Parcel Written by Joe Lorenzo Alimagno
WRIFILM A51 Assignment Dr. Clodualdo del Mundo
INT. DINING ROOM - DAY A young BOY is sitting at the dining table, preparing a bowl of cereal. He is wearing a clean white t-shirt. He puts the bowl, the cereal box, the carton of milk, and his spoon in their proper places and takes a seat. He bumps into the table while sitting down and it shakes a little. It is around 3 in the afternoon and the warm sunlight hits his face from the window to his side. He eats as if a robot, barely staring at his food. A thick brown envelope with the words "U.S. via Air Mail" catches his eye on the other end of the table. He reaches for it with one hand, while the other still grips his spoon. He becomes curious at the thickness and the weight of the parcel. He puts down his spoon and decides to use both his hands to open it. His face is unchanging at the sight of what's inside. He replaces the package, gets up and goes to his MOTHER's bedroom.
INT. MOTHER'S BEDROOM - DAY The boy enters the room and stops a few inches from the doorway. He stares at his mother sleeping on the bed. A bottle of sleeping pills is on the bedside table, next to a dirty-white porcelain ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts a few still spewing smoke. A picture of him, his mother, and his father is in a weathered frame behind the tray. After a few seconds, he walks up to the bed. He takes the sleeping pills and places them inside the bedside table drawer. He takes the ashtray and throws its contents out the window onto the tin roof. The ash and smoke float for a few seconds before being blown by the wind.
He replaces the ashtray and leaves the room. EXT. ROOF OF HOUSE - SUNSET The boy climbs out through a small window at the top floor of their house. He struggles because the window is a little small. His face cringes slightly as he twists through - a surprising show of emotion amidst his robotic demeanor. He squints as the sun, though setting, shines brightly on his face. He moves to the portion of the roof shaded by an Acacia tree in their yard. He sits down on the tin ridges, sunlight now filtering through the leaves, sometimes covering his face, sometimes not, as the branches sway in the wind. He takes out his mobile phone and stars to type a text message. It reads: "Parents’ divorce papers came in the mail. Never knew they were so thick. Call me." He proceeds to type a frowning face emoticon, but decides against it in the end. He presses "Send" and a graphic appears on the phone screen: "Message Sending Failed" His eyes flutter and he becomes frustrated. He calls the OPERATOR. OPERATOR (ON PHONE) Your account balance is zero pesos. The boy is enraged and gets up. He stomps on the roof and swings his arm toward a low-lying branch. He painfully suppresses an angry scream. He thrashes some more until suddenly the roof he is standing on collapses in a loud crash. INT. MOTHER'S BEDROOM - SUNSET The boy's mother turns in her bed, still asleep.
INT. DINING ROOM - SUNSET The boy returns to the dining room, limping, face and body smeared in dirt. He is heavily scratched from the fall. He pulls back a chair and sits at the dining table. He bumps into the table while sitting down and it shakes a little. Milk from his unfinished bowl of cereal spills onto the table, on his now-dirty white shirt, and stars dripping on the floor. He is as if a robot again. He turns his head to face the window by the table, seeing the collapsed portion of their roof outside. The sunlight illuminates his entire face as it almost sets completely.