* This is a fictionalized account of some shit that actually happened. All the names, locations, etc. have been changed to protect the innocent as well as the guilty. – JG *
Later that night, I had a dream about Hannah Graeber.
EXTERIOR – SNAKELAND – DAY
Snakeland, an abandoned industrial wasteland, sets the stage for this scene. HANNAH GRAEBER, a Head girl dressed in a denim vest, black concert t-shirt, tight stone-washed jeans and strappy black boots, walks along the edge of a concrete wall. As she walks, she recites this poem:
The cats create, anticipate
There’s six of them
And one of me
But they all die
Then I am free
Cats and rats have heart attacks
And they all die
And we all die
And they all live
And we all live
But snakes don’t die, they multiply
And shed their skins
And say goodbye.
On “goodbye”, Hannah steps far to the right and falls off the wall. The CAMERA, as if it were a person, goes running up handheld to the wall where she was walking and looks over. There is no one fallen, no one there underneath.
INTERIOR – HOOVER’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
Hoover bolts upright out of his bed, sweaty and awake. He cups his hands and runs them over his face, wiping the sweat out of his eyes. Hoover looks over at the clock – it reads 6:66. Hoover shakes it off, looks again; the clock reads 3:33. He sighs thankfully, falls back to the pillow and attempts to go back to sleep.
FADE OUT AND INTO: