Finding Peace

I wrote a screenplay:

Fade in:

Int. Schoolyard - day

Open on a fist, poised in midair for a punch. It moves forward slowly and then collides with a boy's face. BEN (13 years old) falls to the ground with a bloody nose.

KEVIN (much larger than Ben) is perched over Ben with a grimace on his face. The frown slowly transforms into a smile.

                             Kevin

          That'll teach you to never

          mess with me again. Are you

          going to cry?

Ben sits up and stares at Kevin grimly, hiding his pain.

                             Ben

          No.

                             Kevin

          Good. Now have a nice day.

Kevin turns away, laughing.

Ben watches Kevin for a few moments, then begins to sob quietly. Tears pour from his eyes.

Ext. Street Sidewalk- Day

Ben walks home from school, holding his books in one hand, trying to staunch his bloody nose with the other hand. He is still crying softly.

Suddenly he trips and falls, dropping his books.

Ben lies on the ground for a second when he hears a voice.

               Angie

          Ben? Are you okay?

Ben looks up to see Angie, a girl from his class.

He awkwardly struggles to his feet and runs away from her. He sprints up the walkway towards his house, brushing away tears.

Ext. Ben's house – day

Ben walks in to his house. He hears a commotion coming from the kitchen.

He walks towards the noise. He soon realizes that it is his parents, screaming and arguing with each other.

He slowly walks up the stairs toward his room, trying not to alert them of his presence.

Int. Ben's bedroom

Ben is trying to do his homework, but the commotion downstairs has grown louder.

His parents shout even louder, and Ben stares at his paper, trying to concentrate.

Smash! A plate hits the wall. Ben breaks down in tears and runs out of the room.

He pounds down the stairs.

Ben walks past the kitchen, trying to avoid his screaming parents.

He runs across his living room and exits the front door, slamming it.

Ext. Front Yard - evening

Ben comes out of the front door and walks to the sidewalk.

He stops in his tracks, unsure of where to go.

Suddenly Ben is startled when he sees Angie again.

                             Angie

          Tough day, huh?

Ben nods.

                             Angie

          Me too. Sometimes life is just

          too much.

                             Ben

          I'll say. I just feel like I wanna

          press an escape button and free

          myself from my troubles.

              Angie

          Follow me.

Ben is confused but he follows her anyway, curious.

Int. Beach – Sunset

Ben is following Angie when they come to a beach. The sunset is beautiful and bright.

                             Ben

          Wow.

Angie smiles and sits down near the water. She looks at Ben.

                             Angie

          Sometimes I just come here to do

          what you said, take a break from

          life's troubles.

Ben sits down near Angie and stairs at the water. He watches the tide move back and forth, back and forth.

Ben stares at the sunset, mesmerized. A genuine smile spreads across his face.

                             Ben (Voice Over)

          It was then that I found the peace

          that I had been missing. This

          place was a safe haven in a

          treacherous world, a place to

          forget about the battles of

          life. A sanctuary.

Ben looks at Angie, still smiling.

                             Ben

          Thank you.

Fade to black.

Home

This is a poem that I wrote.

it is late

and traffic is slow.

thousands of drivers

blare their horns

all of these people

have different stories

different histories

different backgrounds

different religions

different political views

different ethnicity

different pains

different morals

different ideals

different worlds

but one thing

that they all have in common

is a desire to see their families

to visit loved ones

to get home

Them

It had been a perfectly normal day. Nothing extraordinary. Everything was fine. And then it happened.

Hector was outside with Xavier. They tossed a ball back and forth, playing merrily. As they played they stumbled upon an empty open plain.

“Hey, pass the ball back.” Hector said.

But Xavier had dropped the ball, and was staring wide eyed at something far off.

“What is i-” Hector stopped talking. In the center of the plain was a strange metal contraption.

They said nothing as they slowly approached this mysterious object. When they were closer they stopped walking. Sweat beaded on Xavier's brow and his heartbeat quickened. He looked at Hector and swallowed.

“What do you think it is?” He said, frightened.

Hector looked at Xavier.

“I don't know.”

They both stared at the object. It was big and had four metal legs. A cone shaped pod was perched on top, with a door on the side. Hector began to go towards it.

“Are you crazy?!?” Xavier yelled. “Get away from there.”

It was at that moment when they heard a loud hiss. They looked around and saw nothing. Both of them froze in their tracks.

Hiss! The noise again. Xavier looked around wildly. But Hector was pointing at the contraption.

“Xavier, look!”

The sound had been coming from the object. The door was opening.

“RUN!” They yelled simultaneously.

Both of them sprinted for their lives, not knowing what was happening, but knowing they had to get away from it.

“Stop! Wait!” A voice yelled. Xavier screamed and ran faster, but Hector stopped.

“That's my dad!”

They ran to Hector's father and began to tell him what had happened.

“I know. You must follow me, and you must do it quickly.”

Without hesitation, Hector and Xavier followed him until suddenly he stopped. He knelt down, and brushed some rocks away from the ground, revealing a small chrome door. It was a hatch. Hector's father opened the hatch and beckoned them urgently.

“Get in! Quickly!”

Xavier hurriedly entered the hatch. Hector began to enter, but took one last look back at the metal contraption.

The door on the cone was fully opened. A shadow began to emerge. Hector's heart beat like never before.

But before he could see what it was, his father yelled.

“HECTOR! Get inside! Hurry!”

He ducked inside and climbed down the ladder, into a small bunker. Other family members and friends had already gathered and looked as frightened as he did.

His father clambered down the stairs after him. He began to shut the door of the bunker when Hector grabbed his shoulder.

“Who are they? Where did they come from?”

His father avoided his gaze.

“Humans. Humans have come to the moon.”

He slammed the door.

Trapped

Here is a short story that I wrote:

   My old man always used to say in his gruff voice “William, you better stay on your own land or your gonna get y'self in a heap o' trouble.” But we were simply striplings, headstrong and curious. We were young and proud, not a care in the world.

    I remember the date. March 17. A beautiful spring morning. Me and the boys were foolin' and playing Daniel Boone when we passed my father's land markers and ventured onto Farmer Green's land. Now of course we were not allowed, but Farmer Green owned acres of land. Hilly terrain of trees and grass as far as the eye could see. He would never know we had been there.

    My friend Thomas chuckled. “Throw it over here, Billy.”

    I laughed and and threw the baseball. “My pa would kill us if he'd hear about us goin' past the land markers.”

    Another one of my pals, Stevie, ran past me. “Ah, lighten' up, Bill, nobody's ever gonna find us out.”

   “I guess you're probl'y right.” I laughed again. “Throw it back, Tom.”

    We played like this for a few minutes until we heard a rustling noise.

    “What was that?” Stevie exclaimed.

    I looked around. “I don't know, prob'ly a coon.” We threw the ball around until suddenly we heard a voice.

     “Get off my land or I'll shoot you youngins, you hear me?” Speak of the devil, it was Farmer Green.

    We ran. We ran for our lives. We ran until we came to an open area, full of dead grass and planks of wood.

    “Run!” I yelled. “We best be gettin' back to our own land or he's gonna kill- AAH!”

    All of a sudden I felt like I was waking up from a dream. I did not know what had happened. All I knew was that my entire body hurt. My first thought was that Farmer Green had shot me, but I would have been dead if that had happened. I opened my eyes. It was dark and stuffy. What had happened to me?

    It dawned on me like a slap in the face. The planks of wood in the field had been covering up a deep hole of some sort. I had tripped and fallen down it, knocking myself unconscious.

    The first thing I wanted to do was scream. I tried to take a deep breath, but instead got a mouthful of dirt. I coughed and spluttered, and began to cry. My body shook furiously, but I could barely move. I screamed like a madman. Dirt fell upon my head. My arm hurt like nothing that I had ever experienced. I began to hyperventilate, breathing extremely hard. It was then that I realized that making a scene would not help me get out of this hole. I attempted to calm down and take hold of my surroundings.

    It was pitch black, I could not see my hand in front of my face. My entire body ached thoroughly, but my right arm screamed in pain. I rubbed it. It was cut and covered in blood. I must have scraped it on the wood planks. Maybe I could climb out of this hole. I pushed upward, but I could not move my legs. They must have been broken, I knew it. Once again I began to hyperventilate and make a scene.

“HELP! HELP! THOMAS! STEVIE! MA! PA! HELP ME! HELP ME! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” I screamed and called for help for quite some time, until I realized that nobody could hear me. My only hope was that someone had seen me fall down and would get help.

    After struggling some more, a mysterious calm came over me. I did not feel the need to struggle. I actually felt relaxed. But from my lessons at school I realized that it was because of the limited air supply. My body did not have enough oxygen so it was attempting to shut itself down.

   I cried some more. If only I had listened to my father, I would not be in this mess. I promised myself that if I got out of this, I would obey my old pa whenever he told me to do something. But if I died in there, I would never see him again.

I must not die, I told myself, I must not die, I am too young too die. Again I attempted to push myself up to the surface, but it was no use. There was no denying it, I was trapped. Trapped, I repeated it to myself. Trapped. Trapped! I decided that my best bet was to stay awake and alert. They would come looking for me eventually, they would rescue me.

    But the longer I stayed in there, the harder it became to breathe. Sleep crept over me like a disease. The lack of oxygen and the shock of being trapped must have rendered me delirious, because I began to have an imaginary conversation with myself.

    “Sleep, Billy, just close your eyes and relax.” A voice inside of me said.

    “No, I ain't gonna sleep, I have to stay awake!”

    “Don't fight it, Billy, just sleep.” The voice wheedled and cajoled me, but I stood firm.

    “No! I MUST STAY AWAKE!”

    “Just give in to the urge Billy, give in.”

    But I knew I mustn't give in. If I did give in I would not wake up again. I must fight. Fight to stay alive. Fight to see my family again. Fight to see my friends again. Fight to see the world again.

    My strategy was to occupy my mind to keep myself awake. I thought of my family. I thought of my old man with his gruff voice and his aromatic stogies. I thought of my loving mom. I thought of my brothers James and Robert and my sister Marian.

    I remembered when I had broken the window with a baseball and blamed it on Thomas. I laughed when I recalled how furious my father had been when he found out it was me. I remembered the extensive lecture he had given me about lying.

My eyes watered as I prayed that somebody would rescue me. I would have preferred for my father to be furious at me. Anything to get me out of that God-forsaken well.

    After staying awake for what seemed an eternity, the air supply grew dangerously low, and the voice became more persuasive than ever.

    “Sleeeep. Sleeeep. Sleeep.” It sang.

   Eventually, I knew that I must give in to the urge. I could not keep my eyes open, and nobody was coming for me. I would probably die, but I had to sleep.

Without warning, someone grabbed my hand. It was probably the hand of God coming to take me to heaven, but it was someone coming to rescue me, and that was all that mattered.

` At that same moment, I fell asleep.

   The next thing I knew I heard a voice.

   “Billy, Billy, wake up.”

    I opened my eyes. Light engulfed my vision.

    “Is this... Heaven?” I inquired to the voice.

    “No, William, it's me, I got you out of that hole. You're safe now. Don't worry.”

    My eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. I began to weep for joy. I recognized that voice, it was my pa, my old man. He had rescued me and put me on my bed. Tears streamed out of my eyes like rain from thunder clouds. I hugged my father tightly, something I hadn't done in a long while. I had survived!

    “But how?” My words came amidst tears.

    “Farmer Green ran to me as soon as you fell. He may be a bit of a toughie, but he saved your young life.”

    More celebration tears came as my family entered the room. I hugged all of them, thankful to be alive. I have learned one crucial lesson from this ordeal. No matter what your parents tell you, whether or not it seems important, they tell you because they love you. Their rules are there to protect you. Following these rules may very well save your life.

The End

The Warrior and the Warlord

Here's a poem that I wrote:

Upon the narrow road there tread

a Warrior clad in mail

Wearing a helm upon his head

he rode along the trail

He sat upon a valiant horse

a steed so fair and white

It ran with all such speed and force

and carried the mail-clad knight

The Warrior raced and did not yield

then gave a piercing cry

He emerged upon the battlefield

and put fear in his enemy's eye

Left and right he smote his foes

fighting with vigor and zeal

Dealing out many savage blows

with his broad sword forged of steal

The leader of his foes came into sight

a terrible Warlord

His great black helmet was a fright

and he carried a long pointed sword

The warrior saw the Warlord and

charged at him on his steed

On his sword he placed his hand

And swung at the Warlord with speed

His sword struck hard and true then

It broke the Warlord's blade

And then the Warrior struck again

And the Warlord was so slayed

The warrior gave a victory shout

And his foes then fled

His enemies had figured out

That their leader was dead

The warrior urged his horse to run

He knew he could not stay

He went back to the narrow trail

And he trotted away