The Sixth Sense Page #16

Beat. A long silence. Then WE HEAR ANNA GENTLY HANG UP.

Malcolm leans back against an old radiator. Beat.

His eyes close as the SOUND OF HIS WIFE'S FOOTSTEPS RISES UP THE

STAIRS.

CUT TO:

INT. BROWNSTONE - NIGHT

The house is silent. No movement.

Cole is in his pajamas asleep on the floor of the TENT.

Curled up next to him is Sebastian. They sleep surrounded by

statues and pictures.

Cole's eyes open as he hears HIS MOTHER'S DISTANT VOICE.

LYNN:

Cole...

(beat)

Cole, what's happening...

Cole quickly gets up and rushes out of the tent. His foot

catches one of the chairs the tent is fastened to. He stumbles

out. He doesn't realize one of the bedsheets comes loose. It

folds to the ground.

CUT TO:

INT. HALL - NIGHT

He doesn't stop as he moves through the shadowy hall and pushes

open his mother's bedroom door.

CUT TO:

INT. LYNN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Cole stands in the doorway to his mother's bedroom. He looks

over the room carefully. Everything is still.

Lynn's room is sparse. No paintings, no accessaries. A bed

without a frame sits in the corner. A table with a sewing

machine fills the other side of the room.

HIS MOTHER'S VOICE turns his attention back to the bed.

LYNN:

Cole, what's happening to you?

Cole looks down and finds his mother laying in her bed. Her face

contorted in deep sadness as she speaks in her sleep.

LYNN:

Is someone hurting you?... I'll

beat their asses.

Cole smiles at his mother as he moves to her side. Touches her

face with his tiny fingers.

COLE:

(whispers)

Momma, you sleep now.

His touch seems to have an effect. Lynn becomes still in her

sleep. Cole watches her carefully.

COT TO:

INT. HALL - NIGHT

Cole closes the door to his mother's bedroom shut. He stands

still in the hallway. Lets out a heavy sigh...

HIS BREATH ROLLS IN A TINY CLOUD IN FRONT OF HIM.

Cole's brow furrows. He breathes again. This time

intentionally. Watches as his breath materializes in the

suddenly ice cold air.

Every muscle in Cole's eight-year-old body becomes rigid. He

takes a second before moving through the inky darkness of the

hall.

CUT TO:

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

Cole hurries to fix his tent. He ties the collapsed bedsheet in

a knot on the edge of the chair. He checks it carefully before

entering the tent.

CUT TO:

INT. TENT - NIGHT

When Cole turns around, he stops breathing.

AN EIGHT-YEAR-OLD GIRL VOMITS ON HERSELF IN HIS TENT. She

finishes and looks up at Cole with drawn eyes.

GIRL:

I'm feeling much better now.

The girl reaches out with her withered and emaciated hands --

tiny tubes hang from her wrists. She scratches Cole as he

tumbles back terrified out of the tent. The whole tent collapses --

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Cole runs hard out of his bedroom and down the hall to the living

room. He gets down to the ground and slides under the wooden-

legged couch.

Sebastian is already huddled in fear under the couch. Cole

presses as far back as he can and waits.

COLE'S P.O.V. -- is of the living room floor. Chair legs.

Coffee table base. Rugs... Everything is still.

Cole holds his breath. He waits. Beat. Nothing happens. He

takes his first short breaths and watches the room for any sign

of movement.

CUT TO:

INT. COLE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

A few minutes later. Cole is now standing in his doorway. He

stares at the hunched figure covered by the collapsed tent.

BEAT. Cole makes a decision. He looks like he is going to cry --

fights it back.

He walks towards it. Reaches down and slowly pulls the sheet off

the figure. The girl vomits one more time before looking up at

Cole.

GIRL:

I'm feeling much better.

Cole and the little girl stare silently at each other. Cole

holds her stare with trembling eyes.

He opens his mouth -- it takes a while before the words come out.

COLE:

Do you want to tell me something?

CUT TO:

INT. PUBLIC BUS - DAY

A downtown Septa public bus. Malcolm and Cole are among the

spattering of passengers.

They're both wearing suits.

Cole leans his head against the glass of the scratched window.

Cole's large eyes drink in the passing scenery.

COLE'S P.O.V. -- A dark, abandoned building stretches for an

entire block on one side. A MAN IN A GREY, FULL-BODIED UNIFORM

WITH NUMBERS PRINTED ACROSS HIS CHEST... RISES OUT OF THE TALL

WEEDS IN FRONT OF THE BUILDING. HE HOBBLES HIS WAY DESPERATELY

TOWARDS THE BUS. HIS HANDS AND LEGS ARE SHACKLED... HE LUNGES

OUT FOR COLE IN THE PASSING WINDOW.

SHACKLED MAN:

My name's not Sullivan!

A GUNSHOT ECHOES IN THE AIR. THE MAN'S CHEST EXPLODES IN RED AS

HE FALLS TO HIS KNEES SCREAMING.

Cole jerks back from the window.

The bus quietly drives past THE OLD PRISON BUILDING.

Cole stares down at his lap and tries not to look up anymore.

Beat.

COLE:

She came a long way to visit me,

didn't she?

MALCOLM:

I guess she did.

Cole falls into deep thoughts as he stares down at his dress

shoes. Malcolm slips back into silence.

The city bus slithers through the old Philadelphia streets

working its way downtown.

CUT TO:

EXT. HOME - AFTERNOON

A modest home sits on a corner. Its small lawn, groomed

carefully. Rows of parked cars spill out from the driveway onto

the streets.

People in suits and dark dresses move somberly in and out of the

front door of the home.

Cole and Malcolm join the visitors as they walk slowly towards

the doors.

A frail, little girl about four years of age sits in a dark dress

on the swings in front of the house. Visitors say hello to her

as they pass. She doesn't say anything back.

MALCOLM:

Her little sister?

Cole nods, "Yes."

Malcolm and Cole watch her for a moment before following others

into the modest corner home.

CUT TO:

INT. HOME - AFTERNOON

The home is packed with people. The gathering of mourners is

standing room only. The AIR IS FILLED WITH DOZENS OF HUSHED

CONVERSATIONS.

VISITOR #1

...can you imagine being a child in

a bed for two years?

We move to.

VISITOR #2

...I think it was six.

We move to.

VISITOR #3

...Six separate doctors?

We move to.

VISITOR #4

(whispers)

...the little one's falling ill now...

We move to.

VISITOR #5

...God help them...

A FAMILY PORTRAIT HANGS NEAR THE FRONT DOOR. Two girls, one

bigger, one smaller sit on the ground in front of their mother

and father. Their smiling faces welcome the mourners.

Malcolm and Cole are standing at the bottom of a staircase.

Waiting.

The front door opens as another group arrives. Malcolm nods to

Cole as the foyer fills up. The two of them quietly disappear

upstairs.

CUT TO:

INT. HALLWAY - AFTERNOON

The narrow hall is lined with boxes of medical supplies. I.V.

stands, sterile needles and pads are in the process of being

taken away. The boxes are piled outside a closed bedroom door.

Cole stares at the shut door like he doesn't want to go in. His

eyes move to the large, colorful map of the world that dons the

hallway wall. He gazes at the many countries and continents.

Beat.

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