Yesterday Is Today



Scene Title Yesterday Is Today
Synopsis Roy Wilkens Park. All Hallow's Eve. A goth girl gets to experience Halloween for a second time.
Date November 1, 2008

Roy Wilkens Park

Yesterday - October 31, 2008

Three teenagers sit around the park, carrying carved pumpkin stolen off of nearby porches and apartment complexes. One of them, a young man in a ghoul outfit, walks up to the basketball net, looking back at his friends with a smile, before he says, "I bet I can get it stuck up there." An aim, a throw, and the pumpkin goes flying at the basketball hoop— catches the side and breaks in half. One half slides down to get caught in the net, while the second half breaks into tiny pieces on the concrete.

The laughter resonates through the night, and the others join in. "I bet I can get the whole one stuck up there!" one says, beginning his toss. It bounces off the backboard, nearly hitting one of the others.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Um— guys— what's that?" the youngest of the group asks, a young boy in a ninja outfit, complete with shiny throwing stars and a short katana that he points in the direction of… a shoe. Just visible sticking out from behind a nearby bench.

A shoe that moves.

A groan sounds, as Gillian Childs pushes herself up, flinching in pain, blood dried on her scalp and cheeks, eye makeup smeared on her cheeks from the tears. Her clothing is tattered, torn, bloodied in places.

At the sight of her, one of the boys lets out a scream, drops his pumpkin.


Two hours later

With pieces of clothing torn from her backpack, makeshift bandages tied around her leg, upper arm, and head, Gillian limps her way to her old apartment complex. Not the best place to go, but she can't help it. Halloween. She's somehow in the past. One day exactly.

The chill of the night air makes her stop in at a store— where they take her state of disarry, her damage, as part of a costume. A few dollars worth of cash fetched from her bra buy her a rather large black duster, oversized, but warm. She ties it up, secures it, and continues toward her complex. The home that she'd abandoned. Her motorcycle hadn't been parked too close by, maybe it's safe still.

Finding it intact, unstolen, the keys in her backpack, she hops on, secures the helmet over her head, and drives off in the direction of the Bronx.


One hour later

A hotel.

Forking over somemore cash, and writing in a fake name, Gillian bunked down in a cheap hotel in the northern section of the Bronx. A shower. A change of bandages (from sheets in the hotel that she tore up, to be exact), and a bed. The bed is most important. She'd been passed out when the boys woke her up in the park, but the events of the day before— the future— left her so drained that a night's sleep became a necessity.

Siann Hall

The Present

While the street in the Bronx is being torn apart by a man who yells too loud, an Agent who splits into, and a girl who stupidly decides to get involved, the very same young woman approaches an apartment. Battered and limping, she unlocks the door, hugging the new coat around her, her bike parked a few blocks away, the tags already switched out with ones stolen off of another bike in the Bronx. Her hand shakes as she sticks the key in and opens the door.

November 1st: Die Me, Dichotomy
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