Ep.1- Cry Baby Cry

A couple of months ago, I started writing a screenplay that started out as a horror short film, but has now turned into more of a Sci-fi/Thriller miniseries. This is a final draft of my first episode. The plot and characters are still unfolding, but I want to share as I go as an attempt to gain some constructive feedback. Thanks for reading!

EXT.  GRASS FIELD - SUNSET

A vast grass field glistens under the last hours of summer sun and there is a woman lying alone near the center of it. From hundreds of feet away, she appears swallowed by the landscape. As we draw closer—

—FLASH SCENES OF SURROUNDING FOREST—

Dense roots disappearing into earth.

Leaves trembling in the wind.

Deer peaking up from the bluestem.

Birds dancing in the sky.

The woman’s figure and appearance gradually come into focus as we close distance. She lies perfectly still. Arms folded, feet crossed. It is impossible to tell whether she is sleeping or staring expressionless at the sky.

Meanwhile, the forest hums with life; ants march crumbs up dirt mounds, fish sway beneath the surface of a quiet lake, bees swarm around a hive hanging off the branch of an old tree. Somewhere in the forest, there’s a praying mantis resting motionless atop a leaf. Another mantis, smaller and more slender,  slowly begins climbing the stem.

The larger mantis notices but remains completely still. The smaller inches closer and begins swaying back and forth. Its forelegs rise and fall in a careful rhythm. The larger mantis answers, intrigued by the other’s dance for her. The smaller mantis climbs onto her. They begin mating.

Back in the field,

We are close enough now to see every detail of this woman’s face. She stares upward, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes.

The mantises are still joined together, creating something new. The female mantis stretches backward, and within a second, she tears the male’s head free and begins eating it. His body continues to mate with her as she continues to rip off pieces of his body and ingest them. His job is done, and she will now carry their eggs.

—CUT TO WOMAN LAYING IN FIELD—

She fills the frame, still staring at the sky, a faint smile across her face.

—CUT TO BLACK—

A baby cries.

EXT. GRASS FIELD - SUNSET

The woman lies where we left her. Her smile is gone. She scratches her forearm, then the other. She raises her calves and begins scratching them too. The itching spreads all over her body.

Her face. Her neck. Her feet.

She claws at her skin harder, her breathing shortens. Red welts blossom beneath her fingertips. She shoots upright and starts toward her car, still scratching, skin swelling into hives. One patch here, another there.

A man appears to be standing in the same field, but something is wrong. His arms and chest are streaked with blood. The light is different, a different time—or somewhere else entirely. He watches, then—

He runs.

The woman breaks into a sprint, as if she can feel him approaching her. He closes in on her.

Closer.

Closer.

He reaches out his hand and touches her shoulder. She stops. The camera circles around her and no one is there.

Just wind.

Just grass.

Her breathing catches. Her body locks into an erect position and her arms fall limb to her sides. Her head falls back, and a quiet whimper escapes her.

—CUT TO TITLE SCREEN—

INT.  ASHA’S CAR - SUNSET

A PHONE RINGS.

Asha (early 20’s, beautiful but with a face that looks older when she’s quiet) sits behind the wheel, still catching her breath. Her fingers tremble as she tosses a small bottle of Benadryl into her bag on the passenger seat. She fidgets with the buttons on the steering wheel as the phone continues ringing.

No answer. Voicemail.

Asha: Hey…I was just calling to see if you’re okay. I’m sorry I keep calling, I just—I really hope you’re okay. I feel horrible about everything that happened. There’s been a lot going on lately. I think the stress is finally catching up, it’s messing with my body...With my thoughts.

Sometimes I don’t even know if what I’m saying—or hearing—is real. Like it’s not really me. It scares me. I’m not trying to use that as an excuse for anything, I’m just…I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I hope you’re okay. I really—

The voicemail beeps and the call disconnects.

Asha: (barely a whisper) …miss you.

She lowers the phone and starts the car.

(MUSIC: “I. FLIGHT OF THE NAVIGATOR” CHILDISH GAMBINO)

Golden light washes over the windshield. The road stretches ahead as Asha drives, not in a hurry, but going a consistent 6 miles over the limit. The car drifts slightly in and out of the lane. She corrects it, then drifts again.

She drives on, lost in a daze. Traffic thickens as the city closes in.

—FLASH TO—

A man sits beneath a stoplight with a cardboard sign reading “JESUS WOULD WANT YOU TO.”

Abandoned storefronts and apartment building that are falling apart.

Families with dogs.

Children chasing each other through sprinklers.

Asha grips the steering wheel tight. Her eyes are turning red and glossy. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a second.

—FLASH TO—

A forest.

She stands underneath a low-hanging tree with a man, their tan skin gleaming under hot shards of summer sun.

They laugh. They kiss. They’re beautiful.

—FLASH TO—

A night.

They got drunk and stupid.

Too loud. Too close.

—FLASH TO—

A necklace he bought her. At an apothecary shop on 55th, where there was mugwort tea and palo santo incense.

And books on metaphysical philosophy.

Then she saw it—the tigers eye pendant wired into the shape of a bee, and he clasped it to her neck without her saying a word.

And the lady at the counter had told them that many people had their eye on this one, so they should clean it.

And they did—that same night, bouncing it between their sweat-beaded chests.

—CUT BACK TO ROAD—

The music warps and the memories distort with it.

A police siren erupts from behind her. Blue and red light flood the mirrors.

Asha: No…Fuck!

Asha pulls onto the shoulder. She cuts the music as the officer approaches.

Cop: Evening, miss. How’s your night going?

Asha: It’s going…okay. How are you?

Cop: Can’t complain…Still early, though—could get better.

Asha forces a polite smile.

Cop: Got any plans tonight?

She hesitates.

Asha: Uh…no.

Cop: Really? Seems like you were in a hurry.

Asha blinks.

Asha: No.

Cop: Well the reason I stopped you is because you rolled through that stop sign back there. Did you happen to notice that?

Asha: I saw the stop sign, I thought I did completely stop. My fault.

Cop: Can I see your license, miss?

Asha freezes.

Asha: I… well I actually don’t have that on me at this exact moment, but I do have my—

Cop: Is your license valid?

Asha: Yeah, it should be.

The officer studies her for a moment.

Cop: Im gonna go look it up. Give me your name and your birthdate.

He walks back to his car and from her window she can hear radio chatter. Though indistinguishable, the conversation lasts a while. Asha stares ahead as the words blur together. She recalls a memory.

Police sirens. Flashing lights. Handcuffs.

She remembers the ugly mugshot photo that she thought might end up online somewhere. The concrete walls in the holding cell. The slightly younger Asha curled into herself, her knees tightening against her chest, trying to become smaller.

Smaller.

Smaller.

Her body folding, fusing inward, tighter, and smaller. Smaller as though she was no bigger than a pea. As though she could shrink herself into nothing.

* KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK *

The officer stands outside her window. He looks concerned. Unsettled, even.

Cop: Im gonna let you off with a warning... Just make a full stop next time.

Asha just nods.

Cop: Have a safe night.

He walks away and Asha exhales.

Asha: (whispers) Thank you.

Asha starts her car and begins driving home.

Asha: (To herself) I know. I know. Im fucking this up and I need to get it together. I would say I’m trying…but trying is just a better sounding word for getting through the day and pretending nothing is happening to me…What is happening? Honestly, I don’t know anymore. I feel like parts of me are scattered all over the place. It so easy to forget about them when you’re this detached and fucking wistful!

A beat.

I want to find balance. I want to appreciate everything, but sometimes it all just feels so…fucked. Like—what’s the point? You know?…Well you probably don’t know cause you aren’t here, but when you were, you felt it too didn’t you? —Like something’s not right. I guess it hasn’t been right for a while but now it feels like…It feels like when you were about to die. The closer it got to the end, the sooner we could see it coming and when it happened, I don’t think anyone was surprised, I don’t even think you were.

I wish I could ask how you always looked so present. Nowadays it feels like Im everywhere except where I actually am, and it shows.

She smiles softly.

I’m alright right now, though. Im here. I can’t keep ignoring my problems and everything that happens to me, I have to really face it. Tonight could’ve gone a lot worse, I know. So I'll take care of it. I'll take care of myself, and you know what? I’ll stop at every stop sign from now on. Fuck it. Anyway, thanks for watching over me and I love you.

INT.  ASHA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

The front door opens and Asha walks in, carrying grocery bags. She clicks on the kitchen light. It buzzes on after a second and warm light fills the small space. Plants and flowers everywhere.

Small pots of African violets line the pony wall to the left of the front door.

Lilies ripen on the wooden countertops.

Bright marigolds at the center of the table in the dining room, where there’s also a small pink box sitting.

(MUSIC: “CRY BABY CRY” RAMSEY LEWIS)

She takes off her shoes and begins unloading her grocery bags on the dining room table. Menstrual pads. Some Advil. A few bottles of wine. Beside them, the pink box—

An unopened pregnancy test.

She stares at it for a moment then looks away. She opens the pads, takes the wine, and heads to the couch. The television flickers on and blue light fills the room. Asha sits still watching the blank, blue screen.

—CUT TO BLACK—