Genre: Fantasy
Plot: An amateur filmmaker accidentally predicts the future through his film.
Words to use: movie, screen, suspicion, vision, coincidence, accident, trend, framed, inspiration, reading, script, memory, deja-vu, director, actor.
The final day of filming had been a long time coming. Long days of shooting, lasting way into the evening, was finally wrapped and the director thanked everyone profusely on the last day. His vision was complete. We were all exhausted. We had no idea what was to come in the future.
When the first reading of the script, I was intrigued by the plot, the emotional nuances throughout the scenes, and quite pleased with the idea of being the main actor, the protagonist, of the story. Jim, the director, told me exactly what his inspiration was and how it came to him in a dream. Set in the future, the movie went through a series of dramatic events, an assassination of a crown prince and collapse of society with the aftermath of chaos and near extinction of morality. We only had one accident on set, someone fell from the scaffolding around the partial building made for shooting a scene. Only one felt good to me. It didn’t start a trend like many others whispered. There was always the fear of accidents, one triggering more. Bad luck dominating the creation of a movie was always a possibility, but I never believed in luck, bad or otherwise.
Now the other end of the work began, which took time. One learned to have patience, and occupy oneself with other projects. Time passed and we waited for the call to view the edits, he wanted my thoughts on what he created and I felt honored. Not every director would be so open to other peoples, including actors, opinions. But he was new and inexperienced. It felt like an opportunity to assist an amatuer. We have all been there.
The call finally came one morning, I rubbed my red eyes, answering the phone, my voice cutting through the dry throat. I had already filmed two other movies since, and barely remembered my experience. The memory goes at times, with all the stress and busy work of making movies. It is to be expected. I jumped at the suggestion to view his creation on the big screen. I turned on the large screen TV, the news playing in the background as I made breakfast. I stopped with my coffee to watch, and I had a sense of deja-vu but didn’t make any connection. It stayed with me, my mind turning over the images I saw on TV. It was probably a coincidence anyway.
Jim welcomed me to his home, the evening light starting to wane – a perfect time to watch a movie on a large screen on the back patio in front of his kidney shaped pool.
“If it is horrible,” he told me, “don’t hesitate to tell me. Don’t hold back.”
“If you are sure.” I told him, and I meant it. I have no issue with giving constructive criticism.
Light flickered, the movie started with the usual preamble. We sat in silence and watched the scenes played out in front of us. I felt him look at me off and on, his suspicion of my opinion obviously grew as I saw with the lines between my eyebrows grew deeper.
The movie ended, I took a deep breath and he waited for me. The whole time I felt shock, but now I sat in awe. I didn’t know what to say.
“So what do you think?” he asked. I looked at him leaning forward, his elbows digging into his legs, his hands over his mouth.
“I am astounded, actually. How did you do it?”
He turned toward me, looking innocent.
“What?”
“It is exactly what happened this morning. The news was playing it before I left – the assassination, playing out in the exact same sequence.”
I watched him unravel in front of me. He got up, pacing, throwing his hands up in the air. He had no explanation. A vision he got from a dream years ago. I couldn’t believe him. It was unbelievable.
“I think I have been framed,” he laughed, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
I felt dubious and he saw my face.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“I am not saying that, but … why?”
His laugh was deep and throaty. “Oh, I have enemies. Someone close to the project will be found guilty of the assassination. I know it.”
The evening ended soon after. I say goodbye, promising not to say anything. I agreed. It would be better if it didn’t see the light of day.
I didn’t sleep well that night. I tossed and turned, dreaming of the movie in random snippets.
When I woke up, it was a phone call that made me jolt upright, my world in a haze of exhaustion and stress. The voice was masked, electronic, giving me a warning that the police were on their way. Okay, I thought, throwing my phone down onto the bed, used the bathroom, and went to the kitchen to make my coffee, putting on the news. The phone call had become a distant memory.
The news announcer stopped me dead in my tracks. I choked on my coffee. I couldn’t believe it.
“Director found dead, appearantly a suicide, but the police suspect foul play possible.”
The next thing I heard was pounding my door…
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