. But the fake looking photos and the weird language of someone who is a 31-year-old man poorly trying to pass as a 16-year-old girl, does turn her off.

    She promptly deletes the message and doesn't look back.

    Day 10

    She told herself when she got 30 Likes halfway through her trial, she would message someone she had Liked. She had to. Her trial was almost done and she HAD to try something. She checks her likes that very moment to see where she was at.

    She has 35 Likes.

    She decides to hold off on it until later. Later she will have an idea of what to say. Later she could decide who she really wanted to message and weight in on her options. Later should could have enough time and not rush and make typos.

    Later never comes.

    Day 11

    She's getting frustrated because she's not seeing what she wants. Which isn’t much, by the way. All she wants is a (preferably older) lesbian (Bisexuals, pansexuals, demisexuals…all those spectrums are fine too) who will not only care for her emotionally but will also care for her sexually. No kids, lives in her area but she could handle long distance for a while. A bit aggressive but not too much. Hopefully have some of the same hobbies as her, but not all of them so they can still have their own sense of independence. Hopefully they have a job or at least focuses on school. Doesn't mind that she smokes. Doesn’t mind that she also drinks when she smokes. Like to go out but doesn’t mind a nice day in. Doesn't use the word "hetero-flexible" on her profile or words like “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” ...

    There's nothing wrong with know what you like right? Maybe she was harsher then she realizes. She starts to worry that she’s becoming jaded to love, making up these impossibly standards no one could meet so no one could ultimately disappoint her.

    Or maybe she was thinking way too hard about it. Yeah, that had to be it.

    Day 12

    She promptly spends most of the day hating herself and her body because she feels that the type of women she likes don't match up to people she would have any chance with. No one messages her and her Like counter doesn't mean anything if no one follows up on it. Not that it’s gone up in a while.

    She doesn't visit the site today, and spends most of the day reading romantic literature and feeling sorry for herself.

    Day 13

    She gets the chance to go to a bar and be social today, which is a treat. She chats up a few girls and while things don't lead to sparkles and rainbows she feels pretty good about herself and has a great time. She wishes she could do this more, but she never has the money to go out nor a way to get to places events are being held. In short, they’re far and expensive.

    She looks at her profile later that night. She had gotten 4 more Likes since she last checked. They're starting to feel like nothing though.

    Day 14

    She feels like she’s seeing the same ten people over and over. She starts wondering if it’s some huge over-arching plot to get her to message one of these ten individuals because they have shown some sort of interest in her and the site is giving her hints. Maybe it isn’t just the site, but the universe. It’s telling her that one of these ten individuals are the ones, to just take the time to get to know them and you’ll see their more then just what you see and read. People are surprisingly complex after all, she should just go for it!

    She decides to go to bed instead.

    Day 15

    She only has five more days to make a move. To contact someone, ANYONE, get a number or at least some form of social media handle. This wasn’t going to be a waste of time for her. She HAD to do something today.

    She doesn’t.

    Day 16

    She gets a message from a pretty cute girl! Okay, she wasn’t going to panic. This isn’t wedding bells just yet, they’re just talking right now about casual things. Stay calm. Stay calm and just keep it cool. She seems really nice, funny, and her profiles has all the basics she could ever want: She lives nearby, has a really good job, and has a cat! Sure, they don’t share all the same hobbies and it wasn’t everything she was looking for, but to hell with that, she got a message!

    Right when she was about to give up hope too, this mystery girl came at just the right time. Could it be fate? Destiny even? She can’t help but think of all the endless possibilities that could come from this. Imagine, having a nice candle lit dinner then hitting the town, ending up in a dimly lit garden where they would share their first kiss…maybe they’ll share some drinks at a bar, wander to a beach where they’d lay in the sand and talk for hours. Anything was possible!

    Day 17

    Things have been going okay with the mystery girl, who she has dubbed MG, and even though this modern-day Casanova asked for her number already and she admittedly said it makes her a little nervous. She mentions that maybe after giving it one more day she’d feel more comfortable with it. That’s not too much to ask, right? MG didn’t seem too upset by it and says it’s good to be careful. She knew she could trust her to wait.

    Day 18

    MG hasn’t messaged her since their talk and it’s starting to worry her. But she goes about her day. She thinks it’s weird to try and engage with other people while talking to someone already, so she doesn’t even look at other profiles.

    Day 19

    She still hasn’t got a message from MG. She realizes that she has probably been ghosted because of her attempts of being suspicious. Even though they haven’t been talking very long and not about anything serious, she feels a familiar ping of sadness in her chest. Maybe this wasn’t for her after all.

    She logs off.

 

  • Script Winner

    Hillary Scott

     

    The Family                                   

     ACT ONE

     Scene 1

    Open, flower-filled field. Mid-Summer, 1969.

     Daisy and Raine lay in the tall grass looking out over a great expanse. There has just been word of a massacre a few towns over. The girls contemplate their relation to the leader of the attack.

     DAISY: Did you hear what happened last night?

    RAINE: Word travels fast around here.

    DAISY: I can’t believe they actually went through with it.

    RAINE: I’m not surprised. Have you seen the effect he has on everyone?

    DAISY: Yes, but—

    RAINE: I thought about joining them. Pretty charismatic dude.

    DAISY: You didn’t.

    RAINE: What can I say?

    DAISY: They’re gonna get caught you know?

    RAINE: Doubtful. They been planning this for a while now. They wouldn’t be so stupid   as to get caught now.

    DAISY: I don’t know, man. That’s cold blooded murder!

    RAINE: QUIET! You don’t want nobody coming ‘round here taking our home.

    DAISY: We practically live in a field for Christ’s sake. What they gonna do? Peel the       grass up from underneath us?

    RAINE: Not like it’s never happened before. Indians, remember?

    DAISY: Well they shoulda learned from them that land ain’t meant to be removed like     that.

    RAINE: We’re talking about the police here.

    DAISY: I know.

    RAINE: They don’t give a damn who came before us, and they sure as hell ain’t gonna     give a damn ‘bout who comes after us.

    DAISY: Then why are you trying to get mixed up with them?

    RAINE: ‘Cause in this world you either kill or get killed.

    DAISY: Doesn’t have to be that way.

    RAINE: Daisy, it isn’t all sunshine and butterflies. There’s real problems in the world—

    DAISY: Doesn’t mean you have to be the one solving them.

    RAINE: If we don’t then who will?

    DAISY: Leave it to the family.

    RAINE: You can’t just let life pass you by. You have to stand up for what you believe in.

    DAISY: But I couldn’t kill nobody.

    RAINE: How do you know? Have you ever even tried?

    DAISY: No. I’m shakin’ just thinkin’ about it.

    RAINE: I’ll teach you. Make it real simple. Real easy.

    DAISY: Have you killed someone before?

    RAINE: No, but it can’t be that hard.

    DAISY: I don’t know…

    RAINE: I hear Charlie talkin’ bout it all the time. Makes it seem like it’s nothing.

    DAISY: Just because he makes it seem that way doesn’t mean it actually is.

    RAINE: So you’re just going to live your life and let those pigs walk all over you?

    DAISY: Why can’t we just lay in this field—

    RAINE: Laying in this field all day isn’t gonna get you anywhere in life.

    DAISY: It might. How do you know?

    RAINE: We gotta go out and take what’s ours.

    DAISY: Why you gotta kill people to do it?

    RAINE: That’s the only way.

    DAISY: Why? ‘Cause that’s what Charlie says?

    RAINE: Charlie ain’t been wrong yet.

    DAISY: But what if he is? Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday?

    RAINE: You live in your head too much.

    DAISY: No. I’m just being logical.

    RAINE: More like paranoid.

    DAISY: No. Why can’t you see the reality of this?

    RAINE: You should hit this. Get out of your head a little.

    DAISY: Drugs aren’t going to solve anything!

    RAINE: Drugs solve everything.

    DAISY: You are so brainwashed by that man.

    RAINE: Lighten up, Daisy.

    DAISY: This is serious.

    RAINE: Whatever, man.

    DAISY: You can’t just live your life smoking pot and killing people.

    RAINE: Yeah? Why no—

    DAISY: It’s immoral.

    RAINE: Since when do you have morals?

    DAISY: I’ve always had morals. You should pay attention and learn from me.

    RAINE: And live life like a goody-goody? No thanks. Nobody ever had fun being a          goody-goody.

    DAISY: Life isn’t just about having fun all the time.

    RAINE: Yeah. You’re life isn’t. Doesn’t mean I have to live my life like that.

    DAISY: Well, you live your life how you want. I’m not gonna hurt nobody.

    RAINE: Even if your life depended on it?

    DAISY: How could my life depend on harming another person?

    RAINE: What if, hypothetically speaking, somebody put a gun to your head and said, “If you don’t kill this person, I’ll shoot you?”

    DAISY: I’d let the person shoot me.

    RAINE: No you wouldn’t. Ain’t no way you would risk your life for somebody else.

    DAISY: How do you know?

    RAINE: Cause I know you. I known you a long time.

    DAISY: Life is full of surprises.

    RAINE: Let’s try it out then. Charlie’s got lots a guns.

    DAISY: You wouldn’t.

    RAINE: He already thinks you’re a weakling. I’m sure he’d be happy to be proven right.

    DAISY: He wouldn’t even give you the time of day.

    RAINE: You don’t think so? Why not? I got a nice body. I got acid. And I’m willing to    kill for him.

    DAISY: Looks aren’t everything.

    RAINE: Yeah but they don’t hurt.

    DAISY: Plus, do you really want to be with a man who sleeps with everyone?

    RAINE: Ain’t a thing, Daisy. Everybody loves everybody here.

    DAISY: Then why y’all busy killing people.

    RAINE: ‘Cause we don’t love them. All they do is take and take and take.

    DAISY: That’s confusing.

    RAINE: Just listen here. These people here on this commune, they’re our people. Our      family. Our friends. We love them. Those people out there, they aren’t our kind.     All their money, and all their fancy clothes, and all their big houses on the hills.     They just want more and more and more. When is it going to be enough, Daisy? When are you going to be fed up? When are you going to stop letting them use      you as a doormat?

    DAISY: That’s my family you’re talking about.

    RAINE: They aren’t your family anymore. We are your family.

    DAISY: That’s your family that you’re talking about too.

    RAINE: They ain’t been my family for a long time. Buncha pigs. All they do is squeal      squeal squeal about how they need more. They always need more.

    DAISY: You don’t ever miss them?

    RAINE: Ain’t nothing to miss.

    DAISY: I miss my family.

    RAINE: How many times I gotta tell you? They ain’t your family no more!

    DAISY: They’ll always be my family.

    RAINE: No. We are your family now. You made this choice to join us. You made the       choice to leave everyone else out there behind.

    DAISY: I never.

    RAINE: That’s what it means to live on a commune, Daisy. Why are you even here then?

    DAISY: I don’t know. One day I just ended up here.

    RAINE: You mean you don’t remember?

    DAISY: No. I just woke up one day and I was here. Isn’t that how you got here?

    RAINE: No, I choose to come here. Everybody chooses to come here.

    DAISY: I didn’t.

    RAINE: Well, don’t go around thinking you’re special now. Nobody’s special here.          We’re all equals.

    DAISY: I don’t think I’m special.

    RAINE: Good, cause you ain’t.

    DAISY: I just want to go home.

    RAINE: This is your home now.

                End Scene One.

  • Script Runner-Up

    Jacob Jones

     

    A War on Tradition

    (JOHNNY, a young, clean shaven man, is sitting at the bar. The band just finished playing. RONNIE, the lead singer walks up to the bar).

    RONNIE: Give me what’s on tap.

    (The bartender pours RONNIE a glass of beer and sets it in front of him. RONNIE takes a big drink).

    JOHNNY: I liked your show.

    RONNIE: Thanks, I’ll be here all week.

    JOHNNY: I work for a label-

    RONNIE: Save it, bub.

    JOHNNY: But you haven’t even heard my offer.

    RONNIE: I don’t need to hear your offer, I’ve been screwed over time and again by people like you.

    JOHNNY: I’m with an independent label.

    RONNIE: Yeah? How’s this? I’m not interested.

    JOHNNY: We can cut you a deal that’s not like those major labels.

    RONNIE: I said I’m not interested.

    JOHNNY: We’ll let you produce your own music.

    (RONNIE glances at JOHNNY).

    JOHNNY: Look man, I know you could use the money.

    RONNIE: What do you know?

    JOHNNY: I know that you’re living on the street. I know that you’re struggling to get by. I know that this business is cut-throat and that you need someone to deal with that business side.

    RONNIE: I don’t need anyone.

    JOHNNY: Yeah, you don’t need anyone. You don’t need anyone if you want to keep playing shit clubs like these.

    RONNIE: Why do you want to help me?

    JOHNNY: Let’s just say that our label has had one too many failures and we’re looking for someone to make our star.

    RONNIE: Look, I don’t want to be anybody’s last resort. I don’t need that kind of disrespect.

    JOHNNY: And I don’t mean any disrespect. Once we found out you were without a label, trust me, we were trying to jump on that opportunity. Just think of what having the world’s greatest Elvis impersonator on our label would mean.

    RONNIE: If you’re just lookin’ for image, I won’t even bother with you guys.

    JOHNNY: Well sure, you’d definitely help our image, but don’t get us wrong, we want to put out good music. Image is secondary, the music is first.

    RONNIE: You say you’ll let me produce my own music?

    JOHNNY: Yeah.

    RONNIE: How do I know you’re not going to fuck with it?

    JOHNNY: When you’re a success, we’ll be a success as a label.

    RONNIE: When I got signed to my former label, they told me exactly what you were telling me. You know what that got me? Kicked out on the street. They didn’t want my material.

    JOHNNY: As an independent label, we’ll give you that freedom to develop as an artist.

    RONNIE: Will you? You already told me that you’re trying to recruit me for the money.

    JOHNNY: Here’s the thing… The major labels see us as a threat. We’re doing our own thing, that’s an attack on the status quo. We need the money because a major label is trying to buy us out. We need you so that we can remain independent.

    RONNIE: Hah, don’t try to feed me that bullshit. “Attack on the status quo.” I’ve been around for quite some time and let me tell you, the status quo isn’t going to change.

    JOHNNY: It will if the little guy starts standing up to the big guy.

    RONNIE: I owned a business for 25 years before I started doing this. I was a general store. All of that was gone when a corporation came around and started to steal my business.

    JOHNNY: As an independent label, we’re willing to take risks for our artists that the major labels can’t. They’ll never be able to take that away from us.

    RONNIE: That’s what I thought too. I thought that I actually had a chance in the market before the corporations came in.

    JOHNNY: Running a label is different from running a store.

    RONNIE: Are you saying that my experience doesn’t matter?

    JOHNNY: No-

    RONNIE: Look asshole, I don’t need you, you need me. You keep talking about how your label is going to be eaten, well let me break it to you, I can’t stop that from happening. If it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen.

    (JOHNNY is quiet).

    RONNIE: When my business went under, I thought, oh well, I’ll find a way. So I began workin’ in the factories. Well let me tell you, those went under too. What did I do next? I joined showbiz. And then what happened? I got kicked off the label for “creative differences.” It’s all a bunch of bullshit.

    JOHNNY: So what? You’re just going to give up and keep playing these shitty clubs and living on the streets?

    RONNIE: Don’t give me that shit. I’ve heard it all before. I’ve tried. And I’ve never succeeded. At this point in my life, I just want some kind of stability.

    JOHNNY: Just give us a chance. We might even be able to get you that stability that you’ve been wanting.

    RONNIE: All my life, all I’ve ever wanted was just to make ends meet. Look where that’s gotten me.

    JOHNNY: Then why not try to do something extraordinary?

    RONNIE: Because I did try that once, and it doesn’t work.

    JOHNNY: You can’t give up so easily! I’ve been a recruiter for 5 years now. I’ve recruited and managed about 50 musicians. Now just because they haven’t become stars doesn’t mean I don’t see them as failures. They’re just stepping stones.

    RONNIE: Well, you’ve got a funny idea of what a failure isn’t then.

    JOHNNY: Maybe you’ve got a funny idea of what failure is.

    RONNIE: Kid, I’ve been around much longer than you have. I’ve seen things your generation will never get the chance to see. Things that died long ago-

    JOHNNY: Yeah, but the times have changed!

    RONNIE: For the worse!

    (JOHNNY is silent).

    RONNIE: Don’t you get it? All things must pass. I had my time, and my time was shit. I’ll never get that back.

    JOHNNY: No, the past won’t come back. But the future is still to come. I’m optimistic we can-

    RONNIE: Fuck off with your optimism. I was like you once. I was there during it all. During the fucking 60s, when the hippies preached love, during the 70s, when Vietnam really became the shit show it was. They thought they could change the world, but the cold hard truth is that you can’t.

    JOHNNY: The world has changed. We’re not in Vietnam anymore. We’re not in a Cold War-

    RONNIE: Instead they’ve been replaced by war in the Middle East. Instead, we got North Korea.

    JOHNNY: You can’t let that get to you. If you do, you won’t be able to do anything. You can’t live your life in fear of things you can’t control.

    (RONNIE pauses).

    JOHNNY: You’re so worried about these big problems that you can’t even fix anyway. The factories are gone, what can you do about that? Find a new job. You got kicked off your label, so what? Find a new one! The world is going to be fucked up no matter what. There’s always going to be war. There’s always going to be the apocalypse. Doesn’t mean you can’t live your life.

    (RONNIE stares at JOHNNY).

    JOHNNY: Look, I can’t force you to do anything. I’m just asking you to give me a shot. You’re my only shot too. Just look over my contract… If there’s anything you don’t like, we can negotiate…

    (JOHNNY pulls a piece of paper out of his briefcase and hands it over to RONNIE. RONNIE reads it over while JOHNNY watches him).

    JOHNNY: Well?

    (RONNIE pauses a moment).

    RONNIE: I’m sorry, man. I’m just not your guy.

    (JOHNNY grabs the contract off the table and shoves it into his briefcase).

    JOHNNY: (Angrily) It was a pleasure doing business with you.

    (JOHNNY stands up and walks away before RONNIE can say anything. RONNIE looks at his glass of beer and then drinks the rest of it).

     

  • Script Honorable Mention

    Micah Judah

     

       Terra+Metta

    By: Micah Judah & Solomon Uhuru

    This story is designed to be a graphic novel or Animation.

     Data entry 001: From one place to another

    (Milky Way)

     Brighton: I envy light

    (Different scenery of space)

     How it can travel across the universe,

    (A bunch of planets seen)

     Unstoppable and boundless, the things it could pass through our unfathomable

     (Solar system)

     But out of all the places I’ve could’ve been…..

     (Earth)

     I’m here......

     (Zoomed in to earth USA continent, the zooms in to California, and then Beverly hills)

     (A School is seen, Western brotherhood academy, year 1967)

     (NEXT PAGE)

     (Boy in chair, all male school)

     Brighton: (Thinking, fist on cheek, bored)   in sausage fest academy

     Teacher:  Mr. Thoreau! You’re not staring in space again are you?

     (Everyone looks at Brighton)

     Brighton:  (snaps out of space staring, tries to focus) No sir just thinking about it, you know?

     (Some kids smirking, teacher unamused)

     Teacher: is that so? Then answer the question, who discovered the red planet mars and when?

     Brighton: I can't answer that.

     (Slick blacked hair kid with very smug face, name Richard Biggs “Big dick”)

     Dick: Nicolaus Copernicus year 1543

     Teacher: that is correct thank you Mr. Biggs. At least someone has been studying

     (Students start laughing)

     (Brighton stands up)

     Brighton:  Polish Mathematician, Nicolaus Copernicus suggested that mars was a planet in his book

     Heliocentric theory which was published in 1543, but since mars can be seen without the use of

     Telescopes and even binoculars it was most likely discovered by some African star gazers ten of

     Thousand of years before ole Nick was born.... please stop trying to whitewash history it makes people

     Who know how to think even a little, get a major headache.

     (Dick pissed)

     (Everyone shocked)

     Teacher: I’m impressed for someone who skips class on a weekly basis you sure know how to retain

     Knowledge, or is this too easy for you since you’re repeating junior year again?

     (Everyone laughing)

     Student A: Brighton showing up to class what next a man on the moon!?

     (Everyone continues laughing)

     Dick: Brains don’t mean nothing if you’re still failing!

     (Brighton pissed, Dick giggling)

     (Bell rings)

     Owen: Hey Brighton that was pretty cool back there...

     Brighton: what the truth? You should know by now that Mr. Ingles is filled with even more bullshit

     Than those history textbooks

     Owen: so me and the band are gonna go mess with some girls at sisterhood, yah coming?

     (Points at Brighton squad who are behind Owen by their lockers)

     Brighton: that sounds fun but...I have to go straight home today my brother is visiting

     Owen:  Henry Thoreau huh? Man I missed his bass lessons

     Brighton: humph, man that was years ago...

     (Closes locker)

     Dick: stupid nigger watch where you going!

     (Brighton and Owen look, white male named Dick looking down at black male named Martin, books on floor)

     Martin: I’m sorry...

     Dick: well don't just stand there pick them up

     (Martin starts picking books up)

     (Dick stomps on his hands)

     Dick: you know what keep em, I don't want my books to be covered with your filthy nigger germs, my Father will just buy me new ones

     Dick follower: heh

     Dick: you should be grateful, everyone knows you have cheap used copies, now you got some brand New ones! (Laughs)

     (Brighton super pissed, clenches fist)

     (Closes eyes)

     Brighton: Milky, Solar, Terra, Cali, home (repeats 3 times)

     (Owen looking at Brighton)

     (Brighton fist unclenched)

     (Time transition)

     (Brighton staring at hand)

     (In room)

     Brighton: I still can't believe that worked

     Brighton mom: Supper’s ready everyone!

     (Brighton's hands on face)

     (Brighton at dinner table, house mom, suited dad and brother)

     (Warm bread basket, bowls of salad, big steak, steak slices, Macaroni fine china)

     Brighton's Dad: This looks delightful as always

     Brighton's Mom: (gleeful) oh of course honey got to make sure you fine men are well fed

     (Everyone eating)

     Brighton: so how was work, father?

     Brighton's Dad: I'm glad you're interested! Tobacco Extravagance is doing better than ever, some  loud mouth scientists were trying to introduce a bill that would regulate my company’s advertisementsexpenditures, my company! Because of a theory with no supporting evidence that cigarette smoke ismrelated to lung cancer! Preposterous I tell you! But do to some political persuasion and common since they won't be much of a problem any longer.

    (Everyone laughing)

    Brighton: I’m still confused what exactly do you do? At the company bro?

    (Brighton’s brother name is Henry)

     Henry: well as a financial expert, I managed detail financial record to cut down redundant spending as much as possible, ensure that we stay on budget in several different ventures, but I also keep a close look at the stock market to sell and buy sub-companies after a relentless cost-benefit analysis.

     (Brighton super bored)

     Brighton: that sounds super boring

     (Mom smile turns to subtle concern gesture)

     Brighton's brother: does 46k a year sound “super boring”?

     (Everyone laughs Brighton quiet)

     Brighton's dad: don't worry boy I’m sure you can find something interesting to do in the company, you don’t have to be a financial expert like your brother.

     Brighton: ...that's great....

     (Time lapse supper over, mother cleaning dishes, while singing)

     Brighton's mom: Brighton your brother wants to see you before he leaves

     Brighton: okay mom

     (Brighton home seen)

     (Nice looking black car in front of it, engine on)

     (Window rows down, Brighton brother is looking at him)

     Brighton:  later bro, what time you think I'll be able to see you again?

     Henry: Brighton, what do you want to be when you grow up?

     (Brighton shocked)

     Brighton: huh? Work with you and father of course...

     Brighton bro: really...it's just that I have to admit the work is, what did you say earlier? Ah yes boring... it's so repetitive and easy that I get no excitement out of it at all...

     Brighton: Henry...

     Henry: And to top it off we constantly attack peoples insecurities to get them to buy our Products and not to mention we lobby congress all the time undermining public health...the market Strategy is truly evil

    Brighton: then why the hell do you work there!

    Henry: well for starters it works. As in it pays the bills, and the fact that it’s legal, and being The son of an executive well I can already buy two homes and start a family.

     Henry: why are you telling me all this?

     Henry: because I know you enough to know you don't want to work there, the fact father hasn't kicked your disobedience self out by now is somewhat shocking, are those therapy sessions working?

     Henry: what they told you!?

     Henry: yes I knew for a year now, that my brother is crazy and needs weekly therapy, it is utterly humiliating

     Brighton: ...

     Henry: ...but to cut to the chase you need to... give up your dream of being a rock star...

     (Brighton super shocked)

     Henry: not only is it foolish to begin with, but father will break all ties with you if you pursue it so if you fail, you won't have a place to return

     Brighton: but brother didn't you want be a musician too!?

     Henry: not anymore it's time for you to grow up! Because the last thing I want to do is take care of a failed artist I wasted enough time changing your diapers, and have my own financially secure goals to pursue.

    Brighton: ...

    Henry: we’ll talk again later and I expect to not see that guitar in your room the next time I

     Return, until then stay out of trouble

     (Pulls up the window, drives off)

     (Brighton looking down)

     (Brighton Father looking out window, leaves)

     (Brighton angry)

     “Stay out of trouble”

     (Time transition)

     (Brotherhood academy)

     (Dick getting punched in the face by Brighton)

     (Brighton grabs his shirt before he falls brings him back dick gets punched again)

     (Owen and Brighton other friends grab on to him)

     Owen: that's enough Brighton!

     Brighton: let me go, let me go!

     John: attacking Dick for no reason! Have you gone crazy Brighton!

     (Dick getting helped up slowly)

     (Brighton breaks out of friends’ grip, Runs towards dick who is scarred, bloody and crying)

     Brighton: Bastard had it coming!

     (Flash)

     (All black)

     Milky, Solar, Terra, Cali, home....what a crock of shit.

     Therapist: he's in the hospital....

     (Scenery of therapy room)

     Brighton: I don't care

     Therapist: you been expelled from the academy

     Brighton: that place sucked anyway

     Therapist: your father is being sued by his parents

     Brighton: he deserves it.

     Therapist: who deserved it?

     Brighton: both of them

     Therapist: your father deserved getting sued?

     Brighton: yeah...

     Therapist: why?

     Brighton: ...

    Therapist: answer the question Brighton

     Brighton: Because he wants me to work for his despicable company, and be miserable for the rest of My life!  How come I can't just do what I want!?

     Therapist: what do you want?

     Brighton: I want to be a rock star!

     Therapist: do you now?

     Brighton: what’s that supposed to mean?

     Therapist: just last week you wanted to be a baseball star And before that a world renown philosophical... pilot was it?

     Brighton: yeah but I actually know how to play the guitar I mean don't get me wrong I have a mean swing ...but as far as philosophical Pilot goes, I must have been on something when I said that

    Therapist: hmm...interesting all you dreams are quite similar The crux of their similarities is that they all demand traveling and being revered by others…

     This makes since, since you’re always feeling like you’re stuck in boring and stressful situations, you want to be free and appreciated since you’re not by your family...is that correct?

     Brighton: ...

     (Puts hand on face)

     Doc you gotta help I don't know what to do...and I don't want to be miserable (teary eyed)

     (Therapist staring at him)

     Brighton: father is going to force me into boot camp to knock some sense into me...but I don't want to go...I don't want to go...I don't want to go to stupid boot camp!

     Therapist: then don't go. (Gets up)  I have other patience to attend to that have much more serious problems. So get out of here and don't come back.

     (Brighton shocked looks up at therapist)

     Therapists: I’m tired of living off your slimy father’s paycheck as well (smiles)

     (Brighton still shocked)

     Brighton: P-Professor Emerson

     Therapist: why the hell are you still standing there get out of here! Run! And don't look back!

     (Brighton still shocked)

     (Brighton driving in his red sports car)

     (Sees Owen   playing guitar with band, girls are watching)

     Brighton: hey guys I’m ready!

    Owen: bout time

    (Gets up)

    Owen: alright ladies and gentlemen looks like we're finally leaving our over privileged brainwashing culture of mainstream life, Let’s leave this Beverly life and venture to the golden city and change the world!

    (Shows people getting into Brighton car excited yelling)

     Brighton: (thinking) sorry brother, but from here on out I’m doing what I want....

     (Time montage)

     A lot of stuff happened since that day, a man freaking landed on the moon! And now they wanna land On mars! King and bobby were assassinated; and that turmoil empowered the youth movement we Embraced, the mainstream they called us hippies. The band separated awhile back but me and Owen Had an inseparable bond we started a new band called Aurora and ironically were heading towards Canada right now to dodge the draft...(Hippie kombi on highway)

     (Brighton and Owens gets into argument X versus king philosophy)

     (Dodges corporate truck, kombi goes off road into the forest, loses control, hits tree, air bags)

     Owen: My leg, my leg

     Brighton: Owen!

    Soul: is everybody all right?

     (Everyone looking at kombi)

     Owen: well I guess we'll be camping here

     Brighton: jeez I’m sorry Owen if I didn't get you into that argument...

     Owen: never mind that, no biggie, what happens, happened

     Gazelle: the spirits wants us to camp here I’ll set up the tents!

     Owen: yeah what she said. My leg hurts why don't you go get the firewood to make up for that accident?

     Brighton: alright

     Soul: let me get the first aid kit and treat that leg of yours Owen

     Owen: sounds like a plan

     (Time transition, Brighton staring at fire)

     (Everyone smoking weed having a good time)

     Soul: let’s practice for our future gigs! (Takes out drum set)

     Gazelle: (has mini piano attached to her like a guitar)

     Owen: (base) with pleasure, Brighton ready to sing some magical lyrics as always?

     Brighton: (with guitar) I dig it!

     Owen: Right on right on

     (Everyone playing instrument)

     (Brighton starts singing)

     (Everyone feeling it, Brighton continues lyrics gets serious)

     Owen: hold up, hold up, hold up what’s that supposed to mean?

     Brighton: huh?

     Owen: (insert lyric quote here) I ain't feeling them words Brighton

     Brighton: well it is the truth, this movement was supposed to be a revolution!

     And now we're just turning our backs on our brothers and sisters!

    Owen: our music is the revolution the message in it will change hearts and enlighten the minds of the loss souls of the world.

    Brighton:  that’s some jive ass shit man!

    Soul: N-Now call down y'all

    Brighton: our music isn't strong enough we need to do something bigger, because now all we do is smoke weed and eat basmati rice all damn day! We’re not really making any progress with our so called revolutionary music!

     Owen: sounds like to me you wanna fight in the man's war.

     Brighton: that's not it...but I don't wanna be here anymore if we’re not doing anything noteworthy

     Owen: then leave!  You must be use to running away by now!

     Brighton: fine!  ((Breaks guitar, Brighton runs off)

     Gazelle: Bright don't go!

     (Brighton runs in the forest)

     Owen: ...don't worry he'll be back (looks down)

     (Brighton running)

     Brighton: damn it! This can't be the pinnacle of my life is it!?

    (Running)

    (Mount Shasta in the distant background, a glimmer of green line is briefly visible)

    (Running)

     (All black) where is my life going?

     (Running, visualizes himself in the Vietnam War, shooting going on, helicopter falls, Vietnamese Yelling, Brighton sees alien in uniform, snaps out of illusion)

     Brighton: what the fuck!

     (Trips, falls, tumble down steep)

     (Fall off a forest cliff, Brighton shocked)

     (Hand grabs him, he looks up Owens smiling)

     Brighton: Owen?

     (Hallucination, wasn't Owen, but a branch)

     Brighton: (branch breaks)

     (Brighton falling, looks up sees aurora in the sky above Mt. Shasta)

     Brighton: far out...

     (Brighton falling)

     Milky, solar, Terra, U.S, Cali… No home

     (Everything White)

     (SCENE TRANSTION)

     (Armored jeeps entering forest)

     Communication network: The Queen Piece has been seen I repeat the Queen piece has been seen

     All units disperse across the wilderness, neutralize the queen piece when located

     (In side jeeps, heavy armed metallic men yell in unison)

     Pawns: Yes captain!

     (Jeeps spread out through forest)

     Brighton: (Screams at the top of his longs, Notices he's not falling) oh Uh...didn't I fall off a cliff or something?

    (Brighton brown hair is now gray but he doesn’t notice)

    Must have been high ass fuuuuuuuuccccckkkkk

    (Walking with branch like cane)

    Brighton: Owen? Soul? Gazelle? (Looks around, starts walking) Owen! Soul! Gazelle!

     (Sees someone coming in the distant)

     Brighton: is that them? Did they fix the kombi? (Smiles)

     (Person gets closer, robo-cop like man on ATV)

     Brighton: now that's a groovy looking costume

     Pawn: Halt! Identify yourself (pawn scanning can’t find Brighton identification info)

     Brighton: wha?

     Pawn:  (shocked) his information isn't in the database. (Yells) refusal to identify yourself will result in arrest!

     Brighton: (thinking) arrest? Oh no is this guy one of those draft agents? Who hunt down draft dodgers? And forces them to go to Nam?

    Brighton: (says) ...my name is Hippie man

     (Brighton tries to swing staff at pawn)

     (Pawn catches it punches Brighton on ground))

     Pawn: subject has engaged in combat permission to neutralize?

     (Brighton shocked feeling jaw) Communication network: ….granted

    (Pawn pulls out gun)

    (Brighton pissed looking at guy, mouth bleeding)

    (Shoots gun at Brighton, Brighton super shocked)

    (Sees bullet by his eye, the bullet stops in mid-air then falls)

    Brighton: !?

     (Pawn Falls off bike, bike is pushed away then destroyed, pawn is slam against tree, floats up lands on branch out cold)

     Brighton: what the hell. (Gets up, shocked)

     Queen: hey you...

     (Brighton turns and see girl on ATV)

    Brighton: ?

     (Looks at weed, with inquiry, looks back at girl)

     Brighton: did you see that?

     (Queen Makes “come here” hand signal)

     (Brighton feels force upon himself, push towards Queen)

     (Brighton screams while be levitated towards Queen)

     (Lands on her ATV behind her)

     Brighton: (screams) what the hell is happening!?

     (Queen starts driving)

     Queen: No time to explain, pawns are everywhere

     Brighton: pawns? What are pawns!?

    (Two Pawns approaches)

     Pawns: Queen Piece located!

     (Queen uses telekinesis to push pawns away)

     Pawns: ah!

     Queen: those are pawns...

     Brighton: (screams) what do they want with us?

     Queens: I’m not quite sure...but it obviously has to do with our Meta powers

     Brighton: Meta powers? You mean like superman!?

     Queen: yes, you should know by now that I have telekinesis

     Brighton: telekinesis....

     Queen: they are aware of my Meta power but it doesn't seem like they’re aware of yours, after all one Did just try to kill you.

    Brighton: wait I have Meta powers too that's super groovy!

    Queen: I’m shocked, you’re taken this in stride?

    Brighton: ha! You gotta be kidding me! Owen and I obviously patched things up, ate mushrooms and at the moment I am on a psychedelic venture being chased by the man’s robo men with a sexy British alien babe like I've always dreamed about.

    (Rubs his face against her back, her eyes widen in shocked)

    ...by the way they're 7 of those guys behind us and it looks like they’re about to start shooting

    (Queen turns around sees them)

    Queen: blast!

    (Telekinesis drives ATV, makes two pawns fly off, others continue pursuit)

     Queen: the forest ahead is getting too dense

     Pegasus trigger! Mountain bike

     Pegasus (ATV): roger

     (Vehicle slowly transforms into motorbike)

     Brighton: whooooooooooweeeeeeee!

     (Goes in dense forest)

     (Pawns stop)

     Brighton: (shock but excited) the ATV just turned into bike, now that's groovy mama!

     Queen: mama? (Briefly silent) I am called Queen

     Brighton: you mean like the band? You know I’m in a band.

     Queen: enough with the gibberish, someone who has Meta powers For as long as you have should be very skilled at using it, and if you wish to escape this situation You’re going to have to help me!

    Brighton: I have no idea what you’re talking about besides this is a hallucinati-

    (Queen elbows him in the face)

    Queen: enough! This is not a hallucination you buffoon! Now tell me what your power is!

    (Brighton super confused, nose bleeding)

    Brighton: I don't know what you’re talking about besides we shook em,

    (Bike exits dense lane, enters opening, trees are cut destroyed)

     (Queen stops motorcycle)

     (Hundreds of pawns surround them, all aiming high tech tranquilizer guns)

    (3 helicopters)

     Queen: (shocked) they’re everywhere!

     (Black man named bishop on helicopter in suit looking down at them)

     Black Bishop: the Queen piece so far has been avoiding lethal outputs, every pawn she's engaged with is still alive, we can assume that she has some code that prevents her from doing such...

    Brighton: huh?

     Bishop: fortunately for you queen, we want you alive as well! All units force her into backlash! Fire the tranquilizers!

    Pawns in unison: yes sir!

    (Pawns start shooting barrage of tranquilizer bullets at her, queen using telekinesis to stop needles, her hands moving super-fast)

    Queen: Help me boy! I don't have enough power to do a full sweep!

    Brighton: but even if I do have powers I don't know how to use it!

    Queen: you useless little fool! I’m going to fail my mission because of you!

    Should've let that man shot you back there at least you'll be more useful that way!

    Brighton: I'm sorry! (Eyes closed)

    (Eyes open)

    (Brighton sees queen and pawns are all gone...)

    Brighton: (silent, begins to giggle, then laughs with relief) It was a hallucination after all!

    (Starts dancing)

    Told you q-queen! I am going to miss that British accent though...then again I have more LSD...

    (Brighton see something)

    Brighton: …what the fuck!?

    (Extremely Rusty kombi seen, wheels are gone, windows are broke, hood is opened, engine gone bird nest on it,)

    Brighton: h-how did it go so rusted?

    (Looks sees puddle, sees himself, hair is no longer brown but a light gray)

    Brighton: (yells) my hair is gray!?

    How!? (Looks around)

    Ever since I woke up after that fall the weirdest stuffs been happening

    Brighton: soul! Gazelle! Owen! Where are you dudes!?

    (Birds fly away forest scenery is seen)

    0 (voice in Brighton head): it’s unusual for you to stay in place.

    Brighton: I-I left something behind....

    0: you don't have much time you must return, or all is lost

    Brighton: that's all I've ever been... lost (looks down)

    0: Brighton Thoreau you been gone for quite a while...I understand that now, but all is not lost

    Brighton: well I’ve completely lost it, I’m hearing voices in my head

    0:  you have triggered a hyper evolution do to meeting certain requirements your physical and mental state being in equal stressful conditions that jeopardize your life and being in a place where my Essence lingered...

    Brighton: (stands up, eyes open) w-who are you!?

    0: I am your savior.

    Brighton: ...my savior…

    (Briefly flashbacks to him falling off cliff)

    Brighton: So I really did fall off

    0: now it is time to payback your debt, you must return to the girl at once

    Brighton: but I don't know how!

    (Brighton running in same direction when he left Owen)

    0: yes you do, it is what you have always been doing...

    (Brighton running, sees cliff ahead,

    0: drifting in space... always in transit... going... from one place to another

    (Brighton jumps off cliff, flash he's gone)

    (Queen shooting needles back at pawns, Armor protecting them, queen getting tired)

    (Bishop looking down at her)

    Pawn: sir all units are running out of ammo

    Bishop: that’s fine, all units cease firing!

    (Pawns stop)

    (Queen heavily breathing)

    Queen: sorry 0, I have failed (slowly falling)

    Bishop: heh she's falling...

    (Brighton catches her before she falls)

    (Pawns shocked)

    Brighton: Sorry for earlier turns out you were telling the truth

    I do have super powers

    (Queen looking at Brighton)

    Bishop: units resume firing now!

    Pawns: yes sir! (Start shooting)

    Brighton: turns out I can do this...

    (Flash, Brighton and queen vanish, bullets hit ground)

    (Forest scenery)

    (All pawns shocked)

    (Bishop)

     Bishop: (intense) I see…

     (Screen all black)

     There’s more

    To be continued…