Script

Scene 1. INT. DAY TIME. POLICE DEPARTMENT QUESTIONING ROOM (PRESENT)

A man sits alone at a desk in an empty room, waiting to be questioned. The man is obviously on edge - he twitches and taps the desk one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four. His breaths shallow and nervous. His name is Marvin Shermon.

The room is dimly lit, causing shadows on his emotionless face, hiding him somewhat. He looks up, the dull light spreads across his normal, plain features as he parts his lips ready to speak and looks up.

Marvin: They'll wanna know how it happened

Scene 2. int. morning. Marvin's apartment (PAST)

Marvin lays in bed, calm and tranquil, just about to leave his rest and begin his day. Begin his routine. His eyes slowly flutter open. He lays there still, takes a moment to remember the order of his morning before reaching quickly and grabbing his glasses.

He gets up and begins to make the bed. He pulls each corner tightly one, two, three, four times. Order. He smooths the duvet with his palm, stroking the cover four times once more, making sure everything is perfect.

He walks to the wardrobe and touches the fake wood paneling four times before carefully taking out his work uniform and neatly placing it on the bed. He showers. Brushes teeth.

As he puts his toothbrush into its right place a shrill cry for attention sounds from the phone. Marvin's face, though void of emotion before comes alive in panic and annoyance, his eyes widen, his brow furrows, he taps the sink four times and takes an irritated breath. His routine has been broken.

He makes his way to the sound of the noise and picks up the phone.

Marvin: Hello?

The intruder is his mother. A violent phone conversation breaks out.

Marvin: Yeah, yeah, I know mom. I know, I got it.

He listens to the response, on edge, fidgeting and twitching.

Marvin: So what? I'm a little behind on the rent. And you don't think I know that?

His eyes flicker to the clock, anxious that this conversation will rip is routine further apart.

Marvin: I know I can't move back in with you guys. Don't worry.

He starts to nervously pace, tapping his leg in fours as he does so.

Marvin: Stop harassing me, mom. I got this. I gotta plan. (He pauses to listen) Look, You're gonna make me late for work.

His fists clench as the conversation continues. He's jittery. His voice is tense as he struggles to spit out his words.

Marvin: Yeah, mom, I really gotta go now you're, you're messing, you're, you're messing things up!

He attempts to listen to her, looks at the clock and panics. He needs to finish his routine on time. He needs to cut her off.

Marvin: Ugh, you know what. I gotta go. Talk to you later. Bye.

He slams down the phone, looks at the clock once more and smashes his fist against the wall. He grinds his teeth back and fourth, back and fourth and pauses a moment to take a calming breath before continuing his routine.

Marvin gets dressed and then makes himself breakfast - Cheerios, like normal. He eats them four hoops at a time, eyes constantly flicking to the clock. He finishes and quickly puts his bowl in the sink to be washed when he gets home.

He goes to his collection of war memorabilia, grabs a knife and leaves. His fingers twitch and grip around the handle. Tightening and untightening, one, two, three, four.