Electorate 100
Contains: a lot of imaginary blood; implied suicidal ideation.
SCENE: Lauren's house, night.
Earlier that night, Joshua and Lauren were walking through the park, towards her house.
Lauren: "The other night I was in bed and I could hear it. The brave one."
Now, Lauren is home, walking up the stairs, in the dark, to her bedroom.
Lauren: "Dragging itself across the floor. It does that every night."
She enters her room and closes the door behind her. A pair of scissors, a packet of pills, and an empty glass are on her bedside table. Blood is dripping down the walls and pooling on the floor.
Lauren: "But the other night it made it to the bed, and pulled itself up, and I could feel it."
She crawls onto her bed and sits in the middle, arms wrapped around her knees. Her doona cover is smeared with blood, and in the corner, by her wardrobe, there are corpses, huddled together, backs to her. She can just make out their shapes in the dim light from the streetlights outside. They are clawing feebly at the wall.
Lauren: "I could feel the blankets being pulled and the weight of it and its breath on my face."
Joshua: "Jesus, Lauren."
Slowly, hands shaking, Lauren reaches for the pills.
Joshua: "That's terrifying."
Lauren: "It is."
She places the packet at her feet, and stares.
Lauren: "I try to get used to it. Doesn't really work."
Joshua: "You shouldn't have to."
Lauren: "No."
Daylight streams through her window. She hasn't moved.
This entry is also posted here.
SCENE: Lauren's house, night.
Earlier that night, Joshua and Lauren were walking through the park, towards her house.
Lauren: "The other night I was in bed and I could hear it. The brave one."
Now, Lauren is home, walking up the stairs, in the dark, to her bedroom.
Lauren: "Dragging itself across the floor. It does that every night."
She enters her room and closes the door behind her. A pair of scissors, a packet of pills, and an empty glass are on her bedside table. Blood is dripping down the walls and pooling on the floor.
Lauren: "But the other night it made it to the bed, and pulled itself up, and I could feel it."
She crawls onto her bed and sits in the middle, arms wrapped around her knees. Her doona cover is smeared with blood, and in the corner, by her wardrobe, there are corpses, huddled together, backs to her. She can just make out their shapes in the dim light from the streetlights outside. They are clawing feebly at the wall.
Lauren: "I could feel the blankets being pulled and the weight of it and its breath on my face."
Joshua: "Jesus, Lauren."
Slowly, hands shaking, Lauren reaches for the pills.
Joshua: "That's terrifying."
Lauren: "It is."
She places the packet at her feet, and stares.
Lauren: "I try to get used to it. Doesn't really work."
Joshua: "You shouldn't have to."
Lauren: "No."
Daylight streams through her window. She hasn't moved.
This entry is also posted here.