This is a three minute screenplay that I wrote for my friend's dad. It's only the first draft so... yeah.
It looks odd because I pasted it on and didn't have time to fix it.
FADE IN:
EXT. GRAVEYARD –DAY
MARK – about 16, dressed in black suit.
Mark, who is clearly upset, is standing in front of a grave plot which reads, “Loving Husband and Father, Alan Sloan, 1971 – 2008.”
Mark (distraught)
You said you’d always be there for us. You’d always be there to catch us if we fell. I don’t know what I’m going to do now. Mom’s taking it the hardest. She couldn’t stop crying the day we found out. Ann too, she locked herself in her room after we told her. Ben doesn’t show it but I can tell it’s changed him. And me, I’m confused. I’m really going to need you right now.
He begins to weep.
I can’t do all this alone, support the family, keep my grades up, and try to be a perfect role model. Uncle John is no help. He’ll probably wind up begging for more money.
He wipes his eyes.
Everybody keeps on telling me to try to remember the good times we shared together. My favorite memory of you was when I was seven, I was playing on my little league team. We played our little hearts out but we lost. Of course I was devastated but you came up to me and said:
“Mark, I’m so proud of you.” And I said “Why?”
And you said “Because no body played second base
As well as you did.” Then we went out for ice cream.
He smiles.
We called it our “Nearly had it” celebration. I’ll never forget that, ever. And another time, when I was ten.
(CONTINUED)
Mark (cont’d)
I had gotten in trouble for something, I don’t remember what for, and I was so mad at you. I was lying on my bed and you came in and started talking to me. I ignored you as best I could but then you turned on the radio and started dancing like a maniac.
He laughs.
The next thing I remember the whole family joined in with us. Times like that were great. I guess I never really told you how much I appreciated you. Then again, I probably never realized it myself.
His face hardens.
And all of this because some jerk thought he was sober enough to drive himself home! And likely
enough, he’s the one who walks away with out a scratch on him!
He pauses.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking like that. But
it’s hard for me. Ann will be going into high school next year. And I’m not sure how hard Ben is taking this. He’s been acting different lately. I’m going to need to talk to him about it, but I have no idea what I’m going to say.
You’ve been handling this kind of stuff for 16 years. I haven’t done it for one day and I’m already stressing out.
He looks down and lets out a sob.
The doctor said it was instant, that you felt no pain, but how are they supposed to know? Does it hurt? Dying? What runs through your mind, if anything at all? Do you think about all the people your leaving behind?
He takes in a breath.
(CONTINUED)
Mark (cont’d)
Right now, I’ve got a head full of questions, but if you were here to answer only one I would ask you how you managed to be so good at what you did. But I guess I’m just going to have to figure that out along the way.
He turns to look at a woman waiting for him next to a car on the side of the road.
Mark
I’m going to leave now, but before I go I just want to say thank you. Thank you for ice cream after a bad game, thank you for music after being angry, and most of all, thank you for being my dad. I love you.
He leaves the grave, walks up to the woman and hugs her. He looks back at the gravestone for a moment.
Mark
Let’s go mom.
He escorts her to the passenger seat of the car. He takes one last look at the grave.
Mark (whispers)
Goodbye dad.
He gets into the car and drives away.
FADE OUT.
