LIGHTS UP. THE KID, late 20's, is standing over a brown upright plot, in a cemetery.
He stares at it for several seconds. Saying nothing, but his gaze is transfixed by it. His breathing is intensifying the longer he looks at it.
THE STRANGER, about the same age as THE KID, enters.
They stand next to each other, both staring at the plot in a very awkward silence for a few more seconds. Despite him, THE KID, seems unfazed by his presence, more so on the grave.
THE STRANGER: Did you know him?
THE KID almost jumps at this. He shakes his head a couple of times, trying to snap himself out of his trance.
THE KID: What?
THE STRANGER: Did you know him?
THE KID: Who?
THE STRANGER (pointing to the grave): Chris. The guy who's buried.
THE KID: Oh, no, sorry. No, I didn't know him.
THE STRANGER nods.
That awkward silence returns, and once again the two strangers are saying nothing. Just looking over the grave.
THE KID: Did you?
THE STRANGER: Yeah, I knew him.
THE STRANGER chuckles.
THE STRANGER (CONT'D): Knew him a lot better than most people.
THE KID: I'm sorry.
THE STRANGER (exhaling a deep breath): No, don't be. It is what it is. Besides, it's what he wanted.
THE KID nods.
THE KID: What do you mean? Was he sick?
THE STRANGER: No.
THE KID looks around to see if anyone else is nearby but no such luck.
THE STRANGER (CONT'D): Well, not physically. Physically he was fine. His problems were all in his head. Not to say they weren't real. Just, the way he saw the world, and his life.
THE KID nods again.
THE KID: Was it an accident?
THE STRANGER takes another deep breath.
THE STRANGER: No. No, it wasn't. I mean, people wanna believe it was, but it wasn't. It's easier for people to believe that, but no unfortunately it was all planned and intentional. He killed himself.
THE KID gives THE STRANGER a sharp look, of shock and morbid curiosity.
THE KID: Did he?
THE STRANGER: Yep, he did. Swallowed a bottle of pills. They were prescribed to him for anxiety and depression, go figure. He tried to get help. To get past the thoughts, but he just couldn't. Of course, in a very morbid sense of irony, if you will, he used the entire bottle that was "supposed" to help him, to end it all. Terrible.
THE KID is speechless. He wants to engage, but struggles to find the words.
THE STRANGER nods.
THE KID: What, um...
THE KID clears his throat.
THE KID (CONT'D): ... I guess um. I guess he must have had a lot goin' on in his life. You know, he must have had a lot of shitty days.
THE STRANGER: Oh yeah. Yes he did. Absolutely. He had some really shitty days.
THE STRANGER folds his arms, and for the first time turns his attention away from the headstone, now towards THE KID.
THE STRANGER (CONT'D): But, he also had some really good ones too. Great ones in fact. You know the truly tragic thing is, that, when we're going through the sorts of things that he went through, you just look at the bad days, and believe me...
THE STRANGER chuckles.
THE STRANGER (CONT'D): ... there's a lot of them. There isn't a soul on this planet, that's spared those. But, when you just focus on those, you lose sight of the good ones. You lose sight of the days that get us through. The ones that make the difference. It's not just the days either, you lose sight of everything. Things that bring you joy. Things that bring you calm, and happiness. Family, friendships, vacations, holidays, things that make you happy, make you get through life a little easier. You know, those little idiosyncrasies, that make us who we are. Those things that, we like about each other. Make us unique, and special in our own ways. For some reason it's really hard to think about those. But the hard days? The hard things, the stuff that makes us feel alone, and scared? The stuff that makes us feel inferior, like that life will just never get better. Those thoughts are very easy to think about.
THE KID is not saying a word. Just staring, with that same trance, now towards THE
STRANGER, rather than the headstone.
THE KID: You must have known him pretty well.
THE STRANGER unfolds his arms and puts them in his pockets.
THE STRANGER: Yeah. Like I said, better than most.
The moment falls silent and awkward again. Neither one knowing what to say next.
THE STRANGER: So, what brings you here? I mean, I'm assuming you're here to visit someone buried. Cemeteries aren't usually places people go to just hang out.
The two chuckle.
THE KID: Actually...
THE KID looks down, almost too embarrassed to finish his statement.
THE KID (CONT'D): I don't know why I'm here.
THE STRANGER (confused): What does that mean?
THE KID: Nothing, forget it.
THE STRANGER: Well, now I have to know.
THE KID: Why's that?
THE STRANGER: Because, with all due respect, I don't like what you just said; it made me nervous. If something were to happen to you, like tomorrow if I find out that something happened that I could've prevented, I'd be responsible.
THE KID: Is that a fact?
THE STRANGER: To me it is.
THE KID: How would you even know?
THE STRANGER: You'd be surprised.
THE KID looks at THE STRANGER, unsure of what to make of him.
THE KID: It'd sound crazy.
THE STRANGER: Well, I mean a lot of things sound crazy. But, not everything sounds crazy to everybody. Your definition of crazy, as opposed to mine, could be very different.
THE KID: I guess that's a good point.
THE STRANGER: Come on, try me.
THE KID takes a deep breath, and once again looks down at the grave.
THE KID: I don't even know you. I don't know, I feel like I'm losing my mind.
THE KID rubs his forehead.
THE KID (CONT'D): I've had the same dream the last few nights. This dream that I'm...
THE KID stops, not knowing how to continue.
THE KID (CONT'D): I was at this cemetery, which I've never been to before. I mean, I've driven past it, but like, never been in it. You know? I don't know anybody buried here.
THE STRANGER nods.
THE KID (CONT'D): And, I was at a headstone. Except it didn't have a name on it. It was blank. No name, not illustrations, no bible passages, just blank. The first night I had it, obviously I didn't think much of it. I mean, we all have dreams that don't make a lot of sense. But, I just kept having it. And, last night, probably the fourth time after having the same goddamn dream, it was similar. Only this time...
THE KID closes his eyes and lets out a very loud sigh.
THE STRANGER: Only this time what?
THE KID: Only this time there was a hole. Like, dug up. And, like, they were gonna put a casket down. It was right where you're standing. But, there wasn't a casket. There wasn't anybody, or anything. Just me, the headstone, and the hole. And, I just felt this urge to jump in.
THE STRANGER: Did you?
THE KID shakes his head.
THE KID: No.
THE KID looks back at the stranger.
THE KID (CONT'D): No I didn't. But, I woke up this morning, all sweaty and confused. A little dizzy. But, I just felt like I had to come here. I needed to come here.
THE STRANGER: Did you want to?
THE KID: Did I wanna what?
THE STRANGER: Jump in.
THE KID (embarrassed): Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I did. I mean, I wish I could explain it better than that, but I can't. But I really wanted to jump in. I just couldn't.
THE STRANGER: Why couldn't you?
THE KID: I don't know. Something just...
THE KID shrugs his shoulders.
THE KID (CONT'D): Something just kept me back. Like a voice in my head, or a feeling. I don't know. I'm not religious, I don't really believe in all that "divine intervention" crap.
There is a brief few seconds of silence in that moment.
THE KID (CONT'D): Anyway, like I said, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I took a gamble to see if there really was a headstone here, which there is, but in a cemetery, finding one isn't that odd right?
THE KID nervously laughs, trying to make light of the discussion. THE STRANGER smiles to humor him.
THE KID (CONT'D): I just came to the cemetery today and found myself coming to this grave. I don't know why. I didn't even know this guy...
THE KID reads the name on the grave.
THE KID (CONT'D): Chris Circo. I never met him. I know now how he died, I wouldn't exactly call that a connection. But, here we are. It could have been any headstone at this place, like his.
THE KID points next grave.
THE STRANGER: That’s Jake Brice, great guy. But you’re right, you came to this headstone for a reason.
THE KID: What Reason?
THE STRANGER: Well who's to say there isn't a connection?
THE KID: (confused): What?
THE STRANGER: You could've come to any grave here. You're in a cemetery, plenty to choose from. But you chose this one. Why?
THE KID shrugs his shoulders.
THE KID: I don't know.
THE STRANGER: Maybe it's because you didn't choose this grave. Maybe it's because you and Chris have a much bigger connection than you think. Maybe Chris was trying to tell you something.
THE KID: Tell me what?
THE STRANGER: After you tell me what's in your pocket.
THE KID looks at THE STRANGER stunned.
THE KID: What did you say?
THE STRANGER stares at THE KID emotionless.
THE STRANGER: You know what I said.
THE KID reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bottle of pills.
THE KID: How'd you know about these?
THE STRANGER: Why are they in your pocket?
THE KID is becoming more emotionally concerned and angry. His breathing is getting heavier.
THE KID: Just answer the fucking question!
THE STRANGER continues to stare at THE KID with the same emotion.
THE STRANGER: You're gonna throw it all away right now?
THE KID: You know nothing about me.
THE STRANGER: I know everything about you. I was you. One shitty scenario after another. Growing up feeling like you can conquer the world, only to wake up one day and realize you have nothing. Or what you perceive as nothing. We're the same person kid.
THE KID: I don't need your help.
THE STRANGER: I promise, you're not some lost cause.
THE KID's emotion begins to change to anger.
THE KID (grinding his teeth): I don't want your help!!!
THE STRANGER takes another deep breath, followed by a sigh.
THE STRANGER: Life will never be fair. It will never make sense. I know you're scared, and depressed, but you can still be happy. I promise, the cancer won't kill you.
THE KID (stunned): What did you say?
THE STRANGER: Stage 2 Leukemia. I had the same thing. That's why I'm here. Was just one more shitty day in my life, and I ended it all because I didn't wanna deal with whatever would come from it. I can't promise it'll be easy for you kid. But I can promise, this won't be the end for you.
THE KID begins to cry.
THE KID (crying): I'm so scared.
THE STRANGER pats THE KID on the shoulder.
THE STRANGER: I know. You do what you gotta do. People judge it as selfish, but fuck that! In the end it's your life. I just want you to think about what I said, though. Okay?
THE KID: Why are you doing this for me?
THE STRANGER: You're a nice guy, who needs a break.
THE KID nods.
THE STRANGER puts his hand down and walks away.
THE KID: Chris?
THE STRANGER turns back to look at THE KID.
THE STRANGER: Yeah?
THE KID: Is any of this real?
THE STRANGER looks off into the distance and smiles.
THE STRANGER: I'll tell you what. I'll let you try to figure that one out for yourself. If we see each other again, I'll tell you all you need to know.
THE STRANGER EXITS.
THE KID stares motionless at where THE STRANGER left, and then looks back at the headstone.
THE KID nods his head.
BLACKOUT
Author’s Note
This story has gone through several iterations.
First I wrote it as a short film, I hoped to one day film and put into a film festival of some sort. Then, when I took a writing course and needed to write a play I rearranged this one into this play, which not to brag, I got an A on.
Your Writer Friend,
Mike