Gothika Page #5

She struggles as they hold her down and Irene sedatesher.

INT. REC ROOM - DAY

DRIFTING PAST the female patients at their usual activities.

Some watch TV, play dominoes, some pretend to read, somestare out blankly. Here's Chloe at a table, engaged insome sort of trivia game with a tattooed Southern redheadnamed JENNA:

CHLOE:

M.

JENNA:

Mallorol, Matzine, Megaphen,

Meallaril-S, Meleretten, Meleril,

Mellaril, Mellaril-S, Mesoridazine,

Methotrimaprazine, Mixidol, MobanModalina -

(CONTINUED)

25.

CONTINUED:

CHLOE:

Modalina? Isn't that a band?

JENNA:

Trade name for Triflupoerazine.

Look it up.

Chloe shrugs, if you say so. Jenna resumes:

JENNA:

Moditen, Molindone, Moltipress,

Motival. That's it for the 'M's.

CHLOE:

Not bad. High potency

neuroleptics starting with 'J.'

JENNA:

Trick question. There's onlyJatroneural.

CHLOE:

What do you wanna bet?

JENNA:

Bet you a soda.

Chloe checks a reference book. Nods, impressed.

CHLOE:

Right on the money, cowgirl.

Twenty points and a soda.

CAMERA FOLLOWS HER INTENT GAZE to another patient,

SHELLEY (the same patient we saw earlier mid-fit)

moseying across the room. Nervously takes a seat besideMiranda.

SHELLEY:

Hi there, Doc.

It takes a moment for the heavily-drugged Miranda to

react. She looks up slowly: eyes glazed, painfully outof it.

SHELLEY:

I never got shrinked by you butall I hear is nothing gets pastyou, I mean, that's just hearsayand I don't pay much attention tohearsay because now they say youhacked your husband with an axebut I say maybe it just slipped,

right?

(CONTINUED)

26.

CONTINUED:

Miranda notices Shelley is toying with a wrinkledNEWSPAPER CLIPPING. Shelley catches this look and slidesit over to her. Without malice, like a child.

SHELLEY:

They put your picture in the

paper.

It reads "SCHOOL PRINCIPAL SLAUGHTERED. WIFE UNDER

ARREST." Photos of Miranda, Douglas, their house.

Miranda stares at it in disbelief. Growing sick.

MIRANDA:

How did you get this?

SHELLEY:

Chloe did. Who knows how? Not

me. Around here I'm on a need to

know basis about stuff and most

stuff I don't need to know. Mypoint is about people talkingbehind other people's backs. Like

before I was here, everything Idid I thought, 'this'll get them,'

wanting their approval, wantingthem to say good things behind myback. But now I'm more anonymous,

more myself. I'm Shelley.

Miranda slides the clipping back to Shelley, clueless asto how to get out of this conversation, but Shelley hasno problem holding a conversation all by herself -

SHELLEY:

You're not like, undercover here,

are you? They pulled that atSpring Grove, had a bunch ofdoctors pretend they werepatients, see if they could handleit. Most quit after day one.

You're not, are you?

MIRANDA:

No, Shelley. I'm not undercover.

SHELLEY:

Because if you were, I'm like theFort Knox of secrets. Ask

anybody.

MIRANDA:

That's good to know. But I'm not.

(CONTINUED)

27.

CONTINUED:

SHELLEY:

Say no more.

(sotto)

I understand perfectly.

She hands Miranda paper and some crayons, whispers:

SHELLEY:

Drawing is a great cover. Good

luck to you.

With a wink, she's gone. Miranda looks at the room

around her:
Chloe spying on her in the corner, Irene andthe nurse sharing a laugh, other patients ambling about,

arguing -

Life among the insane.

INT. LOCKER ROOM - DRESSING AREA - DAY

Patients undress in the bare-bones locker area. An

uneasy Miranda is handed a bar of soap and towel byIrene.

MIRANDA:

I don't -- I think I'm alright.

IRENE:

You go in last because you'respecial.

(off Miranda's look)

It's not a Mexican prison, toots.

Everybody here minds their ownbusiness.

MIRANDA:

If it's all the same, I'd

rather -

IRENE:

State law says we keep you ladiesclean. And I'm a stickler for the

law.

(beat)

Now come on. If you go downtown,

you gotta dance.

Miranda studies the patients already under the spray ofthe shower. Something vaguely concentration camp-likeabout institutional bathing.

(CONTINUED)

28.

CONTINUED:

The shower, like everything else in this place, isregulated by shifts, so that various groupings ofpatients each get their turn. Miranda feels Chloe's gazeon her across the room. She is stripping off her clothesfor Miranda's benefit, gleefully mangling the lastrefrain from the Stones' "START ME UP."

IRENE:

(checking watch)

That's five minutes, group one.

(to Chloe's group)

Alright, ladies, nice and easy.

The first group of bathers file out, dripping wet pastMiranda, in all shapes and sizes. She registers theirmany scars and tattoos, like maps of troubled souls:

names of men, places, religious quotes. Burn scars,

cuts, needle marks. They begin to towel off as Miranda,

slowly and painfully self-conscious, begins to undress inthe corner.

A moment later Irene nods for her to go in.

INT. COMMUNAL SHOWERS - LATER

Miranda hangs her head under the spray and closes hereyes, trying to shut it all out.

The SOUNDS slowly FADE OUT until all we have is Mirandaand her RAGGED BREATHING. Chloe and Shelley, the lasttwo out from the previous group, grab towels.

Chloe winks at Miranda when she catches her staring, butMiranda is not staring at her. She is staring past herat the tile wall.

More specifically at a hole in the tile where a bustedwater pipe pokes out. Clearly at some point there was ahandle there, but now it is just a hole with a bustedpipe.

PUSH INTO the hole to see a perfectly-formed globule ofblood emerge, following by a GURGLING sound which seemsto come from deep in the bowels of the plumbing system.

The blood lingers tentatively, as if unfamiliar with thelaws of gravity, before tracing an upward line along thetile. The GURGLING GROWS LOUDER, CLOSER, and now more

blood flows from the hole and spreads up the wall.

Miranda looks away, disturbed, and now realizes she isthe only one left in the showers. Panic. Shuts her

eyes.

(CONTINUED)

29.

CONTINUED:

MIRANDA:

(to self)

It isn't real. It isn't real.

Opens her eyes.

Five letters are written in blood. N-O-T-A-L.

Shaking, nauseous, she looks down at her feet and thedrain, too scared to look back up.

MIRANDA:

(to self)

It isn't real. You're

hallucinating.

Perhaps. But now blood drips by her ankle, DRIP, DRIP,

DRIP. And the shooting pain she feels is coming from her

arm. What the hell -- ? WE SEE SHARP SLASHES appearingon her skin, like some invisible knife is slicing her.

Hallucination or not, she bolts out of the showers -

INT. LOCKER ROOM - DRESSING AREA

Miranda wraps a towel around her bloody arm, too freakedout to process anything. Fumbles for her clothes and heads

straight to Shelley, tying her shoelaces, muttering.

MIRANDA:

Shelley?

SHELLEY:

And pick up those damn cigarettebutts. Jesus, TV is dumb -

MIRANDA:

Shelley, can you do me a favor??

Shelley fixes her with an intense conspiratorial look.

SHELLEY:

The housewives will find somethingbetter to do.

MIRANDA:

Can you go in the shower and tellme if you see anything on the wall?

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