Thoughtcrimes

(woman)

Ryan... Ryan.

- How come I've never heard of him?

- Maybe because you've been at college.

- I mentioned him. We dated all semester.

- So what's he like?

What do you want me to say, June?

He's a boy, he's 18,

and, despite the raging hormones,

he actually manages to be quite sweet.

Just don't do anything you'll regret.

Too late. I already own

a pair of acid-wash jeans.

Jokes. I'm trying to protect you,

and you're making jokes.

You act like

I've never been on a date before.

This isn't a date. This is prom.

65% of prom dates end in sex.

- OK, you just made that up.

- OK. Maybe I did.

pop music)

Get on the dance floor!

Dance with me.

Get on the floor. Come on.

(DJ)

We're gonna slow it down a bit.

This is for the graduating seniors at

Chester Arthur High School, class of 1994.

- Dance with me, please.

- OK.

It's not a fast song any more.

You'll be OK. Please?

You see? It's not so bad.

Having fun, right?

I told you.

(boy) Eight bucks an hour, four-hour

minimum. Clock's ticking. Stupid limo!

(girl) What are you using for cologne?

Mustard gas?

What?

Nothing.

- (boy) Staring.

- (girl) This is like the perfect night.

So glad he asked me.

(boy) I hate this place.

Worst night. It sucks.

Can't wait for this to be over.

I just wanna go home.

(boy) I love you so much.

- (girl) Maybe tonight's the night.

- (boy) If you step on my foot again...

(girl) We should've danced

to the other song.

(boy) Three more weeks.

Three more weeks and I'm outta here.

(garbled voices)

(man) Two weeks,

and still no diagnosis.

Without clear physiological signs

it's a little more difficult.

- We're working on her.

- I want her put on suicide watch.

- We don't think Freya's gonna kill herself.

- That's what they said about my wife.

They were working on her, too.

(garbled voices)

(man) McAllister, Freya E.

Committed July 6 1994.

One of our more interesting cases.

Initial diagnosis was

schizophrenic catalepsy,

though opinions were sharply divided

amongst the staff.

It's just that no one

had ever seen such extreme symptoms.

Most cases of schizophrenia

first manifest at puberty,

but rarely does it strike

with such intensity.

In the three years following her committal,

she showed no progress.

But then one day

Freya became a full-blown controversy.

(garbled voices)

"He looked up at me."

"'What did I look like when I was born?'

he asked for the twentieth time

this month,

for the hundredth time this year,

for the past few years."

(voices stop)

"And did Papa sing too?"

"Yes, Papa sang too."

The nurses began to bring in books.

She wasn't just turning pages, but beyond

that we didn't know what to make of it.

Post-pubescent expression of autism?

A new mental anomaly?

I mean, schizophrenic cataleptics

don't read Dickens.

Nor do they engage in strenuous exercise

on a regular basis.

Freya?

Freya, it's June.

Look at me.

There's been an accident.

Freya, look at me.

Dad is dead, Freya.

Can you...?

Would you look at me?

(garbled voices)

(voices subside)

(June) What's going on?

Why is this happening?

Ms McAllister became a ward of the state,

October 2nd 2000.

We've flown in experts, done every test.

We're still at square one.

If you'd called,

I could have saved you the trip.

She's hopeless.

Hopeless?

Look at her, Doctor. She's the most

important person you'll ever meet.

- Excuse me?

- You're excused. Get her tranked,

- and make sure her books are tagged.

- Dr Welles, is this some kind of joke?

Now works for me.

(gasps)

(garbled voices)

(faint voices)

Blocking... now.

Hello, Freya.

You can hear me. Good.

How are you feeling?

The drugs from the hospital

should be wearing off pretty quick.

You know, we have, uh...

we have some non-hospital food

if you're hungry.

Don't be afraid.

We're here to help you.

Where am l?

You're upstate New York, just 30 miles

outside of a little town called Lincroft.

My name's Michael,

and I know all about you.

I know about the voices, all about 'em.

How they changed when

they put you in Brookridge, right?

They screamed and mumbled,

even laughed at you.

I even know things about you you don't

know yourself. Like to hear one?

You're not crazy.

Those voices in your head,

they're not in your imagination.

They come from outside of you.

They're real.

Look at me.

- Look at me.

- No!

(garbled voices)

(voices subside)

(Michael, distorted) Freya.

Freya, look at me.

No one's gonna hurt you.

Come on. Look at me.

The voices in your head are the thoughts

of everyone here, everyone in this room.

Come on, Freya.

No one's gonna hurt you. Look at me.

Look at me!

You can read minds.

Freya, you're a telepath.

I still don't understand.

So you haven't cured me?

Well, you were never really sick

to begin with, just gifted.

Joan of Arc, Rasputin, Nostradamus -

they all heard voices, just like you.

If they were like me, how come

they weren't locked up in a mental ward?

Because you're more gifted

than they were.

Hooray for me.

I wanna see my dad.

Your dad?

Well, it's been a while, Freya, and, uh...

I don't think you're ready

for the world.

And I know the world's

not quite ready for you yet.

But, more importantly,

if you were... to leave right now,

the, uh, voices would come back.

Can't you just take it away?

Cut out some brain cells or something?

I can help you turn the corner,

help you get control of them,

but there's no cure.

And even if I could cure you, I wouldn't.

You're one of a kind.

I don't care.

I wanna go home.

Well... one challenge at a time.

It's called a cheiroscope.

Come on. Let's go.

Right now your mind is like an open tent.

Anyone could sneak in.

If we were to drop you

in a heavily populated area...

- Well, you know what would happen.

- Brookridge.

Uh-huh. Or worse. In Brookridge

you found a way to shut the tent.

- You're talking about my books.

- Right.

Books helped you focus your mind

and shut out the voices.

Now you have to learn to do the same

thing with the minds, but the key...

is to do it one mind at a time.

(Michael) All right.

It's OK. It's OK. Come on.

Let's go.

Put this on you...

OK. Your mind will only hear

what your eyes see, so look at me.

Keep them on me. Now...

All right. Blocks down.

(garbled voices)

You're hearing other voices.

Let them go.

Don't give them power.

Concentrate.

Come on. Come on, listen only

to my thoughts. Focus on my voice.

Let all the rest go.

Find the silence. Find it.

- (voices stop)

- That's it.

OK. Come back.

You're doing great.

Very good. Now let's try it again.

Circle.

Wavy lines.

Star?

Excellent.

OK, this time

I want you to close your eyes.

Close my eyes? Why?

You'll see.

(garbled voices)

So I can never close my eyes again?

Well, with practice,

there's nothing you can't do.

Your eyes select what you're gonna read.

It's called active telepathy.

- With your eyes closed, it's passive.

- You mean insanity.

No. I mean power.

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