Misery Page #2

PAUL:

I haven't been a writer since I got

into the Misery business --

SINDELL:

(holding up the cover art

of Misery's Child)

Not a bad business. This thing would

still be growing, too. The first

printing order on Misery's Child was

the most ever -- over a million.

PAUL:

Marcia, please.

SINDELL:

No, no. Misery Chastain put braces on

your daughter's teeth and is putting

her through college, bought you two

houses and floor seats to the Knick

games and what thanks does she get?

You go and kill her.

PAUL:

Marcia, you know I started "Misery"

on a lark. Do I look like a guy who

writes romance novels? Do I sound

like Danielle Steel? It was a one-time

shot and we got lucky. I never meant

it to become my life. And if I hadn't

gotten rid of her now, I'd have ended

up writing her forever.

(touches his briefcase)

For the first time in fifteen years, I

think I'm really onto something here.

SINDELL:

I'm glad to hear that, Paul, I really

am. But you have to know -- when your

fans find out that you killed off their

favorite heroine, they're not going to

say, "Ooh, good, Paul Sheldon can

finally write what we've always wanted:

an esoteric, semi-autobiographical

character study.

PAUL:

(passionately)

Marcia, why are you doing this to me?

Don't you know I'm scared enough?

Don't you think I remember how nobody

gave a sh*t about my first books? You

think I'm dying to go back to shouting

in the wilderness?

(beat)

I'm doing this because I have to.

(Marcia is stopped)

Now, I'm leaving for Colorado to try

to finish this and I want your good

thoughts -- because if I can make it

work ...

(beat)

I might just have something that I

want on my tombstone.

On the word "tombstone"

CUT TO:

PAUL'S TOMBSTONE -- the upside down car with the blizzard coming

gale-force and his motionless body trapped inside the car.

The WIND screams. PAUL'S EYES flutter, then close.

HOLD:

KEEP HOLDING AS --

Suddenly there's a new sound as a crowbar SCRATCHES at the door --

-- and now the door is ripped open as we

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

A BUNDLED-UP FIGURE gently beginning to pull PAUL and the case

from the car. For a moment, it's hard to tell if it's a man or

woman --

-- not to let the cat out of the bag or anything, but it is, very

much, a woman. Her name is ANNIE WILKES and she is close to Paul's

age. She is in many ways a remarkable creature. Strong, self-

sufficient, passionate in her likes and dislikes, loves and hates.

CUT TO:

PAUL AND ANNIE as she cradles him in her arms. Once he's clear of

the car, she lays him carefully in the snow.

CUT TO:

PAUL AND ANNIE:
CLOSE UP. She slowly brings her mouth down close

to his. Then their lips touch as she forces air inside him.

ANNIE:

(Their lips touch again.

Then --)

You hear me -- Breathe! I said breathe!!!

CUT TO:

PAUL, as he starts to breathe --

-- in a moment his eys suddenly open wide, but he's in shock, the

eyes see nothing --

CUT TO:

ANNIE -- the moment she sees him come to life, she goes into

action, lifting PAUL in a fireman's carry, starting the difficult

climb back up the steep hill.

As she moves away, she and Paul are obliterated by the white

falling snow.

DISSOLVE TO:

THE WHITE OF WHAT SEEMS LIKE A HOSPITAL. Everything is bled of

color. It's all vague --

-- we are looking at this from Paul's blurred vision.

And throughout this next sequence, there are these SOUNDS, words

really, but they make no sense.

"...no...worry...

...be...fine...

...good care...you...

...I'm your number one fan..."

The first thing we see during this is something all white. It

takes a moment before we realize it's a ceiling.

Now, a white wall.

An I.V. bottle is next, the medicine dripping down a tube into

PAUL'S LEFT ARM. The other arm is bandaged and in a sling.

ANNIE is standing beside the bed. She wears off-white and seems

very much like a nurse. A good nurse. She has pills in her hands.

CUT TO:

PAUL. Motionless, dead pale. He has a little beard now. Eyes

barely open, he's shaking with fever.

PAUL:

(hardly able to whisper)

...where...am I...?

ANNIE is quickly by his side.

ANNIE:

(so gently)

Shhh...we're just outside Silver Creek.

PAUL:

How long...?

ANNIE:

You've been here two days. You're

gonna be okay.

(relieved)

My name is Annie Wilkes and I'm --

PAUL:

-- my number one fan.

And now the gibberish words make sense.

ANNIE:

That's right. I'm also a nurse. Here.

(Now, as she brings the

pills close)

Take these.

She helps him to swallow, as Paul's eyes close.

DISSOLVE TO:

AN EXTERIOR OF THE PLACE. It's a farmhouse -- we're in a desolate

area with mountains in the background.

THE HOUSE is set on a knoll so that Paul's room, although on the

first floor, is ten feet off the ground.

CUT TO:

PAUL, in the room. He's not on the I.V. anymore. His fever has

broken. Annie enters, pills in her hand.

ANNIE:

Here.

PAUL:

What are they...?

ANNIE:

They're called Novril -- they're for

your pain. (helps him take them)

ANNIE applies a cool rag to his forehead.

PAUL:

Shouldn't I be in a hospital?

ANNIE:

The blizzard was too strong. I couldn't

risk trying to get you there. I tried

calling, but the phone lines are down.

PAUL tries to test his left arm.

ANNIE:

(Gently, her fingers go

to his eyelids, close

them)

Now you mustn't tire yourself. You've

got to rest, you almost died.

CUT TO:

ANNIE:
CLOSE UP. Sometimes her face shows the most remarkable

compassion. It does now.

HOLD ON IT briefly.

DISSOLVE TO:

CLOSE UP ON PILLS IN ANNIE'S HAND.

ANNIE (o-s)

Open wide.

CUT TO:

PAUL'S ROOM

He lies in bed. His fever is gone, but he's terribly weak.

CUT TO:

ANNIE. As she lays the pills on PAUL'S TONGUE, she gives him a

glass of water from the nearby bed table.

CUT TO:

PAUL, swallowing eagerly.

CUT TO:

ANNIE, watching him, sympathetically.

ANNIE:

Your legs just sing grand opera when

you move, don't they?

(Paul says nothing, but

his pain is clear)

It's not going to hurt forever, Paul,

I promise you.

PAUL:

Will I be able to walk?

ANNIE:

Of course you will. And your arm will

be fine, too. Your shoulder was

dislocated pretty badly, but I finally

popped it back in there.

(proudly)

But what I'm most proud of is the work

I did on those legs. Considering what

I had around the house, I don't think

there's a doctor who could have done

any better.

And now suddenly she flicks off the blankets, uncovering his body.

CUT TO:

PAUL, staring, stunned at the bottom half of his body as we

CUT TO:

PAUL'S LEGS. From the knees down he resembles an Egyptian mummy --

she's splinted them with slim steel rods that look like the

hacksawed remains of aluminum crutches and there's taping circling

around.

From the kness up they're all swollen and throbbing and horribly

bruised and discolored.

CUT TO:

PAUL, lying back, stunned with disbelief.

ANNIE:

It's not nearly as bad as it looks.

You have a compound fracture of the

tibia in both legs, and the fibula

in the left leg is fractured too. I

could hear the bones moving, so it's

best for your legs to remain immobile.

And as soon as the roads open, I'll

take you to a hospital.

Rate this script:3.0 / 4 votes