INT. PSYCH WARD CAFETERIA - DAY
PATIENTS are seated around the room. Most are eating their lunches -- a tray of meatloaf and mashed potatoes and blueberry Jell-O. Some are talking among themselves. JIMMY (16) sits alone at a table in the far off corner of the room. He’s hunched over and writing in a notebook. He pauses and turns his head to the window. He briefly studies the bars on the windows.
BECKETT (OS): They say they put those bars on there for our safety…
Jimmy, startled by the intrusion, quickly closes his notebook and turns his focus to BECKETT WELSH (18), a kid from the Bronx, infamously known around the mental hospital as being a pill-poppin', mischief-causin' lunatic.
BECKETT:…But really it’s to make this place feel like a prison.
Jimmy doesn’t speak.
BECKETT (CONT’D): You’re new here, aren’t you?
JIMMY: Actually, I’ve been here twenty-nine and a half days.
BECKETT: So then, you are new.
Beckett pulls up a chair from another table and sits down across from Jimmy.
BECKETT (CONT’D): (extending his arm/hand) The name’s Beckett.
JIMMY: (shaking the outreached hand) Jimmy.
The handshake lasts a little too long for comfort; Jimmy pulls away.
BECKETT: (keeps smiling) So, Jimmy……….What’s wrong with you?
-- CUTAWAY --
INT. DOCTOR’S OFFICE - DAY
Jimmy and his MOTHER and FATHER are seated across from the DOCTOR.
DOCTOR: I’m sorry to have to tell you but…….Your son’s poetic.
Mother breaks down in tears, as Jimmy’s Father embraces her to console her.
INT. PSYCH WARD CAFETERIA - DAY (CONTINUOUS)
BECKETT: Same for me. But what do they say is wrong with you?
“I guess this is…..good-bye.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“Does it matter that I don’t want it to be?”
“………I’m afraid not.”
“Well, we had a good run, didn’t we?”
“We did alright.”
EXT. DESERTED ROAD - NIGHT
HITCHHIKER, half-scarred face, stands at the side of the road near the cornfields.
A car drives down the road. / Close-up of...
NOTE: This might seem too long (it could very well be). BUT keep in mind, there’s a lot of quick cuts & a montage. It’s a first draft after all, so there’s plenty of room for...
NOTE: THANK YOU to Sarah Scott, Luis C. Lewis, Iluminar, Shonam, & raesybilrocks83 for writing about the little things. All of your words helped me write the following...
INT. HOME OFFICE - DAY / NIGHT
Young woman (me), with long, blonde hair sits in front of a computer. We see words on the screen and the back of my head. Two windows behind...
I haven’t been the same since my operation. I’m always full of so much energy and excitement now that I don’t know what to do with myself. My appetite has changed drastically. I’ll...
The tickling whiskers of a kitty cat
The tears that pour out
From a good hearty laugh
The last piece of pie left
“Go ahead,” you say
You can have it
My little things
Walking down the streets
You will see
They are everywhere
Staring down at you
With their wide eyes
Hovering over you
They don’t eat
They don’t sleep
But these cinder block,
Déjà vu, déjà vu
Who are you?
Who are you?
Some old friend (or foe) I once knew?