THE BLACK SCRIPT (Part 1 of 2)
I used to think that I had free will, or that I governed at least some part of my own life. Now, I am not so sure.
I am afraid that every decision is made for me. Every action I perform is written in ink before it even occurs, and no matter how hard I try to go off course, I end up performing exactly as it’s typed out on those unnerving black pages that are sent to me every morning. I’ve already lost my sanity. I’ve lost my will to revolt. There’s no use in fighting it anymore. Nothing can be changed.
It started just earlier this week. I went to check my mail before work when I noticed something peculiar: a mysterious jet-black envelope tucked in between my electric bill and the newspaper. It wasn’t just black; that might not be the best way to describe it. It was as if the envelope didn’t reflect light at all. When I pulled it out and set it on my kitchen table, it seemed like there was a rectangular gap in my vision completely void of form or texture. Even more unsettling, it appeared to pull the light out of the area surrounding it, causing the peripherals to waver in a most unnatural way. When I stared into it, I felt lost, as if I was being pulled into another world. It drew me in, and before I could come to my senses my hands seemed to open the envelope before my very eyes.
Out came something just as “dark” as the wrapping. From the feeling in my fingertips I surmised that it was…for lack of a better word…paper. Maybe thirty to forty pages. It seemed to be of the same make as the envelope, and the material was unusually thick. When I touched it I felt unbearably cold, and if I wasn’t wrong I could swear my field of vision began to ebb and flow, drawing the light in and out of the world around me.
On the first page, written in a glowing silvery- white ink, was this:
Title:
August 16th, 2022
Written by:
The Puppet Master
It was that day’s date. Curious, I flipped to the next page. It seemed to be…a movie script? It had the format at least. I read the first few lines.
FADE IN:
INT. AARON’S BEDROOM - MORNING
Morning light shines through the window and illuminates a bed in the center of the room. Laying on that bed, still asleep, is AARON.
A phone on the nightstand BUZZES loudly. A melodic tune penetrates the air for a few moments before Aaron finally silences it. After a brief period of time, he gets up and stumbles into the bathroom.
CUT TO:
INT. AARON’S BATHROOM - MORNING
Aaron looks himself in the mirror. He then grabs a red toothbrush and squeezes a multicolored paste onto the bristles. He wets the brush with sink water before placing the brush in his mouth and moving it around in a circular motion for some time.
Against my better nature and the disheartening effect that the dark material had on me, I actually began to laugh. It was such a dry read. It went on like that for the first couple of pages, describing an ordinary morning routine, until it eventually described me finding a mysterious black envelope in the mail. Well it’s obvious that whoever wrote this and placed it in my mail knew I would find it before work, I thought. This seemed like the exact type of prank I would pull on one of my friends.
I then saw the clock and realized I was late for work. I was definitely interested in seeing what else the script had to say, so I shoved it in my briefcase and went about my day. Surprisingly enough though, I didn’t look at that script again for the rest of the day. I was so busy, and so tired, that by the time I took the subway from downtown and finally made it back to my apartment I ended up crashing. The next day, however, was different.
Just like the day before, I noticed a deep black envelope sticking out of my mail. Whoever’s doing this is committed, I’ll give them that. I opened the envelope at my kitchen table and unfolded yet another black script. The title and author were written in the same glowing silver/white ink.
Title:
August 17th, 2022
Written by:
The Puppet Master
Now I was even more intrigued. There has to be another forty pages here. Who has the time to write this all out? I had forgotten how terrible I felt when I had first opened the script the day before. It was back now. I felt an immense wave of irritability rush over me. Why is it so bright in here, and what the hell is that noise? The light receded, and in swelled darkness, covering everything in shadow. I felt my eyes skim over the first few pages until I came to the present moment. This was when everything changed.
INT. AARON’S KITCHEN - MORNING
Aaron brings the mail back inside and sits down at his kitchen table. He opens a large black envelope and begins to read the contents inside. After a few moments, there is a KNOCK on the door.
As soon as I read that line I was startled by a real knock on my apartment door just a few feet away. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. It’s nothing, I thought. I went to grab the door and to my pleasure I saw that it was Gladys, the kind elderly woman who lived in the apartment next door with her granddaughter.
“Hey Gladys, how’s your morning going?”
“Oh it’s just fine. I was only coming over to see if you wanted some eggs and bacon. I always cook for two, but Serena left for class with barely a goodbye before I even finished.”
I couldn’t help but give a warm laugh at the kindness of it all. “Honestly Gladys I wish I could, but I’m already late for work. How about tomorrow morning? I could definitely make it over tomorrow.”
“Oh of course. I just wanted to offer. Tomorrow then. Just don’t leave me hanging like Serena did!”
I gave another laugh. “I won’t, I promise.”
After closing my door I went to grab my things, ready to leave for work. I had almost forgotten about the script, but it caught the corner of my eye again just as I was about to leave. I picked it up, and continued where I left off:
After a few moments, there is a KNOCK on the door. Aaron goes to answer.
INTERCUT APARTMENT/HALLWAY
GLADYS, a woman of eighty-two, appears in the hallway.
AARON: “Hey Gladys, how’s your morning going?”
GLADYS: “Oh it’s just fine. I was only coming over to see if you wanted some eggs and bacon. I always cook for two, but Serena left for class with barely a goodbye before I even finished.”
Aaron laughs jovially.
AARON: “Honestly Gladys I wish I could, but I’m already late for work. How about tomorrow morning? I could definitely make it over tomorrow.”
GLADYS: “Oh of course. I just wanted to offer. Tomorrow then. Just don’t leave me hanging like Serena did!”
Aaron laughs again.
AARON: “I won’t, I promise.”
My heart skipped a beat and I immediately dropped the script onto the kitchen table. My eyes darted around my apartment in paranoia. How could someone have known that? How is this even possible? But any will I had to rationalize what was happening was nothing compared to the fear that was moving through me. The breath had seemed to leave my lungs. I bolted out of my apartment and locked the door behind me as quickly as possible, if anything just to put a barrier between me and that script.
I made it to work and went through the motions, though I was never truly present in the moment. Eventually, as morning turned to afternoon, my head started to clear. Maybe it’s not so hard to believe after all, I thought. Maybe Gladys orchestrated this whole thing knowing how I would respond. She does have a good sense of humor for an old lady. She simply just memorized her own lines. Plus, I am pretty predictable.
After work, I was standing underground at the subway station when I was approached by a familiar face. It was Serena.
“Hey! Just left work?”
“Yeah finally”, I replied. “You know your grandmother offered me the breakfast you so intentionally deserted this morning.”
She laughed. “Intentionally? Oh yeah of course. Yeah that was my plan: to have my grandmother cook for me and then totally abandon her. No honestly I like food too much to do that. I just had to go to class early.”
“Understandable”, I replied. “What about your other plan? The black scripts you guys have been leaving in my mail?”
She had a humorously curious look, as if she was being pranked. “Black scripts?” She said this in a manner that provoked an explanation.
“Yeah…you guys have been leaving these scripts for me in the mail…they outline everything I do throughout the day. They’re pretty spot on I must admit.”
“Is this a joke? I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A joke. She thinks this is a joke? I could feel anger swelling up inside of me. It wasn’t normal, this hatefulness that I was feeling, but it didn’t matter. In that moment I just hated her. Especially after what she said. Look at her face, playing this so coy. Pretending she doesn’t know.
Behind Olivia I could see a train approaching quickly from a distance. She must have seen my expression, because she continued on with an innocent vindication.
“Seriously I don’t know. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The train was getting closer, it wasn’t slowing. The noise came with it, a compelling force that demanded attention.
“Aaron are you okay? You’re starting to scare me.”
Scare you? How dare you insult me. Was lying not enough?
Before I could think I felt something pull me towards her. My arms reached out and grabbed her; I could see them grab her. I felt myself restrain her, drag her towards the track. The train was almost here now. Even with it’s noise so close at hand I could hear her scream, high and piercing. I shoved her off the ledge just before the train appeared, and she was gone in an instant.
Once the train had gone so had my anger. I stood there looking at my hands. What have I done? I began to cry. Serena. Is she really gone? Did I really just do that? The tears were streaming down my face. I managed to brace myself against a wall, vomited onto the concrete floor. I looked around and saw that there was no one else in the station. My breath was short and sudden, and I realized I was having a panic attack.
When the next train stopped at the station, it was all I could do to force myself inside. There weren’t many others in there for the ride back, but the ones that were there were staring at me. I sat there shaking, and crying, until finally I reached my stop. The script, I thought. I have to see what’s on that script.
I walked quickly. When I made it back inside my apartment I saw the script on the kitchen table exactly as I had left it. I immediately felt the effect of its presence, but I had to know what it said. I grabbed it and flipped ahead page by page until I reached a scene heading that read “INT. SUBWAY STATION - EVENING”. I skipped ahead a bit:
SERENA: “Black scripts?”
AARON: “Yeah…you guys have been leaving these scripts for me in the mail…they outline everything I do throughout the day. They’re pretty spot on I must admit.”
SERENA: (confused) “Is this a joke? I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Aaron appears disturbed. He stares at Serena with an obvious aggravation. A train approaches from a distance, speeding down the closest track. A loud FUNNELING of air builds with it.
SERENA: “Seriously I don’t know. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Aaron glares at her hatefully. The train moves closer. The funneling of air crescendos into an unavoidable white noise. Aaron stands there, still staring, his face twisted in cruelty.
SERENA: “Aaron are you okay? You’re starting to scare me.”
Aaron’s expression is so sinister that he’s almost unrecognizable. The train nears the two of them, its noise blocking out all other sound.
Aaron moves forward. He grabs Serena, wraps one arm around her neck. She flails wildly, searching for something to grasp onto, but is restrained by Aaron’s other arm. He drags her closer to the track.
There’s a CLOSE-UP of Serena’s face screaming out in terror.
Aaron shoves her off the ledge and there’s a high and piercing SHRIEK as Serena descends towards the ground below. She disappears from view and the train rushes past undisturbed.