Is Anybody Out There!



  Is Anybody Out There!

  Copyright 2015 Gordon Milburn

  Prologue

  Feeling stonewalled by the Universe, whilst attempting to tell a story, about being stonewalled by the Universe. Oh Sweet Irony why doth thee taunt me so?

  Jemma's Social Media Campaign fails to gain traction among the hordes, she ups the ante. Tragically

  . Jemma’s first Uni assignment is to create a social media campaign to raise awareness and money for a charity of her choosing.  Amongst the hundreds of thousands of other Social Media Campaigns, Web pages, she struggles to gain traction. Disheartened, she applies advice given to her in a way that it was not intended.

  We are all on a similar journey to Jemma, trying to be seen, heard, or get noticed, in a busy world.  With the Web, it's easy to put it out there, but to stand out from the crowd and get noticed that's the real issue.

  This story arose from my own frustration, as a screenplay writer. Following advice I wrote a story with minimal characters and locations to keep the costs down, with the idea of producing it myself Next I put it out there to see if the project would gain traction and my experience from this developed into “Is Anybody Out There!”

  Chapter One

  JEMMA; tall, lanky, strawberry blonde hair, glasses, exits the High School, on her last day of College, she walks with her best friend MICHELLE; raven haired, black nail polish, slight Goth thing going.

  At the bus stop the “In” clique of Senior Girls, all with phones in hand, chatter and text away.

  Anxiously Jemma glances towards the bus stop. Michelle gently, briefly, squeezes Jemma’s hand, reassuring her.

  Jemma smiles and makes her way towards the bus stop and past the Clique, to the end of the queue.

  She tries not to eavesdrop, using her phone as distraction; she scrolls the social media pages, catching up on Facebook.

  Incoherent chatter and bursts of laughter erupt from the girls, Jemma steals a glance.

  The bus arrives and they all board.

  Bus pulls out.

  It’s midday, Jemma’s still in her room, face down on the bed she’s again scrolling through social media; celebrity gossip, save the animals, friends and family, etc.

  She shows no enthusiasm for it, same ol’, same ol’.

  A knock at the door

  JEMMA

  Who is it?

  There’s only Jemma and her Father in the house.

  Father answer’s dripping with sarcasm.

  DAD

  The Snow Queen! (Sings)Do you wanna’ build a snowman?

  JEMMA

  No! But com’in anyway.

  Jemma manages a slight smile.

  DAD, enters.

  DAD

  You alright Baby Girl?

  Jemma shrugs.

  DAD

  What’s up?

  JEMMA

  Uni!

  DAD

  Scared?

  Jemma’s taken back, at being called out.

  JEMMA

  A little.

  DAD

  Over?

  JEMMA

  Same ol’ stuff. Fitting in an’ that.

  DAD

  Give it three weeks and you’ll wonder what all the fuss was over.

  JEMMA

  Dad!

  DAD

  OK, ok. The here, the now. What can I do?

  Jemma perks up and smiles, Dad’s mood sinks.

  DAD

  Shit! Do I have to come? This is when I miss your mother the most and.....

  JEMMA

  Oh Dad gross!

  Dad tries to look innocent, gesturing with his hands, what?

  JEMMA

  No.

  A Credit Card lands on the bed.

 

  JEMMA

  Limit?

  DAD

  Sweety, you’re not stupid, just be respectful.

  Dad leans in; Jemma lifts her head, so Dad can kiss her.

  Dad exits.

  In the mall, Jemma walks the brightly lit wings, she feels good.

  She’s people watching, window shopping.

  She is startled when Michelle grabs her waist.

  Jemma squeals.

  JEMMA

  B’arch.

 

  Michelle laughs, enjoying her friend’s uncomfortable moment.

  MICHELLE

  What’re you doing?

  JEMMA, shyly.

  Shopping.

  MICHELLE

  Uh, Dah.

  She pushes Jemma.

  MICHELLE

  Why?

  JEMMA

  A Makeover, for Uni.

  MICHELLE

  You shitting me, how much you got?

  JEMMA

  Not a lot.

  MICHELLE

  F’cking Awesome! Tell you what lets film it, for class.

  JEMMA

  Hell No!

  MICHELLE

  Com’on don’t be a spoiler! I’d let you film me.

  Jemma dwells on it.

  Smiling.

  JEMMA

  OK, then. What’s first?

 

  MICHELLE

  Hair. You got an appointment?

  Jemma shakes her head. Embarrassed she looks do, peering slightly towards the cheap walk in saloons.

  Michelle takes charge, to circumvent her friend’s uncomfortable moment

  MICHELLE

  Nevermind we’ll go here.

  They head towards the cheap salon.

  Later.

  Jemma’s appearance has changed; she has a 70’s retro look, like that of a photo of her Mother.

  The girls shop; window shopping at the expensive stores and visiting the cheaper department stores.

  Jemma does most of her buying at a Charity secondhand shop, bringing her retro style together.

  Dad is in the kitchen preparing dinner he hears the front door opening, Jemma home from Uni.

  DAD

  How was it?

  Jemma doesn’t show too much enthusiasm.

  JEMMA

  Ah... Good.

  DAD

  You sure?

  JEMMA

  Yeah, got my first assignment.

  DAD

  Cool.

  JEMMA

  An experiment in Social Media.

  DAD

  Eh?

  JEMMA

  We have to develop a Social Media campaign to raise awareness for a charity, cause or issue.

  DAD

  Vanilla. Teach a Man to Fish.

  Jemma is a little confused.

  JEMMA

  What?

  DAD

  There’s this Aussie Bloke, ex Copper, I think. Runs a charity funding an Orphanage. Only charity in the world doesn’t lose any money to Admin or fund raisers.

  Jemma is quickly boring with all of this.

  JEMMA

  And?

  Dad looks puzzled.

  Jemma, getting exasperated.

  JEMMA

  Vanilla?

  DAD

  Oh, yeah. Give a man a fish feed him for a day. Teach a Man to fish...

  Her exasperation building.

  JEMMA

  Yeah, yeah. The Vanilla.

  DAD

  Give the Orphans Vanilla to grow and they�
�ll be self funded. The little Tikes can feed themselves.

  JEMMA

  Could be seen as Child Labor.

  DAD

  Third world country, same, same, but different, ah.

  Jemma gives up in frustration, walks off, enters her room and closes the door.

  Jemma and Michelle are making their way home, from University.

  Jemma opens the front door.

  DAD

  Is that you Poppy?

  JEMMA

  No it’s the...

  She restrains herself from replaying the Snow Queen scene earlier.

  JEMMA

  Yeah and Michelle’s come over to help, don’t call her...

  The pair are making their way to Jemma’s room.

  Dad does a poor imitation of Darth Vader.

  DAD

  Michelle I am your Father.

  Michelle questions Jemma with a shrug.

  JEMMA

  Daaaaad!

  Jemma holds Michelle’s hand and rubs a thumb over her black nail polish, indicating her father’s connection between Michelle’s Gothic persona and the Dark side of the force, from Star Wars.

  The pair are now in Jemma’s bedroom.

  Michelle can’t help but smile.

  MICHELLE

  May the force be........

  Jemma grabs Michelle, attempts to cover her mouth, with her hand. They struggle, both falling onto the bed.

  JEMMA

  Don’t encourage him.

  TOO LATE!

  DAD

  And with you also, One who shall not be named.

  DAD

  (barely audible) Shelly, welly.

  Jemma and Michelle are giggling like school girls.

  Slowly regaining their composure.

  JEMMA

  Com’on, I’ll turn the computer on.

  The computer starts and the pair start trolling through various web sites.

  Searches include: Sexiest Videos, Funniest Videos, Most Shocking Videos, and most successful campaigns on websites such Indiegogo, Facebook etc.

  MICHELLE

  Stop! Look at that.

  On the monitor a statement reads, “Virginity Forsale”.

  Jemma is conspicuous by her silence.

  The monitor reads, “A Med Student Auctioned off her Virginity for $800,000.”

  MICHELLE

  You’re not contemplating that, are you?

  Jemma looks over her shoulder at Michelle.

  MICHELLE

  Are You? You are! It’d be to some; rich, overweight, middle aged, bald guy. Like your Dad.

  Protectively.

  JEMMA

  What’s wrong with my Dad?

  Michelle’s turns, questioning Jemma, a look.

  Jemma realizes, shakes the thought from her body.

  JEMMA

  Oh, gross.

  They both laugh at the notion.

  JEMMA

  Moving on.

  MICHELLE

  What about... Nah never mind.

  The pair continues to scroll through the never ending world of the internet.

  After another day at University Jemma makes her way down the street, as the sunlight fades.

  At her front door she pauses for a second, before inserting her key, not wanting to answer the questions, she knows her Father will ask.

  At the sound of the lock turning Dad stops slicing vegetables.

  DAD

  Is that you Baby Cakes?

  Jemma sighs.

  JEMMA

  Yeah Dad, it’s me.

  Dad restarts chopping the Veges’ for tonight’s Dinner, he’s quite deft at it.

  DAD

  How’s Uni, how’s your assignment going?

  JEMMA

  Sux!

  DAD

  How come?

  JEMMA

  Some of the other students are cracking it and I haven’t even got my immediate family to like it!

  The sound of vegetable slicing, guiltily, halts momentarily.

  DAD

  Have you seen the “Ice Challenge”?

  JEMMA

  Who hasn’t!

  DAD

  Well look at that, before the celebrities got involved.

  JEMMA

  What of it?

  DAD

  In the end it wasn’t about the charity or fund raising, it was about out doing your mates.

  JEMMA

  How’d you work that out?

  DAD

  Take the first challenge; Stand In a bucket of ice cold water and have someone tip more ice water over you.

  JEMMA

  And?

  DAD

  In the end we progressed through sitting in Utes of cold water, to having a Big Rig tip water over them and even a bloody Helicopter rain down on you. The people owned it and ran with it.

  JEMMA

  Yeah, OK.

  DAD

  What’s your project for?

 

  JEMMA

  Brain Cancer.

  DAD

  Not really a spectator sport, Sweetie.

  JEMMA

  Dad! Brain Cancer, Fucking Brain Cancer!

  Jemma storms off, slamming her bedroom door.

  The noise of slicing vegetables restarts, slowly.

  DAD

  Oh. Mum would’ve have liked that.

  Jemma lays on the bed sobbing.

  After a bit Jemma calms, breathing through her crying it until it finally abates.

  Crossing to her desk she taps the computer mouse and the photo of her and her Mother disappears.

  Jemma’ scrolling through the web, she comes across the “Hot Water Challenge”, she pauses here, next a “Self-immolation” page, she stays a little longer.

  Finally a page where Monks in protest have set themselves alight.

  She is startled by the knock at the door.

  DAD

  Dinners ready.

  Flustered.

  JEMMA

  Be right out.

  She exits for Dinner.

  Jemma heads towards the beach, she comes up on a pedestrian crossing; she carries with her a bright red, plastic, jerrycan. Her hair tied back in a, youthful ponytail and an orange wrap, similar color to that of Monks. Over her shoulder she has slung her Uni carryall satchel.

  At the crossing, a middle aged couple in a Ute give way, the husband, deliberately looks down, refusing to acknowledge his wife’s gesturing questions of the young woman with the jerrycan crossing in front of them.

  Jemma continues on, walking down the deserted beach, sun getting low on the horizon.

  A couple stroll past her, heading the other way, the woman looks over her shoulder, curious as to what this young woman is doing, but not willing to ask.

  Ritually Jemma places her satchel to the side and the jerrycan in center shot.

  Removing the handycam from the satchel she sets it on its tripod and focuses in on the jerrycan, setting the scene. She revolves the screen, so she can frame the shot.

  More people pass through, again curious but not willing to get involved.

  She moves center shot and kneels.

  She’s out of shot, cutoff at chest level.

  A RETIRED MAN walking his dog stops for a moment.

  RETIRED MAN

  You alright Luv’.

  Jemma smiles.

  JEMMA

  Yes. Thank you.

  RETIRED MAN

  What you doing?

  Shaking her head.

  JEMMA

  Nothing.

  This ends the discussion and the gentleman moves on.

  Jemma’s again adjusting the camera.

  And now to kneeling again.

  Back to
the camera.

  Finally!

  The beach is clear in both directions for a couple of hundred meters.

  Taking the jerrycan she moves a couple of paces directly sideways and pours the flammable liquid over herself, dousing herself. She shudders at the cold and spits the horrid taste from her mouth.

  Now she successfully adjusts the orange wrap so as to enhance its prominence. Releasing her hair she shakes it free.

  She moves just to the back of her position and stares at the indentation her knees have made in the sand.

  Beach goers are slowly, very slowly heading her way.

  She kneels.

  She starts her breathing, centering herself, meditating.

  She is Calm.

  The Beach goers are closer, but still a way off.

  Rising slightly off her haunches, she retrieves a box of matches from her back pocket.

  She breathes calmly and without hesitation she strikes a match and drops it.

  Whoofe, she’s alight!

  Someone’s screaming can be heard, it’s not Jemma.

  The handycam falls over, Jemma’s only partially in shot. Instead the camera films the sun going down, the jerrycan, but very little of Jemma alight.

 

  The following day, as the Sun comes over the buildings behind the beach, a small group of Uni students, led by Michelle, stand around the scorched earth, ring fenced by Police Tape.

  The Students lift the tape and someone pushes a cross into the ground, they start to lay floral tributes. Michelle hangs a Mobile phone off the cross’s horizontal, the screen is (blurred Blue) and the Like Counter continues to climb.