A WAKELESS SLUMBER

Written by /u/sleepingjoey

Based on Write off. Write now.

FADE IN: INT. BEDROOM - DAY A fan spins at full-speed, its chain hitting against its glass light fixture every 2 seconds from the violent motion, TINK...TINK. MATTHEW, 40s, sits on an well-made bed and holds his head in his hands. He wears a stained, white tanktop and boxer shorts. We hear him sobbing to a phone call. MOTHER (V.O.) I love you, dear, no matter what. Your fathers told me youre going to graduate with high honors! Not bad for a boy raised in the styx of Louisiana, I say! Oh, Matty, did I tell you your cousin Stephanie is here? Shes taking such good care of me! She says its time for me to go. Oh, Matty, I dont want to go! MATTHEW Mom, just... just listen to your nurse, okay? Ill call you tomorrow. MOTHER (V.O.) Oh, my, Stephanies a nurse! Good for you, Stephanie! Matty, Ill see you when you get home from school. You need to study hard if you want to be a writer someday! I hope you liked those caramel apples I packed you! He pulls the phone away and wipes his tears on his sleeve. He puts the phone back up to his ear. MATTHEW I loved them, mom. Goodbye. NURSE (V.O.) Wait! Mr. Kliner? Yes? MATTHEW

NURSE (V.O.) I know this is a bit... rude, but we do need your payments some time. Matthew remains still. He stares up at the fan.

2. NURSE (V.O.) Im going to have to cut back on her privileges. Phone, visits. Eventually we cant keep caring for her if shes not being backed by someone. MATTHEW I understand. He clicks the phone off and THROWS it against the wall. It dents the drywall with its impact. Matthew lets his head fall into his hands again. He throws his body back and lies down on the mattress. Something crumples beneath him and leans to one side, reaches underneath his back, and produces a newspaper. He looks at it in the light: its the CLASSIFIEDS section. Several listings are crossed out with a red pen, along with several NOs written over them. He rolls it into a ball and hurls it at his phone. He opens a night stand drawer and pulls out a REVOLVER. MATTHEW (CONTD) Warble, child; make passionate my gazebo of hearing! He pulls the hammer back and the chamber spins, readying one of the rounds. He firmly presses the barrel to his skull. MATTHEW (CONTD) Sing me to sleep. CLICK. The trigger is pulled back but nothing happens save for the chamber spinning to load a new round. He removes the pistol from its firing position and inspects it in front of him, moving it around his hands like a prized possession. MATTHEW (CONTD) To sleep. Perchance to dream. He opens up the chamber to reveal one round occupying a cylinder. He reaches back into the night stand drawer to take out more rounds. He places them in the chamber, slowly and methodically - tracing the end of each as they go in. Finally all but one are filled. He closes the chamber and spins it. Once more he raises it to his temple and pushes it firmly against his skull. MATTHEW (CONTD) Ay, theres the rub.

3. He cocks the hammer back for a second time and pulls the trigger. CLICK. A beat. VRRM. His phone is ringing. He gets off the bed and drops the revolver when he stands. He bends down and looks at the number: WILLIAMS BOOKS. He answers. Hello? MATTHEW (CONTD)

CLERK (V.O.) Yes, is this Matthew? You came by for an interview the other week? FADE TO BLACK.