Oisin Kelly Writes

Tag: New writer

  • Me & The Borstal Boy

    THE GRAND CANAL MIDDAY – SUNNY

     

    Enter SEAMUS walking along the canal, at pace. We are following from behind; he is shifting his bag onto the opposite shoulder as he approaches a bench and takes a seat.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Seated, rummaging through his bag)

    Listen, I need to talk to you again, I changed some of the points around, but I just can’t get the story flowing at all.

     

    Seamus pulls a tattered manuscript from his bag and flicks through it, creasing it along the edge. He turns to show it to the statue of Brendan Behan. The statue does not reply.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Sitting back and running his pencil along the pages, occasionally looking up towards the statue)

    Why do you always look at me so interested? I haven’t written an interesting thing in this silly little book since I put the pencil to the paper.                                        I know we talked about pushing through and trusting the process but that’s easy for you to say, isn’t it?

     

    He runs his hands over his face and back through his hair. A swan is leaving the water in front of him as he speaks.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Occasionally biting on his pencil and jotting on a fresh page)

    This bit here ‘Big Troubles in Little Derry.’ Do ya really think they’ll take me seriously? I am all for a bit of humor but                                                                               that’s close to taking the piss. How did you do it, they talk about you like you weren’t half cut most of the time, and                                                                                   laughing at the world. I mean no disrespect, of course, I’m just trying to get it right. Take your man here for instance,                                                                             he’s some fella on the water but he looks a right eejit running along the path with those feet.

     

    CUT TO:

    CANAL BANK

     

    Swan running along the water’s edge towards a pile of crumbs, flapping its wings as it waddles closer. Taking the bread, enters the water and glides away into the distance.

     

    CUT TO:

     

    BENCH

     

    Seamus still seated and fidgeting with his pencil.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Getting animated, occasionally standing, and pacing while he points with his pencil)

    Off he goes there, swanning around, eh? Look, how am I supposed to talk about the political landscape when I                                                                                           wasn’t even there, it’s hardly a biography now is it. There’s something to say about it all, even now, with years                                                                                            gone by, but who am I to tell that story. It just — It keeps me up, thinking about it all and feeling like there                                                                                                were so many voices, silenced or screaming into the void, for no one to hear. I hear them, I see them, they’re                                                                                               real to me.

     

    Seamus, seated now, puts his book on the ground, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket and lighting one up.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Agitated, speaking in broken sentences, aggressively puffing on a cigarette)

    THE BORSTAL BOY. You knew how, to write it, to capture it. It wasn’t about us and them, was it. The                                                                                                         enemy, there’s one, the enemy, just people. What for, who for, people died, what about them. I’m not the                                                                                                     guy, I cant be, how do I begin, how does it end? It never will, it never will.

     

    Seamus looking resigned pulls his pack from his pocket, extinguishing the cigarette and placing it back inside of the packet and into his pocket.

     

    SEAMUS

    (leaning back, hands rested on the back of his head, looking into distance)

    We couldn’t have been romance writers, could we? Although, you weren’t too bad at making this                                                                                                                    place seem like the jewel at the centre of the world. I think the stories we tell, when they’re so full of                                                                                                              truth, are simply unpalatable. So, we soften them with prose, humor, and levity until it becomes less                                                                                                            about fact, and more about feeling right?

     

    Seamus picks up the manuscript and flicks through it making different faces at sections of writing.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Shifting in his seat, showing parts of his writing to Brendan)

    See this, well you’re lucky actually, you never did. There were ideals in your time, a battle against                                                                                                                  the system, the culture, the history. It got nasty when you left, when the voices of reason were                                                                                                                        drowned out by the undying taste for blood. It wasn’t just the enemy anymore, it was their own,                                                                                                                    it was ordinary people, it was anybody, and it was all the time. Bombs, bodies, secrets and blood,                                                                                                                  some would say for nothing.

     

    Seamus folds the manuscript over and takes a picture from the back page to examine it.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Looking at the picture and speaking softly)

    Aunty Eileen, what a woman, you’d have liked her. She’d a fierce sense of humor, the most beautiful                                                                                                             singer and she’d likely to be the first to the fight. This was the summer, the last one, before she                                                                                                                       disappeared. I was only a boy, but I know loved her, cause I feel it, I feel like I did, like I would, ya                                                                                                                 know. Sometimes, I can’t remember a thing about her, I forget her, like everyone else did. I don’t                                                                                                                   want to forget her, I don’t want to lose her, I want to find her.

     

    Seamus puts the picture back in the manuscript and folds a leg over to lean the book on it, and begins to write.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Looking down and speaking as he writes)

    What do you think justice is? Is it about payback, revenge, closure, I don’t know what I want.                                                                                                                          Guess, I just want answers, but I don’t even know the questions, or the person to ask. The thing                                                                                                                      about telling a story with a clear ending is figuring out where it all began, and I’m not so sure I                                                                                                                      know where that is. Maybe — the last time I saw her face, yeah — in the morning before the last                                                                                                                  day of school, before the darkest summer of my life.

     

    Seamus sits for some time writing. Time passes, light changes.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Packing away his things into his bag and beginning to leave)

    Well fella, we did good today, don’t ya think? I know what it’s about now, what I’m about.                                                                                                                                Her, it was always her, it had to be. Thanks for that, you’ve still got it. Now don’t go                                                                                                                                            anywhere will ya, I’ll be back.

     

    Seamus rises, stopping to smile down on Brendan before walking away.

     

     

     

    CUT TO:

     

    REAR OF SEAMUS WALKING AWAY IN EVENING LIGHT

     

    SEAMUS

    (Narrating)

    Chapter 1, Come Home Eileen.

    She stood holding court in the kitchen, in the morning, I remember it was warm, she was warm. I felt safe, I felt loved, I feel like she deserved that too, she still does.

  • Operation Solar

    The blizzard was at its height as Julie made her way across the frozen lake. Flags flew high in the distance signaling she was near the facility. She tucked herself in and pushed the snowmobile harder to break through the southern winds. As she approached, the gusts of snow began to clear and black smoke invaded the skyline. Julie stopped on the top of the hill and looked down in horror at the facility in flames. She picked up her speed and rushed down into the valley. The far side of the dome seemed less damaged so she drove there to see if she could find an entrance. When she arrived, she found the wall blown out and the light of the labs flooding like the sun out onto the snow.

    Julie made her way into the facility near the containment centre, which was empty. Wires hung from the ceiling, the terminals were destroyed, and the thick glass walls were either cracked or shattered on the floor. She moved down the hall toward the command, and living quarters. As she turned the corner she found the first body, an older technician named Joe, he was slumped over and his head dipped forward. His blood was all over the wall, the back of his skull was opened and exposed. Julie lost her footing, grabbing out for something and slipping forward, she fell into a puddle of blood. As she tried to gain her footing, not looking back, she suddenly noticed the body parts strewn about the corridor. It wasn’t quite clear how many people she was looking at. Arms, torsos, bloodied heads, scattered about. Julie tried to shield her eyes and moved towards the command.

    As she approached the double doors, she spotted a bloodied handprint. The doors had large portholes; one was lying slightly open. On the ground a hand was outstretched, stopping the doors from closing. Julie moved closer to look through the porthole. She came to realize the arm was not attached to anything, a limbless body lay in the center of the command space. The door was stiff and seemed to have been damaged, she struggled to open it and squeeze through. Julie made her way towards the central terminals where she might be able to call for help or thought she might find survivors. This was where they would be, the Command was the centre of the facility and was supposed to be the safest place. It seemed it was utterly destroyed; most terminals were damaged and there were small fires breaking out in corners of the room. As Julie turned into the room, she stood frozen as she looked up at the wall. The Director was impaled and hanging from the large research screens that occupied the entire space. The screens were flickering with footage, broken images and data. Sticking from his chest was the project solar flag, a Vitruvian man surrounded by a sun, in black and yellow detail. Julie could see other bodies and parts of people around the room and tried to focus herself on the task.

    The central terminal was beyond repair and meant she was without any means of communication. In the lower left corner of the wall, a screen was looping security footage from some hours before. Julie made her way toward the playback terminal and found it still functional. She began to search back over the footage to see if she could make sense of this tragedy. There was a power outage in the containment centre, it seems the generator kicked in, that explains the lab lights. Then it seems the security seals failed, and the pressure locks didn’t hold. The experiment, no, it woke up. It seemed to have broken through the glass walls, the security alarms began sounding but Joe was stuck in the lab, the power failed in the door. Once it escaped, it got hold of him, thrashing him against the wall before being set upon by the response team. Julie could not look away as she watched them all ripped apart and beaten to death. The final person was trying to get into the command when it caught him and used his body to burst through the doors before ripping him limb from limb.

    Julie watched as it stalked the director through the terminals, before taking the flagpole and running it through him like skewering meat, sending him flying into the wall. It made quick work of the other technicians and then set about destroying the facility. There were no cameras in the living quarters and Julie could not be sure if there was anyone left. Even worse, she was unsure where it might have gone, was it still here, she start to check the live feeds. Most cameras were down but she could pick up some flickering images. It seemed some of the south complex was still intact, perhaps people were there. The interior images showed nothing and so she began to check the exterior. Most feeds showed the storm or the billowing smoke or just flashes of white. Until she came to the tower above the containment centre, it was there. It was standing over her snowmobile, examining it, and pulling at it. Suddenly it lifted it clean from the ground and flung it into opening that Julie had entered through. The explosion shook the command, and she had briefly ducked beneath the desk during the impact. When she looked back at the screen it was no longer standing there.

    Julie broke from the terminal and ran toward the living quarters. She may be able to make it out through the rear of the food hall and into the southern complex, it may be safe there, it seemed untouched. Each door she came to lead to another new scene of death or destruction. She tried to set her mind to the task at hand but with each familiar face she passed, the fear within her grew. The roof in the food hall was caved in and hung by the suspension ropes that held the dome together. She made her way into the kitchen, the equipment was strewn about and it meant she had to climb and jump over counters and under overturned fridges. Finally, she came to the rear exit, this would take her through the tunnel and into the southern complex. She stopped and turned back into the kitchen collecting a large knife. As she entered the tunnel she noticed that the red emergency strip lights along each side were lit all the way to the southern complex. She walked down the tunnel and looked toward the large steel doors that led into the complex. There were two large yellow lights turning and flashing towards her as she came up to the door. Julie reached the steel doors, and the large security lock was engaged, maybe this was a good sign. She pulled her security badge from beneath her layers and scanned it on the keypad. A large beeping sounding filled the tunnel as the lock released and the doors opened into the complex.

    Julie stepped inside and noticed the electricity was still on and through the door she noticed a small fire, it seemed to be intentional. Her hands reached for the door, and she entered the room. At first, she could not make out the pile in front of her but it suddenly hit her, bodies. In the corner a stack of heads, their lifeless eyes looking deep into her own. The fire in the corner had bones sticking from it and Julie turned quickly, to leave the room. When she got back to the tunnel she looked down into the abyss. It was standing in the glow of the red lights looking down, and moving slowly toward her. Julie panicked and fell, crawling backwards on her hands, she had dropped the knife in her shock and was too far from it now. As it grew closer, she suddenly noticed the emergency button and rose from the ground, pressing it repeatedly, in a panic. The large steel doors began to close, and the beeping rang out once again, now it was picking up pace. The doors just shut as it reached them, and the security seal was closing but she could hear it pulling the large metal bars back into place. She made her way back into the room, and looked for another exit.

    The southern complex was where they kept the gas reserve to run the main labs, so it was set into the ground. It seemed as if it had made a type of lair here and must have been intending to settle in. Julie ran toward the rear of the room and looked for the emergency exit plans. There was a maintenance hatch that led up to the bottom of the south hill. She was considering her options when she heard the metal of the doors bending and cracking, followed by loud thuds, it was not going to hold. Julie looked around the room and thought her best chance was to make it to the outreach centre, across the frozen lake. There was still power in the computers, and Julie began to override the controls. There were loud warning sirens filling the space and a countdown was showing on the main screen by the tanks. Julie ran to the steel ladder leading up into a tube all the way to the surface, and climbed. Her body ached with each step she made towards the hatch, meters above. The sound of the door being pulled open echoed up the tube. It was in the room, then it was down below. She looked down, as it spread its arms and began to pull itself up the tube. Julie was nearly at the hatch now, and fumbling in her pocket as she rose. Julie swung open the hatch and burst out into the snow. Not taking a breath, she was over the hatch again, watching it climb. She pulled a remote from her pocket and pressed it, releasing the gas into the room. It ignited and filled the tube, engulfing everything as Julie closed the hatch over, and ran up the hill for safety.

    She watched from the hilltop as the ground around the hatch crumbled. The southern complex collapsed in on itself and she stood looking over the ruins of the facility, trying to make sense of how it had all happened. The southern hill lead down to the frozen lake so she set out towards it. If she crossed the frozen lake, she could make it to the outreach centre and contact the relief team. Each step she took cracked into the ice with intention. The studs of her boots holding her in place as the wind whipped up. She tried to set the thoughts of all her friends out of her mind. The bloodied bodies, the lifeless eyes, the limbs, it was more than she could bear. They had studied the experiment for months, getting to know its biology, movements, behaviors. It was the common consensus that proceeding was unwise. They had all agreed not to thaw out the others, all except the director. He was adamant that Operation Solar must continue, that understanding the experiment may change the world forever. The day Julie had set out for the supply run and to share the data with the relief team, the facility was winding down and they were discussing termination options. She had wondered now what had really happened and was it less divine intervention than blind sabotage.

     

    The frozen lake was an unforgiving landscape, and all Julie could think about was making it to safety. It had been hours since, and if it had followed, she had not noticed. Surely the flames would have destroyed it for good, she had hoped. The outreach centre had supplies for about a month if she needed, and it was set into the ground with thick steel walls on all sides. The hatch was the most secure she had ever seen. No storm or blizzard had ever come close to bothering her in the outreach centre. She was certain she would be safe there until help arrived. All she had to do was make it, and she may just survive. All that ran through her mind, was just how much of a miracle it was, that she had survived. The others had been torn, broken and pulled apart, here she was still standing, moving toward freedom, away from this waking nightmare. The flags of the outreach centre flapped in the wind upon the ridge and Julie felt hope rise in her. She dipped her head, forcing her way forward. Soon she was nearly upon the base of the path. Julie stopped in her tracks and looked into the distance, there it was, the man from the ice.

     

    He stood at the base of the hill staring at her, unlike anything she had ever seen. When they first discovered them, she been filled with fear. Large monstrous figures, muscular, chiseled, towering above them, frozen within the ice. Their eyes had haunted her dreams at the beginning, green with no whites always open, day and night. Now those eyes were looking at her across the lake. Julie had only ever observed him in unconscious states and now that she was looking upon him in the flesh she wondered if he was even of this world. His upper torso was as wide as it was tall, his enormous hands were spread, he held them in front as he approached her. Julie had not moved and now she was running questions in her mind with no answers. As he approached, her eye caught the ridge and she spotted them, the others, it can’t be. She cast her eyes back to him and realized it was not their man, it was another, but how. Then from behind her she heard the ice cracking. Julie turned to the thunderous sound of his feet approaching her. His body was blackened and burnt and his piercing green eyes locked with hers and she knew it was over.