X INT. WRITER'S NOTE — 12 AM MONDAY — APRIL 26 2018
Bob Washington is a film director with Josh Washington following his footsteps. I intend to respect that about our beloved character and write this fic as if I am writing a screenplay.
I do love writing scripts. Addicted to it, in fact. You can say I'm a bit like Josh. Too similar for comfort, to be honest. The only difference is that my sister is older and alive, and I am not rich. Everything else? Nearly the same.
X INT. WRITER'S NOTE — 10PM SUNDAY — JULY 20 2019
The italicized parts are the position of the cameras. Originally not part of the script but I also want to show my passion for cinematography and so I am here to show you the cinematographer's notes in between the writers' and director's notes.
UNTIL DUSK
by
CA Hawkins
(Allysa)
CHARACTERS
JOSHUA WASHINGTON
19. "Josh". Psychology student (Dropout). Homebody. Anti-bullyist. Wants to be a film producer. Thoughtful. Loving. Complex.
CHRISTOPHER HARTLEY
18. "Chris". College student. Nerd. Techie. Wants to be an app designer. Methodical. Protective. Humorous.
ASHLEY BROWN
17. "Ash." High school student. Bookworm. Extra. Wants to be an author. Academic. Inquisitive. Forthright.
SAMANTHA GIDDINGS
18. "Sam". College student. Animal-lover. Pacifist. Wants to be a conservationist. Diligent. Considerate. Adventurous.
MICHAEL MUNROE
18. "Mike". College students. Womanizer. Misogamist. Wants to be the president. Intelligent. Driven. Persuasive.
JESSICA RILEY
17. "Jess". High school student. Partier. Provocateur. Wants to be a model. Confident. Trusting. Irreverent.
EMILY DAVIS
18. "Em". College student. Overachiever. Narcissist. Wants to be a magazine style editor. Intelligent. Resourceful. Persuasive.
MATTHEW TAYLOR
17. "Matt". High school student. Athlete. Meathead. Wants to be a professional linebacker. Motivated. Ambitious. Active.
ALAN HILL
62. "Dr. Hill". Psychiatrist. Defuser. Adviser. Patient. Intuitive. Resolute.
MELINDA WASHINGTON
47. "Linda". Manager. Responder. Supporter. Respectful. Permissive. Hard-working.
ROBERT WASHINGTON
49. "Bob". Movie director. Hollywood mogul. Perfectionist. Hard-working. Stubborn. Driven.
SETTINGS
A month after the disappearance of the Washington sisters last February 2, 2014. Morning. California, USA.
DETAILS
2:39:1 Aspect Ratio.
Direction by Will Byles.
Music by Mac Quayle.
ARRI Alexa cameras.
SxS card recorders.
01 BLACK SCREEN
Constant static ringing. Fading in a clicking noise — a metronome.
Muffled voices slowly fade into the background, male and female teenagers. Overlapping conversations, incoherent.
An echoed voice. Male, concerned.
MAN (V.O)
Josh? Josh?
CUT TO:
02 INT. DR. HILL'S OFFICE — DAY
A psychiatrist's office. Daylight coming in through the window. Daylight hitting the filled wooden bookshelves. A breeze slightly making the red curtains enter the screen.
The speaker is DR. HILL — sixties, sharp-eyed, intelligent. He stares straight at us with concerned understanding eyes.
The camera angle at the center — oddly framed, below the middle half of the screen.
Only Dr. Hill's head and upper torso. Heavy amounts of negative space.
DR. HILL
Josh?
JOSH — nineteen, exhausted, confused. Starring at an area to his right.
Blinks once, twice.
DR. HILL (O.S)
(firmly)
Josh?
Josh looks down. His voice is hoarse, low, exhausted.
He's not happy to be back here again —
— but he trusts Dr. Hill.
JOSH
Yeah?
Dr. Hill stares deeply at us, concerned, hiding his pity. What to do with this boy?
DR. HILL
Are you here with me?
Back at Josh.
His eyes, wide, moving rapidly at nothing on the floor. His posture tense. He sighs.
What should he tell him? Is he really present at the moment? Is he really here?
Not really.
JOSH
Yeah.
Silence. Dr. Hill continues to stare at us.
Is Josh sincere? Should he pry? Should he stop? Of course, not...
He sighs and leans back.
Camera angle shifts. Both on screen. Large negative space — both near the bottom left of the screen. Josh's back nearly touching the end of the screen. Camera looks as if mounted up on the wall. Lots of negative space above.
Dr. Hill, sitting on a blood-red cushioned armchair in front of Josh, sitting on a similar but taller armchair.
Legs crossed. Pen and notepad forgotten in his hands. Office desk behind Josh, unused.
Josh sits meekly, leaning forward, avoiding eye-contact. Feet planted on the floor. Posture curled. Elbows on the arms of the chair. Hands clasped. Wary. Fidgeting. Extremely uncomfortable. Anxious.
DR. HILL
Do you think you're ready to talk?
JOSH
About what?
DR. HILL
(gently)
"Who", Josh. About "who".
JOSH
(quietly)
Who?
DR. HILL
(softly reprimanding)
Josh.
JOSH
(cuttingly)
I know... I know. I know. I know.
Josh sighs. Head hanging down. Knuckles turning white from clenching them together.
He hates this. Why should he talk about it? He doesn't want to talk about it — No.
DR. HILL
Josh, I'm aware that what happened
a month ago is hurting you —
Josh shakes his head, turns his head away.
Doesn't he see that he doesn't want to talk about it? Why the hell is this still going on?
DR. HILL (CONT'D)
And I want to help you out of this
pain but you need to tell me what's
wrong. We've been here before,
Josh. You know that you need to
talk to me.
JOSH
Why does this matter?
DR. HILL
Because you love them both.
Josh shakes his head vigorously. Waving his hands in front of him, leaning back on the armchair. Defensive position.
He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to address it. He can't handle it.
Why the hell is Dr. Hill still talking?
JOSH
No, no, no. We're not starting on
this.
DR. HILL
Josh, we have to talk about —
JOSH
(fidgeting, angrily)
NO!
Dr. Hill stares at us with kind yet sad eyes. Josh is sick. He cares about Josh.
DR. HILL
Can you tell me why you don't want
to talk about this?
Close-up of Josh at the center of the screen. Negative space above his head.
Still looking away. His eyes defiant and angry instead of lost. Angry. Irritated.
If he's going to force him to talk, he's not gonna make it easy. Fuck it all.
JOSH
Yes.
Long pause. We stay with Josh. Slightly rocking himself back and forth and does not seem to be aware of it.
Dr. Hill knows what he's doing. Josh doesn't want to deal with the technicals. He sighs.
He's going to humor him for now. Better than reprimanding him. Who knows what could happen if he did.
DR. HILL
Will you?
JOSH
No.
DR. HILL
Why?
For the first time, Josh stares back at us, intense —
— eyes haunted and bloodshot —
— eyes of a tired man who had seen too much —
— on the verge of a meltdown.
JOSH
My sisters are not dead.
CUT TO:
03 BLACK SCREEN
An Until Dawn "O-Death"-like rendition of "Tin Box" by Minute Taker.
Ref: octagonalrecords . bandcamp track / tin-box
In a tin box stuffed with souls,
Somewhere between first and fourth floor,
With coffee cups and straight elbows,
I awkwardly stare at the door.
FADE IN:
04 EXT. SKY — LATE AFTERNOON
Blurred background slowly focusing in. Leaves falling in the afternoon sky. A Title Card that reads
UNTIL DUSK
in Knockout Flyweight font fades in then fades out. Another Title Card that reads
CHAPTER ZERO
in Optimus Princeps font, as well as
The Degeneration
in Knockout Flyweight font, fade in then fade out. Continuation of Opening Credits —
— images of cameras, files, phones, bottles, pills, guns, awards, etc. —
— names appear on screen in Knockout Flyweight in small font —
— main cast and crew.
FADE IN:
05 EXT. WASHINGTON MANSION — CALIFORNIA — MORNING
Bright morning. Some leaves falling from the spring breeze. Cars occasionally pass by.
The background slowly sharpen to reveal a homey mansion.
Beige walls and brown details give a lightly tone. Perfect home for a happy family of five. Extravagant enough to display the lifestyle of a successful Californian family, built on their obsessive perfectionism.
Three knocks on wood. A pause. Another three knocks.
A muffled voice. Female, worried, frantic.
WOMAN (V.O)
Josh?
(knocking on the door)
Josh, open the door.
CUT TO:
06 INT. JOSH'S ROOM — MORNING
Josh is lying on his bed. Eyes closed.
Room is in the dark, save for a glimmer of sunlight entering through a small crack between the curtains of his bedroom window.
Cocooned in his several blankets and pillows — replacement for a weighted blanket often used by those who are mentally or emotionally unsatisfied.
Josh needs that comfort. Barricading himself from the rest of the world.
The female voice. Suddenly muffled as if underwater at a distance.
WOMAN (V.O)
(assertively)
Joshua, open this door right now.
Camera shifts to show Josh's face right side up to the left side of the screen — done by tilting the camera at a 90º angle.
Exhausted red-rimmed eyes slowly open to look directly at us, staring at both us and nothing.
He didn't get any sleep at all.
The camera moves along Josh's head — making him look still in a moving environment.
He sits up slowly from his bed. Blankets and pillows fall from his shoulders, circles around his waist and lap. Reveals a damp blue shirt.
Dark tension rising music grow louder and louder — creeping in.
The muffled sound of a key being used to open a door.
The door in the background swings open with a figure of a woman appearing in the doorway. Pauses for a moment, dropping her hands from the knob.
Her voice still muffled and distant.
WOMAN
Josh! Josh!
Josh continues to stare at us.
Background stays blurry. Voices still muffled.
The woman moves away from the door to go around the bed, momentarily off-screen. Suddenly sits down beside Josh. Continues to yell his name but ignored. Who is she?
She places a hand on his arm.
Josh startles at the touch, flinching away, staring at her in fear and panic.
Camera angle shifts.
External sounds of activity appear.
The woman is MELINDA — mother of the Washington siblings — dead kind eyes, smile wrinkles, exhausted and haunted features.
A beautiful woman who loved and lost too much.
MELINDA
(evenly)
Josh, are you awake?
JOSH
(sluggishly)
Huh? What?
Josh looks around, confused, forgetting how he managed to sit up from his own bed.
He rubs his eyes and face. Hands gliding through his hair.
He sighs, trying to physically lessen the overwhelming exhausting from his mind and body.
MELINDA
Are you awake now, sweetie?
He ponders over the question hesitantly.
He's not so sure anymore. Everything to him is a nightmare.
He'd rather not be awake.
JOSH
...Yeah.
MELINDA
(sighing sadly)
You forgot these downstairs.
She brings up her hand to show a white bottle with the label "Elavil" in front. Prescribed medication for Amitriptyline.
Josh looks at the bottle for a few moments before taking it from her with slow shaking hands. Elbows on knees, cradling the bottle in his hands. He stares at it for a long time.
Melinda sighs. What is he thinking? What should she do about him? How could she help him?
What's wrong with Josh?
MELINDA
You know you have to take one pill
a day.
JOSH
(dismissively)
Yes, yes. I know. I know. I know!
(sighing apologetically)
I know that, mom. I'm sorry.
MELINDA
(pausing to look at him)
It's gonna be okay, Joshua. We —
we'll get through this. In some way
or another. We'll be okay.
Josh clenches his jaw, refusing to show his despair and misery —
— uses anger and irritation to mask the pain.
It's all he lets himself feel nowadays. It's easier. It's quicker. Better to handle.
Melinda backs off, knowing her son is not welcoming anymore. Stands up.
Josh doesn't move. She kisses him on the top of his head —
— his eyes closing in longing, and self-loathing.
He doesn't believe he deserves the luxury of comfort from his loving mother.
Why does she still love him?
MELINDA
All right, your dad and I have to
leave in a few minutes. You be
good, okay?
JOSH
(still staring at the bottle)
Yeah...
MELINDA
Okay.
She pauses for a moment, as if about to say something —
— but doesn't —
— instead, moves away —
— closes the door behind her —
— then leaves the room.
As soon as the door clicks shut, Josh immediately opens the bottle of Elavil —
— places three pills on the palm of his hand —
— dry-swallows them with a grimace.
He sighs. Closes the bottle to place on the bedside table. Leans back to lie his upper body on the bed.
Camera angle shifts. Directly above Josh. Looking down on him.
Blank emotionless eyes staring at us.
He feels nothing.
No.
He doesn't want to feel anything.
JOSH
...Beth? ...Hannah? You guys here?
(pausing for a moment)
No? Nothing? Not a single word?
Good good good good. That's
good. I'm alone now. I'm alone now.
Good. I'm alone. I'm alone. Alone.
(voice breaking)
I'm all alone.
His emotionless face breaks into the start of an emotional breakdown. Tears prickle at the corner of his eyes.
He reaches his hands up to his face. He's angry at himself again.
JOSH
(distraughtly)
No no no no. No more crying. No.
No more.
A cry. Female. Echoed. Distant. Muffled dream-like sounds of activity.
Josh's eyes snap open, removing his hand from his eyes to settle on his cheeks. Too shocked to comprehend at first. His breathing goes erratic.
A distant sniff.
Camera angle shifts.
Blank wall. Distorted sounds gone with a whip.
JOSH INTO FRAME as he sits himself up in a state of panic. Shirt drenched with sweat and tears. Looking around his room — where is it? Where is it coming from?
A voice. Female. Quiet. Echoed. Distant.
VOICE (O.S)
It's okay... It's gonna be okay.
Josh scoots himself up to sit at the foot of the bed. Removes the blankets and pillows to reveal black sweatpants. His head turning everywhere to search for the voice.
Where? Where is it coming from?
Camera angle shifts from the table with the top of a covered computer chair at the focus of the screen.
Josh is blurred in the background, standing now beside the bed for a moment before walking towards us, and takes the cloth covering the computer chair. He removes his damp shirt and drops it on his bed before wearing the black shirt from the chair.
He turn on the spot. And turns. And turns.
JOSH
Hello?
Frantic with his movements. Not wanting to get lost in his shirt. Not wanting to stay in the dark anymore. Not again.
He stands in the middle of his sorry state of a room — an old place of comfort, now a place of nightmares.
Another cry.
Josh swivels around where he stands.
JOSH
(panicking)
Where are you?
Josh picks up a baseball bat somewhere off-screen.
The sound of crying gets louder, as if it's outside.
Camera angle shifts. As if placed at the top of the door.
Josh stands with the baseball bat, before raising it in a proper position, staring at the door with wide eyes, panic laced with horror. Who could it be?
Is there somewhere out there to get him? It's happening, isn't it? He's next. He's next. He's next.
JOSH
I have a baseball bat. You do not
want to know how good I am at
using it.
Crying gets louder as the door creaks open to —
CUT TO:
07 INT. HALLWAY — WASHINGTON MANSION — MORNING
— a large hallway.
Camera is down the hallway.
Sunlight entering the windows on the right wall. Beige walls with white and brown accents. Wooden end-tables with vases of flowers. Paintings adorning the walls. It's a beautiful warm home.
Josh is at the end of the hallway, slowly entering the middle of the screen. Walking cautiously.
He's the complete opposite of his surroundings — clad in black clothing, barefoot, pale, wide panicked eyes, frantic but slow movements, baseball bat positioned. He's a cold contrast to the warm environment.
JOSH
(cautiously)
Hello?
Crying. Another voice, louder than earlier.
Josh swivels around in a panic, looking around, even above the walls. He's still alone in the hallway. Slowly walking through the hallway in alarm, breathing loudly.
VOICE (O.S)
It's going to be okay... Come on.
Josh freezes. What...? But...? How...?
Slowly, he straightens himself up, moving as if in a trance as he stares at one of the doors in the hallway.
We hear him stammer as he stares at it, raising a hand to place on the middle of the door. Standing straight before letting it creak open slightly.
Camera angle shifts. Through the crack of the door.
We see a girl with her back on us, sitting on a white beige bed. She has black hair, wearing a black shirt and jeans. Hunched over. Crying on her hands.
Back at Josh with the camera standing beside him.
His eyes are wide and panicked. Mouth moving but not saying anything. Frozen.
Back through the crack of the door.
OTHER GIRL ENTERS INTO FRAME through the crack.
It's BETH — one of Josh's sisters — wearing a beanie, yoga pants, and a gray woolen sweater.
She kneels in front of the other girl who could only be HANNAH — her twin sister.
BETH
Come on, Hannah. It's okay. He'll be
here. I bet you, he will be.
Hannah continues to sob, as if she's not hearing Beth.
Josh watches the scene unfold with trembling lips.
Hannah and Beth suddenly turn. Staring wide-eyed at us.
Hannah's eyes are red-rimmed behind her glasses. She sniffs, straightening up from her crying. Beth stays in her position but staring right at us with a concerned look on her features.
HANNAH
(voice cracking)
J — Josh?
Josh steps back from the door.
BETH (O.S)
Josh, what's wrong?
Shaking his head, he runs away.
Camera angle shifts to down the hallway.
Josh moves away from the door, dropping the baseball bat as he flinches back, before sprinting away.
No more.
CUT TO:
X INT. RESEARCH — 3 AM MONDAY — APRIL 16 2018
The Washington Family lives in Burbank, California.
According to Josh's medical record (found by Sam if she successfully hides from the psychopath), his prescribed medications are shipped to "Washington Pictures Incorporated, Valley Town, Burbank CA 90321."
The fact that they shipped it wherever "Washington Pictures Incorporated" is, that would mean that they live nearby that area. It would be assumed that WPI is where Bob and Melinda Washington would be most likely spending time in.
I tried searching Valley Town and CA 90321. I found nothing.
To add to that, according to the records, Josh went to Ocean View Adult Psychiatric Hospital which is located at Long Beach, California. This is a 58-minute car-ride away from the heart of Burbank, California. It's logical they are somewhere near the area. Especially since the area is near Hollywood.
X INT. WRITER'S NOTE — 3 AM MONDAY — APRIL 16 2018
And so that ends Scenes 01 to 07.
I apologize for those who had been waiting for me to continue writing on my Sherlock fan fictions. I haven't found the motivation to continue them. I haven't even continued making edited videos of the series, even though I had been constantly posting videos weekly. I merely stopped.
I'm going through some medical problems right fact, Josh Washington's predicament managed to convince me to admit myself to a psychiatric ward in a hospital. I'm now medicated but we'll see where that goes.
Don't worry. I'm not seeing things like Josh is. Although, I have been witnessed to mutter to myself, and I am aware that I am talking to people who aren't there (I don't see them, don't worry). I've been more paranoid, too, but I'm sleeping more.
Hopefully, I finish this one. I am obsessed with film-making. I rather regret not taking it as a course, settling myself with a business degree, but hobbies are hobbies, and I do want to make short films. I just don't have the equipment to do so. Guess I'll have to settle with screenplay writing.
X INT. WRITER'S NOTE — 11 PM SUNDAY — JULY 21 2019
How time goes by.
You should have worried because I've been seeing things — animals that aren't there (dogs, flies, etc.), shadows at the corner of my eyes, rainbows coming out of people's ears.
I'm Schizophrenic. Like Josh.