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Scene Title ULURU
Synopsis Eve experiences a vision.
Date August 15, 2018

The walls are turquoise in this room.

sing sing sing walking in a ring

Night has come, making each square window a portal to darkness beyond. No city lights, no sky, no land; nothingness.

I can't feel, mother

A half-smoked joint smolders away in an ashtray by the cracked open window, smoke filtering out to the nothingness outside.

gone gone gone

An orange bottle of pills rests on a rumpled comforter, cap off, pills hidden within the tucks and folds of the blanket.

why don't they won't they love me

A slender, pale arm hangs over the bed, fingers twitching.

mother mother daughter son

Her dark hair is tousled, messy locks hanging in front of closed eyes that flick back and forth beneath heavy lids.

so lonely

Her lips move, mouthing words without speech.

so lonely

Words without speech.

I am

The sound of a gunshot startles Eve awake, eyes wide and fingers curled into the fabric of her blankets. She swings her legs out from over the side, tugging some of the comforter with her and sending the pills scattering to the floor with a tiny clattering sound. The window rattles, a strong wind, and it blows the ashtray off of the window sill, crashing to the floor as well with metallic clank, ashes scattering and a half-finished joint bouncing end over end. A second gunshot fills the air, and Eve's heart beats rapidly in her chest. She rushes to the door, but it's locked from the outside. Left, right, left again, she twists the knob back and forth. Panic fills her, a fist slamming against wood. Gillian locked her in, she thinks, and a third gunshot is clearly coming from somewhere else in the brownstone. This time with a yelped scream.

Eve's heart leaps out of her chest, and she scrambles to the desk by the door, picking up the desk chair and smashing it against the door. Scratches, scuffs, broken wood, but nothing. A fourth gunshot, and now tears are welling up in her eyes as she hears a cry for help. Eve turns toward the window, scrambling and pawing at the glass, lifting it up to open to the street. There's nothing outside, no ground, no city, nothing but darkness that extends out in every direction for as far as the eye can see. She paws the wall outside the window, rough and cold. Another gunshot, this time closer to her room. She looks back, wide-eyed and horrified, tears streaming down her cheeks. Someone is coming to the door.

Heedless of her own safety, Eve throws a leg out of the window, sits on the window sill and swings her other leg out. As she straddles the darkness, she feels something stir in it. A presence, watching. Then, a pair of narrow golden eyes burning in the dark like fire viewed through the crack below a door.


The voice rumbles like an earthquake speaking, like the crumbling of society was given a voice and all it had to say was her name.


The voice rumbles again, and Eve's grip on the window slips, smudging red across white-painted wood. Her hands are bloody. She looks back to the gold eyes in the darkness, lips parted and jaw trembling.

Eve, what have you done?

Her face scrunches up in an expression of uncertainty, and when the sound of a gunshot fills the air again — this time from inside the room behind her — Eve snaps a look back to the bedroom. She sees herself, standing there, looming over a body sprawled out beside her bed in a growing pool of blood. Dark red hair is tangled in the spreading stain, and Eve slowly raises the smoking gun held in her hand and points it toward the window. She steps over Jolene's body.


She pulls the trigger.


She's standing by the wall, face nearly pressed up against the turquoise paint. Her pills are on the floor, ashtray scattered, joint unlit. There's no blood at her feet, and the wall — Eve leans back and looks at the smudges of black marred into the surface that take on a shape as she leans away. "Eve," the voice that had been demanding her in her dream is clearer now, not an avalanche but chicken. As Eve slowly turns from the disaster she scrawled on the wall in charcoal, she looks at a frightened Jolene, standing in the doorway of Eve's bedroom, looking at the strange drawing defaced across the blue-green paint.

"Eve…" Lene murmurs, green eyes flicking from drawing to prophet.

"…what have you done?"


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