The interior of the house is the same as it was the night of the party. Empty cups, confetti, and balloon scraps litter the dusty wooden floor. Save for leftover party decorations, nothing adorns the walls or floors. The house has been abandoned for years; it makes sense that nothing is left behind from prior inhabitants, but the absence of any signs of life unnerves Leah nonetheless.
She steps into the living room and as if on cue, something bangs against the front door, startling her. She fumbles the flashlight in her hand, nearly dropping it before pointing it warily at the door.
"Fatin?" Leah calls out hesitantly. "Is that-"
"Let!" Bang. "Me!" Bang. "In!"
Leah winces. It's not like she intended on sneaking in again, but Jeanette definitely knows they're here now. She quickly moves towards the door, moreso to silence the sound than to let Fatin inside.
Leah unlocks the door and pulls it open. She's greeted with the sight of Fatin fuming, hands bunched into fists at her sides. Despite the clear anger and frustration she radiates, with her lips curled into a pout, it's the furthest she's ever been from intimidating.
"Finally!" Fatin shoves past her and moves inside. "Fucking door wouldn't open."
"What happened?" Leah raises a brow, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice, "The Jadmani touch not enough?"
Fatin stamps her foot and huffs, "It wouldn't budge!"
Leah glances at the open door, and notes the fresh scuff marks by the door handle. She shrugs. "Maybe Jeanette didn't want to deal with you."
"You're the one who's been stalking her from the get-go." Fatin takes hold of the camcorder hanging around her neck. "I'm just here for the views." She flips it open, and points the camera lens towards herself. "And before you get your granny panties in a twist, I'm not posting shit until Jeanette's exorcized."
Leah frowns. "You're not posting anything until we discuss it and I review it."
Fatin pretends to not hear her. She presses the record button, and smiles brightly at the camera. "Welcome to Ghost Hunters. I'm your host, Fatin Jadmani." Fatin pans the camera across the living room. "Today, we're investigating an abandoned house located at 220 San Carlos Avenue, long-rumored to be haunted according to local residents." The camera angles on Leah, scowling at the camera. "Here we have my questionably dressed partner-in-crime, Leah..." Fatin trails off, unsure.
Leah crosses her arms. "You don't know my last name?"
"Psh." Fatin waves a free hand. "Of course I know it."
"Then what is it?"
"It's... Milk."
"It's Rilke."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Huh." Fatin scrunches her eyebrows. "Weird."
Leah rolls her eyes. "Are you still rolling?"
"Obvi."
Leah looks into the camera, her gaze a thousand yard stare. "What Fatin won't tell you, unless you have the time to listen to her incessant monologuing, is that we've uncovered the cause behind the rumored haunting."
Fatin pans the camera back to herself, and raises a hand out of the frame to flip off Leah. "Jeanette Dao. Age 16. Cause of death, unknown. She died seven years ago and has stuck around since then, haunting this house and on occasion, our high school—East Bay Academy of the Arts."
Off camera, Leah says, "We don't know why she hasn't moved on, but I have a few theories."
"Straight off Wikihow," Fatin adds.
"They didn't need to know that."
"Hey, we're truth-tellers above all else."
Leah scoffs. "Yeah, right."
"I'm editing that out of the video." Fatin swivels the camera around the room, stopping at the staircase. "So far there's been no sign of Jeanette tonight, but we haven't checked upstairs yet. Leah, would you like to do the honors?"
Leah is already standing at the foot of the staircase. "I'd love to," she deadpans.
Fatin angles the camera lens back to herself, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "What Leah doesn't know is that I'm letting her act as my personal meat shield, just in case Jeanette tries to murder us."
"I heard that." Leah leans against the handrail. "And Jeanette's not going to kill us."
"You don't know that. She could be a complete basket- Wait." Fatin comes to a halt in the middle of the living room. She points her flashlight up at the ceiling. "Do you hear that?"
Leah strains her ears, and picks up on the faint sound of rhythmic thumping upstairs.
"Yeah." Leah chews on her lip, a nervous tick. "Not sure what it is, though."
Fatin hums thoughtfully, placing a finger to her lips. This is the most effort she's put into the investigation so far. Leah raises an eyebrow. Maybe working together won't be so bad afterall.
"Do ghosts fuck?"
Leah chokes on air.
Fatin, with her usual air of indifference, barely spares her a glance. "You good?"
"I can't-" Leah breaks into a coughing fit.
"Breathe?" Fatin nods. "Me either, smells like shit in here."
"-fucking stand you," Leah finishes, gasping for air.
"You're a terrible liar," Fatin replies easily. "Also, we're still rolling. Get it together girl, and make it quick."
---
After Leah recovers, they take the stairs to the second floor. As they walk, Fatin continues shooting footage of the house, and speaks at random, "It's cold as shit in here." She drags her feet up the last few steps and slumps against the wall once she reaches the top. "And the A/C isn't even on."
Leah's half-listening, distracted, scanning their surroundings for anything off-putting. "Hm?"
"God," Fatin says, tone layered with exasperation. "Keep up. I'm freezing my tits off here!"
"Oh." Leah blinks, taking a moment to grasp why Fatin's upset, and turns to face her. "It's just Jeanette."
"What." Fatin scoffs, "She can control the weather now?"
"Not exactly." Leah fidgets with her cardigan sleeve, resisting the urge to pace the length of the hallway. It's a habit borne out of a need to keep busy rather than one driven by nerves. She figures Fatin won't care enough for the details, so she keeps her explanation short and to the point. "Ghosts process energy differently than humans, and that allows them to physically manifest in the material world."
Leah turns away to keep searching for Jeanette, but Fatin surprises her by asking, "How?"
"There's no clear-cut answer-"
Fatin sighs, "Of course there isn't."
"-but it's theorized ghosts suck up the energy in the room to power themselves, which causes fluctuations in energy levels."
Fatin clicks her tongue. "Well, that explains why Jeanette's exhausting as hell to be around."
"Pot, meet kettle."
"Excuse you," Fatin steps away from the wall, snapping the camcorder shut. It sways limply around her neck, and Leah follows the motion for a moment before her eyes snap up to meet Fatin's. "I'm a fucking delight."
"It didn't even take five minutes for her to kick you out of the house."
"Us," Fatin corrects, "and yeah, she did. It's called being a buzzkill. Something you're well familiar with."
---
Despite the constant bickering, they still manage to remain somewhat on task. Leah, because she's growing antsy with no sign of Jeanette so far. Fatin, because she's out past curfew just to vlog whatever they might find. That still doesn't stop her from complaining.
"Fuck." Fatin shivers, following Leah down the hallway. "Fuck, I knew I should've worn my Givenchy." Leah comes to an abrupt stop and Fatin bumps into her. "What the hell? Watch where you're going."
Leah turns around to see Fatin standing closer than expected. "You're the one who bumped into me." And then she drops everything and takes off her cardigan, offering it to Fatin. "Here."
Fatin's brow crinkles. "As much as I appreciate the gesture, I'm not wearing that."
"It's not getting any warmer."
Fatin glances between the cardigan and Leah before taking it from her hands. She puts it on grudgingly, shuddering as she does. "Oh god. It even smells like old people."
Leah frowns. "It's vanilla."
"Old white people," Fatin amends.
Leah resists the urge to snap back, knowing it'll further incentivize Fatin. She sighs instead. "Do you ever stop?"
"Being this hilarious?" Fatin grins. "Nope."
"Talking," Leah corrects, picking her things up from the floor. "You're like a broken fucking record."
"It's all a part of the charm," Fatin replies airily.
Leah hates that she's right. Leah watches Fatin roll up the sleeves of the cardigan—they're a little long on her—and turns away. "Let's check the rooms. Call me if you find anything."
Leah enters the bathroom first, finding it empty save for two red solo cups left beside the sink. Next door, Leah hears Fatin recording more footage for her vlog. "And here we have... an empty bedroom. Oh, and a stuffed animal. Riveting stuff, folks."
Leah pokes her head inside the bedroom, curious to see any clues left behind by Jeanette or her family. All she finds is Fatin inspecting a faded Hello Kitty plushie. The bed is stripped of sheets; there isn't anything to be found on the blank, pink-painted walls.
"I never took Jeanette for a cat person." Fatin looks up at Leah. "Find anything?"
Leah shakes her head. "Let's try the other two rooms."
---
After double checking under beds, empty drawers and closet spaces, they find nothing upstairs save for moldy furniture and a couple of broken coat hangers. They reconvene in the hallway outside of Jeanette's bedroom, unsure how to proceed.
"Well this was a total bust." Fatin slumps against the wall, camcorder hanging uselessly around her neck. She's still holding the plushie. "And where the fuck is Jeanette?"
"I don't know." Leah fiddles with her wristwatch in lieu of pulling at her cardigan sleeves. "Maybe she went out for a walk."
"Well I don't have all the time in the world to wait for her to come back." Fatin squeezes the plushie in her arms, making no effort to hide her impatience. "What about that spirit thing?"
"You're gonna have to be more specific than that."
"The- you know." Fatin waves a hand.
"I don't."
"The call box."
Leah stares blankly at her.
"Phone a friend." Fatin considers, "Or ghost, I guess."
It takes a moment for it to click. "The spirit box?"
Fatin snaps her fingers. "Yes! That."
Leah presses her lips together, slightly put off at how she hadn't thought of it first. "I guess we could give it a shot." She places the duffel bag on the floor and unzips it. Her eyes flit over the tripod, EDI meter, phasm light and camera, and catch on the corner of the spirit box peeking out from under the USB power pack. She pulls it out of the bag, and examines it under her flashlight.
It's a rectangular black box with a built-in speaker. A digital display reads 94.9—a radio station—and depicts a fully charged battery. Underneath the dull orange glow of the numbers are several large, red buttons inscribed with different symbols. Leah's glad she's already read the user instructions.
Fatin isn't impressed. "It looks like a kid's toy."
"You're not wrong," Leah replies.
"How exactly does it work?" Fatin asks, not bothering to hide the skepticism in her voice.
Leah glances up at her. "It's supposed to make it easier for ghosts to speak to people by sweeping through radio frequencies, allowing them to manipulate the airwaves."
"Is it legit though?"
Leah shrugs. "From the background research I did, spirit boxes produce fragments of words broadcast across multiple frequencies. Since our brains are innately pattern-seeking, we'll understand the fragments of sound as whatever we want to hear."
Fatin nods. "So we'll know it works if it spits out the summary section of Jeanette's death certificate."
"Funny." Leah flips a switch, and starts flipping through channels, alternating between AM and FM frequencies. "Jeanette?" she says, "You there?"
The buzz of static fills the room; there's no response.
Fatin takes the spirit box from Leah's hands and speaks directly into it, "Pick up the fucking phone, bitch."
There's no response, only the buzz of more static.
"Saying stuff like that is exactly why she locked you out," Leah says, prying the spirit box from Fatin's clutches and tucking it under her arm. "You need to be nicer to her."
Fatin props a hand on her hip. "Adding 'pretty please' to the end of my sentences isn't going to do shit."
The box spits out static, startling them - this time, the white noise is accompanied with garbled syllables. Leah holds the speaker up to her ear, brows furrowed. "I heard 'mirror.'"
Fatin frowns. "I didn't hear anything."
Leah raises an eyebrow at her expectantly.
"I'm not saying it."
Leah shrugs. "Suit yourself." She returns her attention to the spirit box as it rolls over more frequencies, the buzz of static growing louder and louder. In between waves, incomprehensible words filter out of the speaker. Leah does her best to place them: "Parried? Float? Wretched?" Then she hears something else, more clearly than the previous jumbled syllables, "Eden?"
"What is this, Bible study?"
Leah glances at Fatin, only to see her eyes glued to her phone screen. Leah scoffs, spirit box momentarily forgotten. "Can you look away from your phone for more than ten seconds?"
"I'm working."
"I can see your screen. You're on Instagram."
"My followers aren't going to influence themselves."
The static peters out. Leah glances down at the spirit box to find that it's dead. "What the hell?"
"You forgot the 'pretty please' at the end."
"Quiet." Leah holds the spirit box up to her ear and shakes it around. No dice. "Damn it."
Fatin slides her phone into her pocket. "Can't you summon her or something?"
If only it was that easy. "I'm not a necromancer."
"Wikihow didn't have anything on ghost summoning?"
"It did but-"
"Great!" Fatin straightens up. "What do we do?"
"Well, using an ouija board is out because we don't have one."
"Why didn't you put it on the list?"
"Sorry," Leah raises her hands placatingly, "I didn't think we'd need one. And we can't do a seance either, since we didn't bring candles or food to attract spirits."
"Oh my god." Fatin pinches the bridge of her nose. "Anything else I could've easily bought that you haven't told me about?"
"A psychic would've been nice, but since we've had zero issues communicating with Jeanette so far-" Leah raises a finger to stop Fatin from interrupting, "-your words, not mine, I didn't think we needed one."
"Ugh," Fatin groans. "This blows."
Leah presses her lips together. She really doesn't want to consider this option, but there's nothing else she can think of that will work.
"There's one more thing that we can try."
Fatin throws out a hand. "And why didn't you open with that?"
Leah brushes past her and walks into the bathroom. "It's called mirror gazing." Fatin follows her inside, and stands off to the side while Leah wipes the dirty mirror with a towel hanging off the shower rack. "I didn't bring it up before because it's risky."
"How risky?" Fatin raises the camcorder tentatively. "Will I need to call an ambulance? Or worse, a priest?"
Leah hopes not. "I'm not sure. There wasn't a lot of info I could find, besides general stuff saying that mirror gazing is unpredictable—we could summon something that isn't Jeanette."
Which was the truth, but not all of it. Despite Fatin's incessant jabs insisting otherwise, Leah's deep dive into the paranormal corner of the internet was extremely thorough, going well beyond Wikihow, bordering on obsessive. Mirror gazing opens people up to the possibility of possession and inviting unwanted, potentially dangerous spirits into the space. So yeah, it's pretty risky. But there's no way she's telling Fatin all of that. The other girl would dip in a flash, leaving Leah alone to face whatever the fuck she summons.
And as much as she hates to admit it, she needs backup right now. Even if said backup comes in the form of an annoyingly pretty, wannabe influencer.
Fatin nods. "Let's hope Ms Wolfe doesn't rise up from the grave then." Leah shoots her a look. "What? The last thing I want to hear right now is a lecture about how 'utterly irresponsible' this is."
Leah shakes her head, and gazes into the mirror hanging above the bathroom sink. "Don't look directly at the mirror," she says, gripping the edges of the porcelain sink. "If I'm gone too long, I need you to pull me back."
"From where?"
"The mirror." Leah glances at Fatin, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "If this works, I'll be induced into a trance-like, meditative state."
"Disturbing." Fatin tucks the Hello Kitty plushie under her arm, points the camcorder at Leah, and hits record. "Any last words, or final requests?"
"No, but you could wish me luck," Leah replies dryly.
"I don't believe in luck."
"Then what do you believe in?"
Fatin peers over the camera. "Astrology." Leah waits for a punchline that never comes. Oh, Leah thinks. She's serious. And then, almost as an afterthought, Fatin adds, "5-hour energy drinks. I'm pretty sure they're the reason I'm alive right now."
"Disturbing," Leah echoes flatly. Fatin just smirks at her, and Leah turns back to face the mirror, releasing a shaky exhale.
Reading about spirit summoning on the Internet is one thing, actually pulling it off is something else entirely. Her brain conjures a convenient picture of Fatin, breathless with laughter, teasing her for losing a staring contest with a mirror. Heat floods her cheeks, and another scenario comes to mind, where she summons something terrifying and they have to make a run for it before either of them are possessed. Leah shakes her head, halting her catastrophizing train of thought, and focuses on the task ahead.
An incantation is needed to bring forth a spirit. Naturally, the first thing that comes to mind is a quote she read not too long ago: "Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace." She pauses to glance at Fatin, who's fallen uncharacteristically silent. Their eyes meet in the mirror, and Leah holds her gaze for a weighted moment before continuing. "But there is no beauty in this. I summon the spirit of Jeanette Dao to tell her story, and find peace in the afterlife."
Leah looks into the mirror, and thinks of Jeanette. Someone she once dismissed as eager to please, excitable, simple. But there was so much more to her than Leah could have ever expected. Under a bright smile was immeasurable grief; forever trapped in between planes, unhappy and unable to move on. The words tumbling out of her mouth in quick succession demonstrated not a lack of awareness, but a desire for connection. Tears shed in empty classrooms, hidden away from anyone that might see, not that it mattered anyway.
The more Leah thinks about Jeanette, the more of herself she sees reflected back in the glass in front of her-
-until she doesn't.
Beside her, Leah faintly registers Fatin gasp. The mirror in front of her clouds over; a fog sets in. Leah's vision blurs; she blinks once, twice, and then everything goes black.
----
INT. MS WOLFE'S CLASSROOM – NOON
SUPER: FRIDAY OCTOBER 13, 2012
MS WOLFE (54, British-American, long-time English teacher) types at her desk. Next to the keyboard is an open manila folder, containing STUDENT FILES. A yearbook photo of a TEENAGE GIRL is stapled to the file at the top of the stack.
The teacher looks up from her desktop monitor...
The GIRL FROM THE PHOTO is seated across the room. Pink headphones cover her ears. She bobs her head to the music as she works alone at a desk, scribbling into a notebook.
This is JEANETTE DAO (16, Vietnamese-American, quirky, happy-go-lucky, ready to take on the world). Our protagonist.
MS WOLFE
Jeanette, a word please?
Jeanette looks up, eyes wide in question. She takes off her headphones, leaving them hanging around her neck.
JEANETTE
Is something wrong?
Ms Wolfe shakes her head.
MS WOLFE
I'd like to talk to you about an upcoming leadership opportunity. Come, take a seat.
Ms Wolfe motions towards an empty chair and Jeanette obliges, moving across the room and sitting down in front of her. She brings her notebook and a pen, presumably to take notes.
MS WOLFE
You can put those away.
Jeanette hesitates, but puts her things to the side. Ms Wolfe hands her an informational pamphlet, EDEN written in striking bold at the top. Jeanette cocks her head.
JEANETTE
EDEN? I've never heard of them.
MS WOLFE
They're an up and coming female-centric research and advocacy group.
JEANETTE
Oh. Cool!
Ms Wolfe smiles.
MS WOLFE
Twenty-five participating high schools in the SFUSD have been asked to nominate one student to serve as part of their inaugural delegation, and I thought you'd be a perfect fit.
Jeanette ducks her head shyly.
MS WOLFE (CONT'D)
The retreat will be held at Angel Island State Park.
JEANETTE
Wow! I've never been.
ANGLE ON: EDEN pamphlet.
Jeanette flips the pamphlet open. On the inside cover, the date of the retreat is written: Sunday October 29th - Saturday November 4th.
MS WOLFE
I know it takes place during the school week, but I talked to your teachers during PD and they agreed to grant extensions for any work assigned to you that week.
JEANETTE
Thank you.
Jeanette fidgets with the pamphlet in her hands.
JEANETTE
Can I have some time to think it over?
Ms Wolfe frowns.
MS WOLFE
May I ask why?
JEANETTE
It's just... I wouldn't only be missing school. I help out with my family's restaurant on the weekends, and sometimes they need help during the weeknights too.
MS WOLFE
I see.
JEANETTE
I'm sorry.
MS WOLFE
No need to apologize, dear. Just let me know by Monday.
END COLD OPEN
ACT ONE
EXT. SAN FRANCISCO FERRY TERMINAL - DAY
SUPER: SUNDAY OCTOBER 29, 2012
Jeanette stands in line to board the Angel Island Ferry. She's wearing a red backpack and holding the handle of a Hello Kitty suitcase. Pink headphones hang around her neck.
JEANETTE TALKING HEAD
JEANETTE
I've never been on a boat before... I hope I don't get seasick.
ANGLE ON: B-roll of a YOUNG BOY hurling off the boat.
JEANETTE (CONT'D)
Oh geez.
EXT. SAN FRANCISCO FERRY TERMINAL - MOMENTS LATER
Jeanette reaches for her headphones, but before she can pull them over her ears, two TEENAGE GIRLS standing in front of Jeanette turn to face her.
ANGLE ON: MINDY (16, White, valley girl vibes, dressed in over-the-top designer clothes) smiles widely, straining her features.
MINDY
Hey girl! Do you mind taking a photo of us?
JEANETTE
Not at all!
Mindy hands Jeanette her phone.
ANGLE ON: Taylor (16, White, All-American WASP) fixing her hair.
TAYLOR
Make sure you get my good side.
Jeanette nods, and points the camera lens at them.
JEANETTE
Say cheese!
Instead of smiling, Mindy and Taylor pout influencer-style. Jeanette makes a pained expression behind the phone.
TAYLOR
Hm, I wasn't really feeling that pose. Let's try a couple more.
Mindy makes a disgruntled sound.
MINDY
But I have to pee!
TAYLOR
Hold it, Mindy!
Feeling left out, Jeanette tries to contribute to the conversation.
JEANETTE
Yeah, do it for the 'gram!
Mindy and Taylor give Jeanette a confused look. One that screams 'we weren't talking to you.' Jeanette flushes and looks away, clearly embarrassed.
EXT. ANGEL'S ISLAND CAMPGROUND - DAY
SUPER: SUNDAY OCTOBER 29, 2012
Jeanette is seated at a wooden table, alone. On her plate is a serving of grilled steak with a side of mashed potatoes and peas. It doesn't look appetizing at all.
JEANETTE
Bon appetit, I guess.
She stabs the steak with her fork but fails to pierce it. It's burnt and overcooked; the texture is rock-solid.
JEANETTE
(sighs) Vending machine Takis it is.
EXT. LOG CABIN - NIGHT
SUPER: SUNDAY OCTOBER 29, 2012
Jeanette steps out of a noisy cabin and closes the wooden door behind her. She pulls out her phone.
ANGLE ON: iMessage conversation with Lam and Qui Dao.
Jeanette types 'having a great time!' but it fails to send; her phone has zero bars.
JEANETTE
That's weird. I had signal earlier today.
She shrugs it off and pockets her phone, heading back inside.
INT. LOG CABIN - MOMENTS LATER
A group of teenage girls are playing UNO, sitting in a circle on the floor. One of them, NINA (17, Mexican-American, sociable, easy-going) looks up when Jeanette returns.
NINA
Hey, we're starting another game. Do you wanna join us?
Jeanette smiles. It's the first time we've seen her do so all day.
JEANETTE
Sure.
ACT TWO
INT. CLASSROOM – DAY
SUPER: WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 1, 2012
There is a LECTURER (mid 30s) standing in front of the room speaking and pointing at a projected powerpoint presentation. The title of the presentation is HORIZONTAL LEADERSHIP: LEVELING THE CORPORATE PLAYING FIELD. Jeanette is seated in the first row, scribbling into a pink notebook.
Behind her are Taylor and Mindy from the first day. Neither of them are taking notes, content just listening.
Jeanette raises her hand, and the lecturer calls on her.
JEANETTE
How can we implement horizontal leadership in more informal settings, like clubs?
LECTURER
Excellent question! What was your name?
Jeanette smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
JEANETTE
Jeanette.
The lecturer nods.
LECTURER
Thank you Jeanette.
She glances around the room.
LECTURER (CONT'D)
I hope you all can show some more engagement just like Jeanette here. Go-getters get it done!
The reaction from the rest of the girls in the classroom is mixed, but a few raise their hands regardless. As the lecturer calls on someone else, Taylor leans forward and whispers into Jeanette's ear. While she's speaking to Jeanette, her eyes are on the pink notebook.
TAYLOR
I love your bangs.
Jeanette turns around, plastering on a cheerful smile.
JEANETTE
Thanks! I like your... blank forehead.
Jeanette turns away before Taylor can reply.
EXT. THE DOCKS – DAY
SUPER: WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 1, 2012
A group of teenage girls are lined up next to a ramshackle storage unit by the beach. The door is open, and life vests among other things are practically spilling out.
Jeanette is standing in line next to Nina, who is zipping up her own life vest, smiling brightly. Jeanette looks at her warily.
JEANETTE
For someone who's never kayaked before, you don't seem nervous at all.
NINA
I'm a water baby.
JEANETTE
Ooh, like orbeez? (laughs) I had an entire aquarium set up under my desk in 5th grade.
NINA
More like I'm on the swim team back home.
JEANETTE
How do you like it?
Nina shrugs.
NINA
It's alright. Some of the girls are a bit too intense for me. I'm just there to have a good time.
JEANETTE
They're probably just worried about college apps. I know I am.
NINA
Aren't you a junior?
JEANETTE
Yeah, but it never hurts to be prepared! I'm in like a million clubs at school. I wanna explore all my options, like a buffet.
Nina snorts.
NINA
Sounds like a lot.
Jeanette's smile wavers.
JEANETTE
Sometimes it is.
A YOUNG MAN exits the storage unit. This is Alex (late 20s, White, matter-of-fact, curious). He's wearing red swim trunks, a pink EDEN shirt, black sunglasses hanging around his neck. He walks past the line of girls, towards the boat, but pauses by Jeanette and Nina. He directs his attention to Jeanette, the only girl not wearing a safety vest.
ALEX
Where's your vest?
JEANETTE
Oh, I'm not kayaking.
Nina frowns.
NINA
Why'd you walk down here then?
Jeanette looks at her.
JEANETTE
I just wanted to stretch my legs.
ALEX
If you're not going, you need to wait in your cabin. We can't have anyone walking around the docks unsupervised.
JEANETTE
Why not?
ALEX
It's against protocol.
JEANETTE
(sighs) Fine.
Alex walks away, and Jeanette turns to face Nina.
JEANETTE (CONT'D)
I guess I'll see you later then.
Nina places a hand on Jeanette's shoulder.
NINA
Are you sure you don't want to come?
Jeanette nods.
JEANETTE
Yeah. I wanted to spend some time journaling anyway.
Jeanette and Nina exchange goodbyes, and Jeanette walks away. As she reaches the end of the dock, her phone buzzes with a notification. Jeanette pulls her phone out of her pocket, and looks down.
ANGLE ON: Jeanette's phone: a lockscreen background of two pugs playing in the grass, and a new message notification from her mom that says,'Don't forget to post pictures on facebook! Your bá wants updates!'
JEANETTE (O.S.)
(laughs) She doesn't even know how to use Facebook.
Shot of Jeanette turning around and snapping a photo of the docks.
ANGLE ON: Jeanette's phone screen. She posts the photo on Facebook and captions it 'Living my best life!'
JEANETTE (O.S.)(CONT'D)
Perfect.
Shot of Jeanette pocketing her phone and taking off down a path that leads into the woods, back to her cabin.
ACT THREE
INT. LOG CABIN - NIGHT
SUPER: WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 1, 2012
There's a line of girls exiting the cabin, Nina at the tail end. She's ready to walk out before she pauses, seeming to remember something. She turns and sees Jeanette sitting in her bunk bed, leaning against the wall. She's chewing the end of a pencil, staring determinedly into her journal.
NINA
Are you coming down for dinner?
Jeanette doesn't look up.
JEANETTE
Yeah, just finishing this up.
NINA
I'd wait for you but I'm starving.
JEANETTE
Don't worry about it.
Nina nods.
NINA
Cool. I'll save a seat for you.
Nina leaves, closing the door behind her, and Jeanette is left alone in the cabin.
ANGLE ON: Digital clock placed on the nightstand adjacent to the bottom bunk where Jeanette's writing. It reads 7:20 PM. The numbers flip through, indicating the passage of time, to 7:45PM.
Shot of Jeanette rubbing her eyes, looking up, and jumping to her feet. She tosses her notebook to the side.
JEANETTE
Oh shoot, I'm late!
EXT. FOREST PATH - NIGHT
Jeanette walks down the trail leading to the main campground, where the dining hall is located. She shoves her hands into her pockets, visibly shivering.
JEANETTE
Should've listened when mom said to pack gloves...
She falls silent, and continues along the trail. Even though she's running late, she doesn't rush, taking time to observe her surroundings. She's admiring the constellations in the sky when the sound of breaking branches catches her attention. She shifts to the side of the trail, and a familiar voice drifts out of the dark.
ANGLE ON: Alex sitting on a fallen log, talking on the phone. He's facing away from the camera.
ALEX
Susan, how can you possibly be okay with this?
ANGLE ON: Jeanette crouching behind the tree. She places his voice immediately, eyes widening in recognition, and she ducks behind a tree to listen more closely.
ALEX
Gretchen's fucking insane if she thinks I'm putting mics in the girls' cabins.
Shot of Alex listening to Susan on the other end of the line, and pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
ALEX
It's a complete invasion of their privacy. I was okay with the cameras because they're in public locations, but this? It's overkill.
Shot of Jeanette looking concerned.
AS WE WERE
ALEX
I don't care. I'm not doing it.
(beat)
Fuck you.
Alex hangs up the phone and shoves it into his pocket, obviously disgruntled. He rises to his feet, cursing under his breath. He doesn't turn around, instead taking off further into the forest undergrowth.
ANGLE ON: Jeanette, expression grim. She lingers for only a moment before following him.
EXT. THE DOCKS – NIGHT
Alex paces down the boardwalk and makes for the small speed boat anchored in the water by the shack. He climbs down the dock ladder and rummages around the boat, searching for something.
While he's distracted, Jeanette runs down the dock and hides behind the shack, peering around the corner to watch Alex.
Alex tosses a black duffel bag onto the dock, and climbs up after them. He zips open the bag and pulls out a mic, testing to see if it works. When it does, he shakes his head, resigned.
ALEX
Gretchen better lawyer up.
(beat)
Shit, I should too.
Alex zips up the duffel bag and swings it over his shoulder. He's about to take off down the dock when Jeanette's phone starts ringing. "Raise Your Glass" by PINK sounds out at full volume, breaking the silence of the night.
Shot of Jeanette cursing and fumbling for her phone.
ALEX (O.S.)
Is someone there?
Shot of Jeanette panicking and dropping her phone in the water.
Alex appears around the corner of the shack, where he finds Jeanette pressed against the wall, trying to make herself as small as she can.
ALEX
(sighs) How much did you hear?
JEANETTE
Nothing! I heard nothing at all.
ALEX
So, everything.
Alex walks towards her and Jeanette scrambles away.
JEANETTE
Stay away from me!
Alex comes to a stop, and slowly raises his hands.
ALEX
Look, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.
JEANETTE
I don't trust you.
Her gaze flicks to the side before returning to Alex. She shuffles her feet, her intent to flee painstakingly obvious.
ALEX
Please don't run.
Jeanette turns and bolts. Alex lets out a strangled curse before taking off after her. Jeanette may have a bit of a head start, but Alex is quick to catch up to her. He grabs her arm and Jeanette shrieks, struggling against his firm grip.
JEANETTE
Let go of me!
Alex wrestles her hands behind her back and covers her mouth with a hand. Jeanette wastes no time in biting him.
ALEX
Ow!
He drops his hand and Jeanette takes the opportunity to twist around, and stomp on his foot. Alex hisses in pain as Jeanette takes off running again.
ALEX (CONT'D)
Shit.
He races after her, but can't quickly close the distance between them like he did last time. Jeanette is nearing the end of the dock when she turns her head.
JEANETTE
I'm not letting you get away with this, asshole!
She faces forward just in time to crash into SUSAN (30s, Taiwanese-American, determined, cool demeanor)
Jeanette falls to the ground but Susan manages to remain upright. She looks down at Jeanette, groaning in pain, and then directs a stern glare at Alex.
She says nothing until Alex finally catches up, panting as he comes to a stop next to Jeanette.
SUSAN
You had one job.
ALEX
I didn't know I was being followed! She's supposed to be at dinner with the others.
SUSAN
(sighs) If Gretchen were here, she'd lecture you on your 'utter incompetency.'
ALEX
I'm aware.
Alex looks down at Jeanette, and Susan follows his gaze.
ALEX (CONT'D)
What are we gonna do with her?
Jeanette clutches her head, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She scowls at both of them, eyes watering with unshed tears.
ANGLE ON: Susan, expression set.
SUSAN
Let's take her back to HQ.
JEANETTE
(groans) Over my dead body!
SUSAN
(amused) Dramatic, isn't she?
Alex doesn't reply. He extends a hand towards Jeanette, only for her to slap it away.
ALEX
(sighs) Look, I can't just let you go. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.
Jeanette raises her chin defiantly.
JEANETTE
I'm not going to make this easy for either of you.
Jeanette proceeds to cross her arms over her chest and roll a few feet away, towards the edge of the dock. Dumbstruck, Susan and Alex can only watch Jeanette heave herself over the edge and drop into the water like a stone.
They exchange a look.
SUSAN
What are you waiting for? Go after her!
Shot of Alex kicking off his shoes and diving into the water.
INT. EDEN HQ - NIGHT
ANGLE ON: A wall of TV screens showing broadcast footage around the island.
Shot of Gretchen Klein (40s, White, perpetual stick up her ass, former Women's March attendee) pacing back and forth in front of the monitors, clearly frustrated.
GRETCHEN
Fuck. Fuck! It's still not enough data.
She rakes her fingernails against her neck, where a red rash is clearly visible.
Thom (late 20s, White, squirrely looking, bootlicker) reaches as if to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but holds back. He folds his hands behind him, posture ramrod straight.
THOM
The subjects are doing well. In providing for their basic needs, we've created an environment where they're free to make connections. It won't be long until they're strengthening those bonds, emotionally supporting each other and-
GRETCHEN
Did I ask to have my experiment parroted back at me?
THOM
No ma'am.
GRETCHEN
(scoffs) Don't get ahead of yourself, Thomas.
Gretchen stops pacing and abruptly turns around, brow arched in question.
GRETCHEN (CONT'D)
Where's the coffee I needed ten minutes ago?
Thom helplessly shrugs.
THOM
The machine broke.
GRETCHEN
Just my fucking luck.
(beat)
Call Alex. Get him to fix it.
Thom nods just as AUDREY (40s, Black, radiates 'don't fuck with me energy,' loyal to a fault) enters the room.
AUDREY
Susan and Alex just called in a Code X.
Gretchen steps towards Audrey.
GRETCHEN
Who is it?
AUDREY
Subject #9.
THOM
Are we sure she's-
Gretchen raises a hand to silence him. Thom's mouth opens and closes, gaping like a fish.
GRETCHEN
Current status?
AUDREY
DOA.
Gretchen nods once. She doesn't say anything for an extended moment. Then-
GRETCHEN
Call Leonard. We need his team to handle this.
AUDREY
Understood.
Audrey exits the room swiftly. Thom looks between her departing figure and Gretchen, utterly confused.
THOM
We're not stopping the experiment?
Gretchen's gaze falls back on the computer monitors. She approaches one showing a group of girls eating dinner. Her eyes are hungry with something that can't be placed, searching for something out of reach.
GRETCHEN
(tuts) Don't you see, Thom?
She turns around, looking... excited?
GRETCHEN (CONT'D)
It's only just begun.
EPILOGUE
INT. SUNSET MEMORIAL - DAY
SUPER: THURSDAY NOVEMBER 9, 2012
A closed casket is placed at the front of the room. People float aimlessly from one group to another, exchanging condolences.
Jeanette's parents, LAM DAO and QUI DAO, sit together in the front row, heads bowed in grief. Those attending the wake give them a wide berth.
ANGLE ON: A group of wake attendees representing EBAA: HECTOR BAEZ (16, Paraguayan-American, student), MS MISTRY (mid 20s, Indian-American, teacher), and MR GREEN (mid 30s, White, teacher).
HECTOR
Do you know what happened?
MS MISTRY
(shakes head) Everyone's been real hush-hush about it.
MR GREEN
(sighs) Poor thing drowned. She was found in the morning at the docks by the retreat staff.
HECTOR
(frowns) Why was she out there in the middle of the night?
MR GREEN
I guess we'll never know.
ANGLE ON: Ms Wolfe, standing in the far corner of the room, sniffling and dabbing her eyes with tissue paper. She pulls herself together enough to make her way over to the casket. She glances at Jeanette's parents as she passes by them.
Lam's gaze is fixed somewhere far off, distant and unseeing. Qui's head is resting on his shoulder, her expression somber.
Ms Wolfe looks away, steeling herself for the task ahead. She takes slow, steady steps towards the casket until she's right in front of it. It takes her a moment to look down, and finally face her former student.
ANGLE ON: A framed picture of Jeanette, beaming into the camera.
Ms Wolfe's voice breaks as she speaks.
MS WOLFE
Oh, sweet girl.
Ms Wolfe reaches out as if to touch the picture but falters. Instead she buries her face into her hands, letting out a choked sob.
JEANETTE (O.S.)
I'm sorry.
Ms Wolfe starts and looks up to see the SPIRIT OF JEANETTE standing behind the casket. Jeanette's features are ashen, her hair and clothes dripping with water. Ms Wolfe's mouth falls open at the sight, her eyes dart rapidly between the body in the casket and the ghost in front of her.
MS WOLFE
(faintly) Jeanette?
Jeanette looks past her, directly into the camera.
JEANETTE
I never wanted you to see me this way.
FADE TO BLACK.
-----
Leah resurfaces gasping for air, completely in the dark. The first thing she registers is her position — legs splayed out in front of her, back pressed against something warm and solid. Despite the comfort the steady presence brings, she flounders at not being able to see anything. It takes her a few moments to realize it's just Fatin's hands covering her eyes.
"Leah, can you hear me?"
Fatin's breath brushes the shell of her ear, and Leah roughly clears her throat before answering, "Um, yeah." She brings her trembling hands up to cover Fatin's, and eases them down to her lap. She doesn't make any move to stand up, and Fatin doesn't either.
They sit together in silence; Leah's still winding down from her mirror gazing session. And for the first time ever, Fatin doesn't say anything at all. She just sits there, arms encircling Leah, her proximity at once familiar and grounding. Which is weird because it should feel awkward.
(The last time Leah held hands with anyone was 10th grade P.E., when she had to untangle herself from a human knot and an overly enthusiastic Jenny Powell nearly broke her fingers.)
But Fatin's presence isn't overbearing. It's the furthest thing from uncomfortable, actually. They hardly know each other, but Leah, inexplicably, feels safe. And given the intensity of what she just experienced, it's exactly what she needs. She counts her breaths until her heartbeat settles, resting against Fatin for support.
Once she collects herself, she reluctantly lets go of Fatin's hands. She scoots forward, turns around, and sits against the adjacent wall to put some space between them. Because as much as she wouldn't mind sitting there forever, there are more pressing matters at hand. She forces herself to meet Fatin's eyes and ask, "How long was I out?"
Leah half-expects a joke, because when is Fatin ever serious? But Fatin just stares at her, something searching in her gaze. And if Leah wasn't so used to Fatin's perpetual air of indifference, she might think it's worry.
Leah shifts, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "What?"
Fatin exhales, slumping against the wall. "Thirty minutes." Fatin looks away, and Leah notices the Hello Kitty plushie discarded on the floor a few feet away. "I had a great time, in case you were wondering. It wasn't creepy at all to witness your ghost-induced dissociation first-hand."
Leah's nerves ease, somewhat. If Fatin's still cracking jokes, it couldn't have been that bad from the outside. She rubs the back of her neck, goosebumps prickling as moments from the mirror vision loop in her head.
"Felt like a lifetime," Leah admits, because it did. There's a weight to carrying Jeanette's memories, and it presses down on her now.
Fatin's eyes lock onto hers. Her gaze is no longer searching, soft with what Leah now recognizes as genuine concern. "What did you see?"
Leah falters. It had been imprudent of her to think that the answers she'd been looking for would bring respite when they'd only unearthed painful memories and left unresolved grief in its wake. Her heart aches as she pushes past the lump in her throat and admits, "Everything."