Scene Title Unwell
Synopsis I'm not crazy…
Date June 16, 2019

Bay Ridge Dirk & Isis's Apartment

Sharp light cut into thin daggers by plain, white blinds glides across a gray carpet and ripples up over the surface of a black, tousled duvet. The slice of illumination drifts further still, brightened by a paler surface - flesh,alabaster and lightly freckles. Hazel eyes don’t seem to even register the light but for a shrinking of the pupils that suggest Isis is, despite all other appearances, not dead.

All day staring at the ceiling

Making friends with shadows on my wall

The light finishes its pass across the room - the moving source outside having passed the apartment building and carried on down the road - leaving a murky darkness…

All night hearing voices telling me

That I should get some sleep

Because tomorrow might be good for something



Hold on


Isis pops up like a freshly risen corpse, a hand braced low on her throat as a weezed, stricken gasp is ushered hungrily, desperately passed her pallid lips. The breaths that follow are gasped, hurried, and desperate. She fumbles for the touch-lamp on the nightstand, the ferocity of her touch setting it rocking precariously.

Feeling like I'm headed for a


And I don't know why

Bare feet make it over the edge of the bed and to the rug. The timid, hazy light from the lamp only exaggerates a darkness under her eyes. The hand at her chest becomes more a claw. Her plain, short nails leave pink, tiny mountain ranges in their wake, as she gasps for her next breath.

The effort of it pinches her face- every contour of youth and happiness replaced with sharp angles of helplessness and cringed wrinkles of pain.

But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell

I know right now you can't tell

Now there are tears flooding her hazel eyes. The tiny bubble clings desperately to the edge of her dark lower lashes, quivering with the shiver that has leached it way into her - taken control over every inch.

The following breath comes a little easier. Less a wheeze, and more a hiss.

Then another.

But the tears fall anyway…

But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see

A different side of me

The tiny, crystalline drop hits her bare thigh and shatters.

She snaps.

FUUUUCK!” Her cry is hollow, deep - ripped out from somewhere in her core so that it’s more a gutteral, pained bellow.

I know right now you don't care

But soon enough you're gonna think of me

She reaches out, the vicious cry having suddenly given her control again, and grabs the nearest thing - the small touch lamp. It doesn’t survive the vicious CRASH against the opposite wall, but explodes brilliantly.

The sudden flare of light illuminates her tear-stained, animalistic snarl before the room is thrown once more into darkness.

And how I used to be… me…

Leaving just her, the darkness, and the strained sobs…

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