INT. JONATHAN HOWARD’S HOUSE – PRESENT DAY
Cuts back to Jonathan brushing his teeth in his bathroom. The shot shows the scene from an overhead camera shot with him over his sink in the center of the frame. He then spits out his toothpaste and begins vigorously bleaching his sink to remove any traces of his ironically white toothpaste.
None of these events that sparked the increase to his already acute social disorders, however, are on Jonathan’s mind as he is brushing his teeth, as he does before and after every meal.
Jonathan finishes his sink cleaning and leaves the room. CUT TO:
INT. JONATHAN HOWARD’S HOUSE – MORNING
We see Jonathan enter his kitchen and start making himself a bowl of cream of wheat. The kitchen is like the rest of what we have seen of his house immaculately clean and mostly bare with the exception of a few pieces of furniture as well as books and clocks. Everything is also just as monotone as the rest of the rooms have been. Being a kitchen, however, there are of course some cooking utensils, all stainless steel and organized. The narrator continues his discourse without pause.
Jonathan Gerald Howard is, however, thinking about the project he is going to begin working on in exactly 30.49 minutes from now.
We see Jonathan mixing his cream of wheat in a very meticulous way.
You see, besides being an orphan that happens to also be an obsessive-compulsive agoraphobic, Jonathan Gerald Howard is a best selling author of murder mysteries; the patriotically horrific kind.
Jonathan has been making his cream of wheat in a short sequence in the time the narrator took to say this now sits down at his noticeably clean and bare table.
In fact, Jonathan the writer was hailed as the “Stephen King” of murder mysteries, or according to several very reputable critics at least.
Fortunately for him his fans seem to agree with sales, shortly making him more money than he had thought possible… for someone who all the kids thought was a freak.
With this thought in his mind, Jonathan let a small smile almost reach his lips.
Jonathan almost smiles in the corner of his mouth, but he stifled it before it could spread. The smile is suddenly gone and he is eating seriuously again
There was no sense in dwelling on the past. Besides, it messes with
mouth in a business- ones’s routine, he thought to himself as he resumed eating now exactly 3.57 seconds behind from his momentary lapse in eating. For the author this was another normal day, and he liked to make sure not a tenth of a second was wasted.
Jonathan takes another bite of the food in a solum manner.
NARRATOR (CONT’D) Unknown to him he had better use the remaining 3 minutes 29.8 seconds that he had left, for Jonathan Gerald Howard only had 3 minutes 24.3 seconds to live.
Jonathan get’s up and cleans his bowl over… and over.
As he cleaned his bowl he began to let his mind plan how he would change the plot of the book he was working on, he suddenly remembered something.
Jonathan stops washing suddenly and groans.
It was the day his editor would be sending back copies of the proposed first few chapters.
Unfortunately for him he seemed to have the only editor that refused to use e-mail.
Jonathan puts the dish he’s been walking away and leaves the kitchen.
For most this would only be a mere inconvenience, for Jonathan Gerald
Howard, however, it could only mean one thing…
INT. JONATHAN HOWARD’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS
Cuts to show the front door of his house from the inside in filling the middle of the screen.
… Jonathan Gerald Howard would have to walk 5.29 meters out of his house to his mailbox, turn around, and walk the 5.29 meters back.
Jonathan comes onto the screen without angle changing. Then it cuts to show his hand shakily reach out for the locks and very, very slowly unlock them.
At the times when this happened all that Jonathan Gerald Howard could think of was the words “I can’t do this” repeated in his head like a bad song you couldn’t get out of your head.
JONATHAN (With a shaky voice)
I can’t do this.
Sometimes he said it out loud as well.
Jonathan closes his eyes and opens the door and light and wind suddenly rush in like a roar from the outside. He slowly opens his eyes and steps one foot out the door then the other one.
I… I can do it. I can.
NARRATOR Unfortunately and unknown to Jonathan Gerald Howard, it might have been better for him to have not. For just at that moment the time ticking until his death hit 0.0.
2 gun shots ring out and we see Jonathan’s shock and fall back to the ground.
body recoil in shock and fall back to the ground.
Jonathan Gerald Howard, was dead.
FADE TO BLACK
[I have to say I really like this story, and I want to share more of it, but the formatting is a PAIN to do here on wordpress so I might go back to my other works for now!]