Hello, I’m only 11 so cut me some slack. This is just the beginning but please tell me what you think of my story so far. Thank you!
Hopsital
“They’ll be shooting mostly in Naples, Ella. And the crew will never leave Florida. So you’ll just be traveling around the state. No big deal. You will be staying with your grandparents in Naples, lucky you; they live in the main shooting spot. Your mom will visit every once in a while, but she has to take care of your brother. He’ll want to spend the rest of his life with his family, so your mom will be there most of the time.” Wendy, my perfect, supportive, helpful agent, explained to me my next movie location.
“Alright, thanks, Wendy. You’re the best. I got to go. My Mom is yelling at me to start studying my lines, I’ll see you tonight at the table reading. Bye.”
Before Wendy got a chance to say bye back, I hung up. My Mom was really frustrated with me for being late to see my brother in the hospital. My pancreatic cancerous brother, who had only months to live. I visited him as much as I could, but being around my busy Hollywood schedule was impossibly hard. I loved him so much, and couldn’t stand the fact that he was going to die soon. I sighed and focused on breathing.
“What did Wendy want?” My Mom ordered.
“She told me the new location schedule for Stalker.” Stalker was my new movie.
“Ugh! Ella, why can’t you take a break from acting for just a couple of months and spend your free time with your brother!” Her voice broke on the last word when the waterworks started up, again.
“It’s my job, Mom! It’s Hollywood! I can’t just bail out on work for a couple of months and get fired, that’ll ruin my career for sure! You know that!”
“Sometimes it seems like Hollywood would be better off without you,” she paused, “although, you are Hollywood’s loved one.” She pointed to the room down the hall where I kept all off my awards.
“Mom, what Hollywood side are you taking? The against side? Or the non-against side? Hmm?” I started growing just as mad as she was.
She took a deep breath. “Doesn’t matter anymore, Ella. Grab your script, your coming with me to the hospital. At least show some final support for your brother.”
I couldn’t argue with that. My Mom new how much I loved my twenty-year-old older brother, but I never did go to the hospital. But you have to give me some credit for not wanting to go. I mean, who wants to sit in a blinding white room with the smell of blood and rubber gloves?
I ran upstairs and into my dark purple painted room where I spent most of my time in. I searched my desk for the thick packet of highlighted sentences. After about a minute, I finally found it. This was my home script; I usually use the one in my trailer, twenty-five minutes away from here. I stared at it for a moment, the front page. The part where my longest paragraph is. The introduction to Stalker.
I never realized that in such a small town there would be insane happenings. I guess I can say that I was wrong, way off, by a mile. My friend and I soon began to see that there wasn’t paranoia going around in the air, it was the creepy eyes in the air following our every move. My Dad and his friends searched the town for this mysterious creeper, and found nothing. That was extremely unusual for my Dad, the best cop in the small town. And during the night I feel like “he” was watching me. And during school I feel like “he” is poisoning my food in my lunch box in my backpack. Which is outside in the hallway, not with me. That’s why I haven’t been eating or sleeping. I’ve been
dizzy. . .
“Ella!” My Mom screamed my name and made me jump. I’ve been in such thought about the movie – in La La Land. I raced downstairs. “What was keeping you so long?!”
“I, er, nothing . . . ,” I whispered.
My Mom gave me a furious look, “Okay, let’s go.”
I opened the garage door and walked out to my Mom’s black BMW M6 convertible. I opened the passenger seat door and stared at the back gate that leads to the most luxurious backyard. It held a giant pool, trampoline, outdoor kitchen, huge patio, volleyball, and basketball. My personal favorite was the trampoline. I go on it most of the time to practice my crazy moves for movies. And for Stalked, I’ll be on there a lot.
‘Won’t be long till you’re driving,” My Mom said. She was excited about that; she doesn’t like having to drive people around to their needs. Ahem, Universal Studios, Warner Bros.
“Hmmh.” I nodded, still staring at the gate.
“Grandpa will be teaching you in his truck while you’re in Florida.”
“Cool.” I watched a leaf fall off of our apple tree.
“Ella, do you have something against Grandpa teaching you?”
“No, Mom. It’s just . . . I realized something.”
“What?”
“Dad died from pancreatic cancer, Brett is going to die of pancreatic cancer. Am I next?”