Mischief Night

1

Sweets for my sweetie?

Mmm, don't mind

if I do.

Bubbly for my bubbly?

Uh, yeah. I don't think...

That's not a thing.

You want

more champagne or not?

Of course, I do, baby.

Here's to having you to myself

for the entire weekend.

I'm all yours, Will.

Every inch of me.

Come Monday, you won't be

able to walk straight.

I like the sound of that.

Yeah, I mean...

- What was that?

- I have a conscience.

- It was nothing, baby.

- Come on.

Shh!

You just left the TV on.

I wasn't watching TV.

Oh. No. No, come on, don't go.

What if it's your husband?

No way.

He's in Tokyo till Thursday.

Will, it's nothing.

Sh*t!

If it is him...

- Yeah?

- We could always say it was dark.

And we thought

it was an intruder.

An honest mistake,

self-defense, you know?

Yeah.

Come on.

Our sex tape can't be blur.

No, we don't wanna

leave this blurry.

- Come on...

- I need to see you.

I need to see everything.

See. Told you.

Well, I didn't turn it on.

Yeah, right.

Perv.

- You're pinning me down!

- Oh!

Oh!

Naughty little schoolgirl.

I need this too much.

Okay, what the hell

is going on?

Somebody's f***ing with us.

Hello?

It's just some a**hole kids.

I don't know.

You know, my friends and I used to

always pull this crap on Mischief Night.

- Didn't you?

- What the hell is Mischief Night?

There they are.

Cue the bag of flaming poo.

Very funny, ass...

What's going on?

I don't know. But I'm not

taking any chances.

I'm calling the cops.

- Sh*t.

- What?

No dial tone.

There's someone there.

- Where's your cell phone?

- In my purse.

Find it.

- Find it?

- No.

I swear, it was right there!

- Where's yours?

- Jeans.

- Not here.

- Let me look.

Who the hell is it?

Whoever it is, they may

still be in the house.

You go hide in the closet

while I check it out.

If somebody's messing with us,

they'll be sorry.

No.

Be careful.

All right. Go.

Batter's up, a**holes.

Hello?

All right! Who wants

to get their asses kicked?

Huh?

Pussies.

Oh, no. Come on! Come on!

No! No! Come on! Come on!

Oh, my God.

Oh!

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God.

No! No!

Come on! Come on!

Oh, f***!

Let me out of here!

So, how is school?

Fine. A little boring.

Staying out of

trouble then?

No, no.

Uh, let's see.

I've been suspended twice

in the last week,

I'm failing everything,

getting kicked out of all the clubs.

There's this one kid's mom that's

threatening to press charges against me.

Good, good! Glad to hear it.

I... I'm glad to see that everything is on track then, huh?

But seriously, it is.

I mean, I'm...

I'm doing really well, Dr. Pomock.

Like, it might be time for me

to lose the Lexapro.

Emily...

Look, I... I know

what you're going to say.

You're gonna tell me that the

medication makes me feel better,

and that's why I don't think

I need it anymore,

even though I still do.

But in that case...

When do you get

to stop taking the medication?

Yeah.

How about

when your eyesight returns?

Well, that's a cheap shot.

I'm sorry,

I didn't mean for it to be.

Emily, why is it

that you can't see?

Because something happened

in the accident.

Some weird, like, nerve trauma,

some brain trauma, or...

Or emotional trauma?

Causing conversion disorder,

of which your asthma and your

blindness are active symptoms.

Yeah, but maybe

that's not the case.

And maybe the neurologists and the

ophthalmologists and the radiologists are...

All missed something. Yes.

I mean, I'm happy.

I'm well-adjusted, I'm smart,

I have a boyfriend,

my dad and I are super close.

It's been nine years. I...

Shouldn't I be cured by now?

If... If this was all in my head,

wouldn't I be able to see?

Maybe it's you.

Maybe you're just doing

a lousy job.

I see. Well, now

who's taking the cheap shots?

You know what I mean,

this whole process.

You know, maybe this is something

that we need to spend more time

actually talking about.

You know,

really coming to terms with the idea that

you may never regain

your eyesight.

Well...

How would you feel about that?

I mean, if...

If this, what you are seeing

right now,

is all you would ever see

of the world?

Is that okay?

Does it make you angry?

Would you blame somebody, or...

I asked if you'd...

If you'd blame someone.

Yeah.

I'd blame myself.

It's my fault.

She was injured and bleeding

and asking for help.

And I... I just...

Emily, you were

eight years old.

They found you in the snow

nearly frozen to death.

You were going for help,

you said.

Maybe.

Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't,

who remembers?

And the accident itself?

What do you mean?

Uh, was that your fault, too?

I mean, it wasn't like you were actually driving the car,

was it? Or...

Don't.

So, you don't remember

what happened?

No.

Mmm-hmm.

- Hey, kid!

- Hey, Dad.

How'd it go?

Seatbelt.

So, how did it...

Not right now, okay?

Oh!

You all right? Are you all right, honey?

I'm fine. What was that?

It was a pothole.

I'm sorry, it was my fault.

You sure you're okay?

Yeah.

Yeah.

I... I just hit my head.

So you're good?

Dad, please.

So, you don't

remember what happened?

No.

Mmm-hmm.

Except, you do.

It's all in the police report.

So then you know,

and you don't need me to tell you.

No. But I need you

to tell you.

Why? Why does it matter?

Because...

Do you honestly blame yourself

for your mother's death?

I mean,

are you really carrying that weight around with you?

'Cause I gotta say,

if you are,

it's a wonder you could stand,

let alone see.

Look, I don't wanna

talk about this anymore.

Well, you know, that's, uh,

that's just catnip to someone in my profession, okay?

That's probably the precise thing

we should be talking about.

We've been over this

and over it.

You asked why you're still

on the medication,

why you can't see,

why you're still in therapy

after nine years.

Well?

You have to tell me.

Oh, for God's sake!

No, that's the way that it works, kiddo, okay?

You have the answer.

Oh, well, then,

what's the question?

Why do you blame yourself

for your mother's death?

Because it was my fault!

Jimmy calling.

Jimmy calling.

Jimmy calling.

Hey, Jimmy. No, not yet.

I... I will soon.

Tonight. I'll ask him tonight.

I... I promise.

Oh. Me, too.

So how's Jimmy?

Oh, he's fine.

You know, he's a pain.

He's really excited

because it's Mischief Night

and he and his friends are going to

prank some of the guys on the JV squad.

I guess it's some

annual tradition. Boys.

Hey, it's what we do, right?

Get tortured and then torture others in turn.

So it goes,

from one generation to the next.

You did that too?

Well, when we were kids,

we called it "Cabbage Night," believe it or not.

We actually threw

rotten cabbages at each other.

And the occasional car window.

"Cabbage Night?"

God, you were a nerd.

It takes one to know one, huh?

Want me to make you

some dinner before I head out?

Dad, I'm not 12,

I can make my own dinner.

Okay, okay, just asking.

Well, what do you think?

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