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The earth crunched beneath my boots and dead leaves crumbled in my tread. I stuck to the shadows of the dense, forest; he couldn’t find me or I’d be gone. A twig snapped to the right and I stopped, turning to the noise.
“Kate!” I said under my breath, still cautious of maintaining my cover. Her finger quickly covered her mouth, telling me to be quiet. Her black hair was full of mud and foliage, and her body was bruised and bloody. We got separated when he stormed our camp. I’d thought I was the only one left, I heard the screams of my fellow campers as I bolted in fear. We ventured on slowly in the undergrowth, staying camouflaged when I heard a slight thump. I turned to her; she had accidentally kicked a tree. She stared deep into my eyes with terror.
“Run” she whispered. We took flight, my already aching legs pounded into the forest floor. Vines caught my clothes and tore my skin. Lashes appeared over my body. My face scratched by the whipping branches. I threw one leg in front of the other. Dashing. I stumbled over rocks and tripped on fallen trees. Kate rocketed ahead. I fell behind in my struggle with the flora. My fatigue won out as I stumbled over a large stone. Winded, I lay on the soggy ground gasping for air. Following the most blood-curdling screech I’d ever heard, I heard my name.
“Scott! Scott, quick!” Forgetting my fatigue, I leaped up and chased the shouts.
“He’s dead! He’s dead Scott… He got him!” She fell to her knees and sobbed into the ground. Fearing what I’d see, I looked up slowly. Hung by his feet Cal swang in the breeze, naked, his head clung to his neck by a mere thread of flesh. Blood snaked down his face and pooled below him. Fear enveloped my mind and I dropped to the ground.
“Cut!” the Director roared to the congregation of filming staff. Men ran to assist David from his upside down position and remove the latex wounds and motion capture equipment from his head. A group of stylists ran to clean the prop mud and scars from my body and Sasha was helped to her feet by Cam, who sat out of this scene.
“Stop, stop, stop! What the fuck are you people doing? That was the shittiest acting I’ve ever seen!” The Director screamed at us, his face painted with fury.
“Dan! Daniel! They did brilliantly, get a grip of yourself.” Daisy reassured him in a soft voice. If it weren’t for Daisy producing, that movie would never have reached cinemas if all went to plan. Her eccentric clothing, flower-adorned hair and benevolent demeanour were the only things keeping Daniel in check and moving us to the next take. If it were up to him, we’d still be filming scene one.
“Whatever you say, but it’s on your fucking head!” He was disappointed that the budget wouldn’t allow for A-grade actors, and then nothing was good enough for him; apparently my character, Scott Mason, was for Johnny Depp and Johnny Depp alone. Despite Daniel Collins’ opinion, I was proud of my performance. My legs ached for real, so I hobbled back to my trailer along the path carved into the greenery. The budget also wouldn’t allow for a green screen forest, so they had flown us from California to the middle of nowhere; somewhere in Brazil I was told. I may as well have been Scott Mason running through those forsaken woods; the number of leeches and snakes I’d encountered was way above my pay grade. I complained, but the path to my trailer was a sight to behold. I plodded uncomfortably along the dirt path, bordered by tall trees, at their base an abundance of different flowers. There was this little green one I particularly admired out of the lot. They all filled the forest floor with colour and gave the scene bravado, it managed to lift my spirits, even if only slightly. That movie was taking a toll on me physically, mentally… and emotionally. Lost in my internal world, I slammed my shin once again into the stairs to my trailer, I’d zoned out again. Groaning in pain, I stepped up into the cream and apricot room.
