In the summer of 2006, director JW Arnold and I filmed this screenplay, with me in the role of Simon and Kendra Andrews in the role of Marsha. After sitting on the footage for nearly a year, we finally finished the film, but at about fifteen minutes it exceeds YouTube's length limit, so there's no easy way to share it online. We've been toying with the idea of re-editing it to get it under ten minutes. Meanwhile, you can take a look at our music video for the song The ice age, which uses footage from the short film but compresses the story into less than five minutes.

SIMON is laying flowers in front of a grave. He's a young guy, maybe thirty, in sloppy clothes.

He stands up. Behind him stands MARSHA, about the same age, wearing a plain white dress.

Simon stands in front of the grave for a few seconds. Then he glances at his watch. He turns to leave, passing close by Marsha. She looks for an extra moment at the grave, then turns and falls in step behind him.

INT. APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - NIGHTTIME.

Simon is reclining on the sofa, remote control in hand, flipping idly through the TV channels. Marsha is sitting in a chair nearby, watching him.

MARSHA (v/o):
I've been haunting Simon for almost six months now. I hate it.
At first I thought it would be alright. If I couldn't get into heaven, then at least I could spend my days with the man I love.

FLASHBACK - INT. APARTMENT - BEDROOM - DAYTIME

Light is streaming in through the blinds. Simon is fully dressed, curled up in bed, his eyes wide open. Marsha is sitting on the edge of the bed beside him.

MARSHA (v/o):
The first few weeks were heartbreaking. He never went out. Most days he barely got out of bed. I wanted to tell him, Simon, it's okay. I'm still with you. I tried to touch him, but my hand just passed through his shoulder.

Marsha lies down beside him.

MARSHA (v/o):
So I lay down beside him and imagined that he could feel the warmth of my body. Or my spirit, or whatever.

FLASHBACK - INT. CAR - NIGHTTIME

Simon is driving, Marsha is sitting next to him.

MARSHA (v/o):
Then sometime in the third week, he took me for a drive.

They pull into a parking lot. Neon light is reflecting off the windshield. Simon stops the car and steps out. Marsha is looking up through the windshield, wearing a look of slight distaste.

FLASHBACK - INT. PORNO STORE - NIGHTTIME

We scan along a rack full of porn tapes. Now we see Simon carefully examining the back cover of one of the tapes. Marsha is standing beside him, a look of pity on her face.

MARSHA (v/o):
I couldn't blame him. He was lonely, that was all.

FLASHBACK - INT. APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - NIGHTTIME

Simon slips a tape into the VCR and settles down on the sofa, with a box of tissue and a bottle of hand lotion conveniently near. Marsha is sitting in her chair.

MARSHA (v/o):
The problem with haunting someone is, there's nowhere to go.

Simon unbuckles his pants. We pan over to Marsha, who looks away from Simon to the television set, then fixes her gaze on a spot on the coffee table.

FLASHBACK - INT. APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - DAYTIME

MARSHA (v/o):
He didn't leave the apartment the next day. But at least he was out of bed.

Simon is seated on the sofa, finishing his dinner - Kraft Dinner with wieners, eaten out of the pot. The tissues and hand lotion are still on the coffee table. Marsha is in her chair as usual.

Simon puts the pot aside, goes to the stack of tapes next to the VCR, selects one, and slides it in. As he returns to the sofa, his pants are already undone. Marsha leans back in her chair and watches the television, bored.

MARSHA (v/o):
I got to know his favourite scenes, his favourite actresses. I learned more about his...inclinations in one day than I'd learned in three years of living together.

FLASHBACK - INT. APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - DAYTIME - A LITTLE LATER

We're still watching Marsha watch porn. She's speaking along with the dialogue from the movie:

MALE ACTOR / MARSHA:
What are you doing here, little girl?

FEMALE ACTOR / MARSHA:
Teacher sent me here because I was naughty.

MALE ACTOR / MARSHA:
Are you a naughty little girl?

FEMALE ACTOR / MARSHA:
I'm so naughty I deserve to be spanked.

The sound of spanking.

FLASHBACK - INT. OFFICE - DAYTIME

Simon is seated at a computer, reading his email. Marsha is standing behind him.

MARSHA (v/o):
I tried not to hold it against him. It seemed to make him feel better. A couple days later he even went back to work.

RANDY, a co-worker, pops his head into Simon's cubicle.

RANDY:
Hey, Simon. It's good to have you back.

SIMON:
Thanks, Randy.

RANDY:
Stuck in email jail, huh?

SIMON:
Yup.

RANDY:
Guess it kind of builds up.

SIMON:
Yup.

RANDY:
Well, welcome back.

SIMON:
Thanks, Randy.

RANDY:
Catch you later.

SIMON:
Yup.

Randy goes on his way, and Simon returns to reading his email.

FLASHBACK - INT. APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - NIGHTTIME

Simon is on the sofa, eating a pizza pop and playing a video game. Marsha is slumped in her chair.

MARSHA (v/o):
Simon got back into his routine. Meanwhile I was growing disenchanted.

FLASHBACK - INT. APARTMENT - BATHROOM - NIGHTTIME

Simon is sitting on the toilet, flipping through a copy of Maxim. Marsha is standing in the bathtub, obstinately facing the wall.

FLASHBACK - INT. CAR - DAYTIME

Simon is driving, Marsha is seated beside him. As he drives he absent-mindedly picks his nose. Marsha shakes her head sadly.

MARSHA:
Oh, Simon.

MARSHA (v/o):
Finally I couldn't take it any more.

FLASHBACK - INT. WHITE ROOM - DAYTIME

A featureless white room with a white door on either end. A man dressed in white is standing by one of the doors. Marsha is standing before him.

MAN IN WHITE:
I'm sorry, Marsha, but we went over this all before. You're a sinner. You didn't attend church. You neglected to keep the Sabbath holy. You took His name in vain. You wore lewd and revealing clothing. You listened to atheistic jazz music. You didn't give to charity. You let the machine pick up when you knew it was your mother calling. And let's not even get into the considerable amount of fornication. There's not even a question on this one. We have standards. Those standards are spelled out quite explicitly. You failed to meet them. I think, all things considered, we were very generous. You could've gone to the other place.

MARSHA:
By the other place, you mean...

She gestures behind her. There is a rickety, unpainted wooden trapdoor in the centre of the floor.

MAN IN WHITE:
Yes.

MARSHA:
It's quite a bit worse than where I am now?

MAN IN WHITE:
Oh, yes.

MARSHA:
Demons with pitchforks and all that?

MAN IN WHITE:
Yes, among other things.

MARSHA:
Lake of fire?

MAN IN WHITE:
I can't begin to express how horrible it is.

MARSHA:
Painful.

MAN IN WHITE:
Exceptionally painful. Flayings and disembowelments and such.

A pause.

MARSHA: (reluctantly)
Yes, I suppose that would be worse.

MAN IN WHITE:
You ought to consider yourself lucky.

MARSHA:
Look, is there any chance of being reassigned? To someone else?

MAN IN WHITE:
Someone to whom you don't feel such a strong emotional attachment?

MARSHA:
Well, yes. Or just someone who gets out a bit more.

MAN IN WHITE:
I'm sorry, Marsha.

She sighs, turns around, and shuffles to the door at the other end of the room.

FLASHBACK - INT. APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - NIGHTTIME

Simon is on the sofa, playing a video game.

MARSHA (v/o):
That's when I started to take the whole haunting thing seriously. But it's not as easy as you'd think.

A rattling sound. We pull back to reveal Marsha standing right beside Simon, rattling a four-foot length of heavy chain. He continues to play his video game.

FLASHBACK - INT. APARTMENT - BEDROOM - NIGHTTIME

Simon is sleeping. Marsha is leaning over him. She blows in his ear. No response.

She blows in his ear again. He twiches and flicks at his ear, but goes on sleeping.

Marsha sits down on the bed beside him, crosses her arms, and stares at the wall.

FADE OUT

FADE IN ON
INT. CAR - EVENING

Simon is driving, Marsha is staring out the window, her eyes blank.

INT. BAR - EVENING

Marsha follows Simon as he makes his way into the bar and stops at a table occupied by a girl around his own age. This is KRISTI.

SIMON:
Hey.

KRISTI:
Hey!

She stands up and goes to hug him, but he's already taken the seat opposite her. He stands up and they awkwardly hug. Then they sit down. Marsha slides into an empty chair by Simon.

KRISTI:
Well. Long time no see.

SIMON:
Yeah, I know. I've been kind of out of it.

KRISTI:
I understand.

SIMON:
Just kind of working and taking it easy at night.

KRISTI:
You're doing alright?

SIMON:
I guess. I don't know what to compare it to.

KRISTI:
Yeah. (a pause) I understand.

The waitress comes to take Simon's order.

MARSHA (v/o):
Kristi was my best friend going back to high school. I didn't see much of her in the year before my accident.

The waitress leaves, and Simon and Kristi look at each other across the table.

SIMON:
So how's Brad?

KRISTI:
He's good. He got hired on with a consulting firm in Edmonton.

SIMON:
Oh?

KRISTI:
We broke up a couple months ago.

SIMON:
Oh.

KRISTI:
It's alright. We both knew it wasn't going anywhere.

SIMON:
You were together a long time.

KRISTI:
Yeah, a year and a half. It seems like kind of a waste. (a pause) Marsha never got along with him.

SIMON:
Yeah, she told me.

KRISTI:
She called him a thug once. To his face.

SIMON:
Yeah.

KRISTI:
She could be kind of judgemental sometimes.

SIMON:
No kidding.

KRISTI:
A little bossy.

SIMON:
Yup. (a pause) I went to her grave the other day. (a pause) But I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Am I supposed to get down on my knees and, like, talk to her? It would just make me feel like a fraud. I left some flowers. I spent eighteen dollars on these flowers and it's like, what am I wasting this money for? It doesn't make any difference to her. I'm just doing it out of a sense of obligation. I mean, it's not like if I didn't leave flowers that would mean I loved her any less.

KRISTI:
No.

SIMON:
Then I thought, well, maybe her mom or her sister will drop by the grave and the flowers will make them feel better. So I guess maybe it was worthwhile.

A pause.

KRISTI:
I know you're not a very...spiritual person, but I think it does make a difference. I mean, it's corny, but I really believe that, you know, the dead...the people we loved...are still with us, sort of. Watching over us.

SIMON:
Yeah.

KRISTI:
Like in the movies.

SIMON:
Yeah.

A pause.

KRISTI:
I know you think it's stupid. I find it comforting to believe that.

A pause.

SIMON:
It's not stupid. I guess it would be comforting.

He glances to his right, precisely where Marsha is sitting. Marsha and Simon are looking directly into each other's eyes.

After a second, Simon slowly reaches out his hand, as if to caress her cheek. Shivering, Marsha watches his hand approach her face.

CUT TO a different angle. Marsha is no longer there. Simon delicately plucks something invisible out of the air where Marsha's face would be, and turns back to Kristi. He holds out his hand.

A tiny spider is crawling on his finger.

SIMON:
Spider.

The waitress arrives with Simon's beer. Simon digs in his pocket for his wallet. Marsha is visible again, watching him. She reaches out gently to touch his shoulder.

Before her hand reaches his shoulder, we CUT TO:

INT. APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The sound of video game bleeps and blops. We slowly pan across the apartment from the pile of porn videos, to the TV screen where digital street punks are kung fu fighting, to the unwashed dishes piling up in the kitchen, to the hand lotion and tissue on the coffee table, and finally to Simon on the sofa, with the video game controller in his hand.

Marsha is sitting right next to him on the sofa, watching the screen. As Simon reflexively jerks from side to side, mirroring the actions of his avatar onscreen, she reflexively jerks with him.

THE END.