I DO Actually Do Things, You Know

28 Nov

[Editor’s Note: So, what’s the next pointless review you’re going to be working on?]

Oi! Ouch, jackass.

[Editor’s Note: Well, come on, it’s not like you ever do anything else.]

I totally do! Blow it out your ass, motherfucker!

[Editor’s Note: Making fun of people doesn’t count, you know.]

I wasn’t talking about that! In fact, I was working on a legitimate horror movie script just the other day! You’ve Got Me Under Your Skin!

[Editor’s Note: Huh. Is it any good?]

Well…

[SCENE ONE]

[Open with the lobby of the Alto Clef Psychiatric Center. As the credits roll, we see the bright, fluorescent lighted hallways and primary colour scheme. Reds, greens, and blues are used to try and make the facility seem less soulless, and the brightly coloured drawings by the patients that adorn the poster boards do little to help.]

[Alice Glass enters from the huge doors, covered in snow from the storm outside. The snow leaves the world outside the glass doors and windows over-exposed and nearly impossible to make out, except for the bustling movement. Alice is dressed in a large brown long-coat, a white dress shirt, black slacks, and an ornate black neckerchief around her neck. She takes a moment to shake the snow from her coat, and look around the lobby with apprehension, before stepping to the receptionist’s desk.]

ALICE: Um, hello. [flashes identification] Alice Glass, I’m here to see my sister?

[The receptionist is old, grumpy, and most likely smells like old cigarettes.]

RECEPTIONIST: Please fill out this identification paperwork, sir.

ALICE: Oh, thank you! But, um, I’d actually prefer ‘ma’am’.

RECEPTIONIST: Your drivers license says “male”.

[Alice nonchalantly pulls her jacket aside, revealing her police badge, and Luger pistol in holster.]

ALICE: [with a huge, insincere smile] I’d really prefer “ma’am”.

[The receptionist freezes for a moment, but quickly regains her grumpy exterior.]

RECEPTIONIST: Have a nice day… ma’am.

[Alice walks to one of the rickety chairs that every waiting room inevitably has, and as her smile quickly fades, attempts in vain to make herself comfortable. As she fills out answers on the sheet, she slips her headphones on, and listens to a verse from “I’ve Got You Under My Skin”, Frank Sinatra. She pulls out a box of electronic cigarettes, and before she can activate one, she’s interrupted by an excited, plump red-headed nurse.]

MOLLY: No smoking in here- oh! Are you Miss Glass?

ALICE: [startled, pulls her headphones off] That’s certainly what it says on all this stupid paperwork.

MOLLY: [grinning like a loon] Oh, Justine is going to be so excited that you’re here! Please, right this way, Miss Glass, just hand in your paperwork and any unsavory items to the receptionist! And still no smoking.

[SCENE TWO]

[Molly leads Alice through the bright hallways, past the various patients and caretakers, all of whom are used to Molly’s bright and exuberant tone of voice.]

MOLLY: The Alto Clef Psychiatric Care Center is a 252 bed facility that provides specialized inpatient mental health and acquired brain injury treatment and rehabilitation services to residents of-

ALICE: Yeah, yeah, I read the pamphlets.

MOLLY: Hmm? Oh! Right, sorry, sorry, I just forget sometimes- I’ve only been here a few months, sometimes I forget that I’m allowed to go off script.

ALICE: How’re you liking it here so far?

MOLLY: Good! I mean- [for a moment, Molly looks guilty] It’s not perfect- well, no job is, but still. About ninety nine of the patients here are complete sweethearts, but that last one percent-

ALICE: Yeah, I know what you mean, my sister can be a real handful sometimes.

MOLLY: [looks positively ashamed] What?! No, no, no, no- not her, I’d never mean to say- she’s just really a darling, and she has the cutest drawings- she once drew me up a giraffe- I’m just talking about- okay, I probably shouldn’t, but there was this old man, dementia, and I was assigned to clean his room, and he just straight up threw his bedpan at me, and it was full! So I-

ALICE: [growing irritation] Hey, miss, do you wanna know how I know you’re perfect for this job?

MOLLY: W- wha-

ALICE: You never shut up. Near as I can tell, that’s the single most important factor for medical personnel.

[Molly stammers in confusion.]

ALICE: [gestures to the door they’ve stopped in front of] This her room?

[SCENE THREE]

[The door slowly creaks open, and Alice slowly steps inside Justine’s dark room. The lights are off, the blinds are drawn, and Justine is kneeling on the floor, painting an oil painting on canvas with one hand, and with the other, she taps a gentle rhythm. The room is adorned with old, leather bound books, and her old paintings. Each one is abstract, full of jagged edges that blend into swooping lines. An old boombox radio sits in the corner, quietly playing “We’ll Meet Again”, Vera Lynn.]

ALICE: [tense, quiet] Hey. Kiddo.

[Justine turns around, flashes a shakey smile for a moment, before turning away in terror.]

ALICE: What’s wrong? Justine?

JUSTINE: Don’t.

ALICE: … What?

JUSTINE: You look. No. Don’t.

ALICE: [trying to change the subject] Nice room. I like it. Is that nurse treating you alright?

[Justine only shakes her head.]

ALICE: Heh. I like your paintings. They’re… a lot prettier than they used to be. Would you mind if I took one home?

[Justine continues to shake her head.]

ALICE: Jesus, Justine, we can’t keep doing this. You’re going to have to speak up at some point.

JUSTINE: Don’t. Don’t don’t don’t don’t. You’re her.

ALICE: [trying not to cry] I’m- I’m not. Justine, I’m not her.

JUSTINE: Not yet.

[Justine reaches over, and turns the radio up to cancel out Alice’s attempts at conversation.]

[SCENE FOUR]

[Alice sits on an uncomfortable chair outside her sister’s room, looking at the too-bright snowstorm from out of a window. In one hand, she holds her electronic cigarettes, and in the other, a single real one. Molly exits Justine’s room, closing the door quietly and shaking Alice out of her reverie.]

ALICE: How is she?

MOLLY: Um. Good. She’s- she’s doing good.

ALICE: Heh. Thanks.

MOLLY: Miss Glass, I have to-

ALICE: Sorry, by the way.

MOLLY: What?

ALICE: Sorry for being such a dick to you beforehand. Before I went in there. I just- I always get so tense before I go to see her. Hell, I don’t even know why I still bother coming. Maybe I’m just a fucking masochist.

MOLLY: [shining a brilliant smile] Well, sororal love is one of the most powerful forces on earth!

ALICE: [smiling a cruel smile] Look, lady, you said you’ve been working here for months, right? And did you never wonder why I never came to visit her that whole time? Lemme give you a spoiler, it’s not because I loved her so much that I couldn’t fit it through the fucking door.

[Molly looks down, with Alice following suit.]

ALICE: Sorry. Mean. That was mean.

MOLLY: Not even the worst thing I’ve heard here.

ALICE: Heh, really? And what would that be?

MOLLY: Remind me one of these days to tell you about the “show me that sideways cooter” incident.

[Alice bursts out in shocked laughter, and the duo share quiet giggles.]

ALICE: Oh, fuck, are you even allowed to say that in a psychiatric facility?

MOLLY: Yes, yes, quietly whispering an outdated slang for vaginas in the middle of the hallway is totally being rebellious.

[Molly and Alice smile at each other for a moment, before the silence is suddenly split by a blood-curdling scream.]

ALICE: Um. Is that normal?

MOLLY: You get used to it.

[The scream is repeated, followed by sobbing, and then the same voice screaming, “HE’S GOT A KNIFE!”.]

MOLLY: This is… new.

[Alice doesn’t wait for her to finish her sentence, and has already began sprinting to the sound of the screaming. She passes confused orderlies and nurses, escorting terrified patients to their rooms, as she finally makes it the source of the noise. It’s a patients room, and as Alice enters, she sees the harsh and over-saturated light completely expose the eviscerated man tied to the bed in the center of the room. We get to see it in all of it’s dehumanizing glory, with a rough cut directly down the middle, and the muscles, tendons, internal organs, and bones have all been roughly yanked out and scattered across the room. The man isn’t quite dead yet, and is still panicking and flailing against his zip-tied bondage, while his murderer, an orderly, stands above him, coated in blood, with a box cutter in his hands. Alice takes a moment to take it all in, before establishing the orderly as a threat, and immediately snaps the orderlies arm at the elbow, forcing him to drop the box cutter. She sweeps his legs out from under him, and slams him to the floor, where he lands face first in the gore scattered across the floor.]

[As Alice yells for help, the sound slowly fades out as we focus on the orderly slowly sobbing.]

[Editor’s Note: You could have just answered “no”.]

I’M NOT TALKING TO YOU ANY MORE.

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