by Sheila Jordan
1. EXT. A ROAD -- EVENING
SOUND UNDER of a woman's voice singing a German operetta.
JANET EDMUNDS (24), rides a bike down a silent road.
It's raining. Her attire is part Grunge, part Goth, and part Francaise
and has obviously been assembled at Value Village. She wears a
short skirt, multicolored tights, short jacket and tight t-shirt,
black high-cropped army boots, two wrists full of bracelets, and
many chains. She has several piercings and a few strategically
placed tattoos. Her black hair is in a French bob, a la Amelie.
The road leads to the bottom of some rickety stairs. She mounts
them, lightning flashes. A huge, eerie home looms. Janet bolts
for the door. The rain slashes down. She rings the doorbell. It
doesn't work. She waits a moment and then enters silently through
2. INT. FOYER OF THE WILSON HOME -- CONTINUOUS
She finds herself in an enormous front room. Two Victorian high-
backed chairs and tiffany lamps sit regally in front of a crackling
fire. Dead center is a giant four-poster bed with a canopy. On
the bed, asleep, under a mountainous feather duvet, lies KATHLEEN
WILSON (100). Her long white hair is spread out on the lace
pillows. A closer look reveals how frail and withered she is.
CHRIS MACDONALD (40ish), sits in one of the chairs, listening
to the operetta through his CD walkman. He looks up, startled,
and shuts off the music.
I'm sorry. The doorbell doesn't work.
Chris does not shake Janet's outstretched hand.
He heads over to a giant antique cabinet and retrieves a towel,
handing it to Janet.
Kathleen had a bad fall, there were complications, then pneumonia.
She's been unconscious for days. Just a catheter and mouth care
at this point. She's in the final stages.
Has her family been called?
I'm the closest thing to family she has. You do understand that
she could die tonight?