SCARS (FIRST DRAFT)

Written by PAUL DOMANSKI (512 623)

82 Kerry Rd Parkview 082 740 9262 Domanskip.paul@gmail.com

INT. THERAPISTS ROOM - AFTERNOON A large hardwood desk sits in the center of a medium-sized therapists chambers. The curtains are three-quarters drawn allowing a beam of midday sun to bathe the desk in a single ray of light. Dr. SASHA NKOSI - a beautiful girl with brown curls and green eyes - could easily be mistaken for an intern if not for the framed certificate on her wall. Shes lost in thought, holding a photo frame and staring mournfully at its unseen inhabitant. BUZZ. Its her phone. She presses a button, allowing her receptionist to speak. LIBBY First time patient Sash... a Mr. Samuel Stone. He doesnt have an appointment but youre free till 2. Shall I send him in? Sasha lets out a small sigh. SASHA Is it urgent? LIBBY I think so... SASHA OK Libby, send him through. Sasha repositions the photo frame on her desk and smiles at it lovingly before the door OPENS. SAMUEL STONE, 24, doesnt look like the therapy type. Hes well-built, rigid and serious: the type of man who keeps his emotions tightly locked away. He stands in the doorway for a moment, almost hesitant to proceed. SASHA (CONTD) Please, take a seat Mr. Stone. He slowly walks up to the desk and sits down in the armchair. SASHA (CONTD) Im sorry... I usually get some sort of paperwork prior to seeing a patient. Whats bothering you Samuel?

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Mr. Stone clears his throat and runs his hands down his face, SIGHING deeply as he does so. MR. STONE I hate my self... I hate what Ive done. I... cant sleep anymore. Sasha retrieves her notebook from the left of her desk, leans back and lifts off the lid of her pen with a CLICK. MR. STONE (CONTD) You dont need to write anything down. I wont be back here again. She starts scribbling anyway. SASHA Dont worry, theyre for my personal use. No one will everSAMUEL (Authoritatively) Just listen. Please. Slightly taken aback - Sasha places the pen and notebook back on the desk before filling a glass with water and pushing it over to Samuel. SASHA Why do you hate yourself? Stone grips the glass with both hands and takes a long sip before responding. SAMUEL I was friends with some people I shouldnt have been friends with... CUT TO: EXT. STREET CORNER - MORNING The central Johannesburg street corner occupied by Samuel and his friends is littered with the trash of an entire rainbow nation. They pass around a single cigarette while SNAKE - a short, energetic ruffian with a few too many missing teeth - speaks loudly. SNAKE (Thick Cape Colored Accent) So Im on this guy. (MORE)

3. SNAKE (CONT'D) Im cracking him and hes like Im sorry man, Im sorry man so I tell him, I say Show me you sorry! What you got for me?

Snake gesticulates wildly as he speaks, playing out the scene as dramatically as he can. SNAKE (CONTD) So he starts emptying his pockets. Right there on the floor, crying like a baby and I says to him: Im sorry man, I dont like the cut of your jib. Next time I cut your jib off! His friends laugh uproariously. SAMUEL (Still laughing) Ah this guy! Samuel reaches out and takes the cigarette from a somewhat resistant Snake. SNAKE Ag this is bullshit man. We standing around here sharing one gwai like school kids. Come on! Lets play the game! HAZE - a tall, gaunt individual with dreadlocks and gold wire glasses without lenses interjects. SAMUEL Ay not today Snake... SNAKE Why not today? You gonna be braver tomorrow? Snake takes a matchbox out of his pocket, removes four matches and snaps them into varying lengths. Reluctantly, Samuel draws the first stick from Snakes outstretched fist. The other two follow and Snake rubs his hands together in anticipation. SNAKE (CONTD) OK gentleman! Reveal your sticks! They hold their palms open in the middle of the circle. Stones stick is the shortest and he looks away, trying unsuccessfully to mask his distress. Snake dances around like an intoxicated jester as the other two winners laugh in relief.

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SNAKE (CONTD) (Delightedly) Give him the gun Haze! Haze complies, retrieving a small black handgun from his belt and handing it to Samuel who reluctantly takes it. Samuel looks up from the gun and addresses the circle as a whole. SAMUEL (Not really wanting to know) Where? CUT TO: INT. THERAPISTS ROOM - AFTERNOON Sasha leans back in her seat, concerned. SASHA Why were you friends with these people? Samuel stares past Sasha, still lost in the memory. SAMUEL Do we ever really choose our friends? It never felt like it to me... He runs his hands down his face again. SAMUEL (CONTD) They were always around. We started playing the game because we wanted things to come easy. We didnt want to work. We were lazy and we were greedy... There was no excuse. Sasha is barely able to mask her disapproval. SASHA But youve left all of that behind now.... Right? SAMUEL (Penitently) Not in my mind... SASHA What... She pauses for a second as if gauging whether or not to ask the question.

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SASHA (CONTD) What did you do? SAMUEL Im getting there. I had to drink first. I always had to drink first. CUT TO: EXT. BACK ALLEY - DAY Samuel leans against the wall of a back alley, a balaclava in one hand and a bottle of cheap vodka in the other. He takes two solid swigs before THROWING the half-empty BOTTLE against the opposite wall. As he stumbles out of the alley he feels his jacket to make sure that the gun is still there. CUT TO: EXT. SHOPPING STREET - LATER Samuel marches along the pavement of a seemingly wealthy area, passing a variety of upmarket shops as he goes. The streets are clean and the shoppers wealthy. He reaches a pharmacy marked by a glowing green cross and dons his balaclava before lurching through the door. CUT TO: INT. PHARMACY - LATER Samuel DRAWS his gun and points it wildly at the patrons. SAMUEL (Bellowing) DONT MOVE! He storms up to the front desk and points the gun at the OLD MAN behind the counter. SAMUEL (CONTD) Money. NOW! The man glares at Samuel, staring him straight in the eyes. OLD MAN (Calmly) No. Samuel freezes for a moment. He snaps out of it and smashes his FIST against the counter.

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SAMUEL (Furious) DO YOU THINK IM PLAYING GAMES?? Ill KILL YOU! CUT TO: INT. THERAPISTS ROOM Sasha is visibly shaken and disgusted by the story. SASHA Mr. Stone, Im obligated to tell you that the doctor patient confidentiality doesnt extendSAMUEL (Brusquely) I dont care. Tell whoever you want. Just let me finish my story first. SASHA I dont know if Im comfortable with you telling me this story Mr. Stone. Crime like this... She looks to the photo frame on her desk. SASHA (CONTD) Crime like this has had an impact on my life. SAMUEL Please Ms. Nkosi. Hear me out. Sasha reluctantly leans back in her seat. SAMUEL (CONTD) Most people listen to you when you have a gun pointed at them... But not him. CUT TO: INT. PHARMACY The old man stands dead still, staring Samuel in the eyes. OLD MAN Please, just leave now. Theres nothing for you here. SAMUEL (Angry) THERE IS MONEY! GIVE IT TO ME!

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The old man doesnt budge. BANG. Samuel fires a shot to the right of the old man, SHATTERING some medicine bottles. The old man blocks his ears against the deafening blast, visibly shaken but still unwilling to comply. Stone turns towards one of the patrons, a young girl, and points the gun at her. SAMUEL (CONTD) (Furious) MONEY! OLD MAN OK... OK. The old man crouches down behind the counter. Samuel turns back towards the counter and glances around nervously while the old man works. RIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGG! An ALARM cuts through the tense silence. SAMUEL (Wrathful bellow) WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? He leans over the counter and fires three shots at the old man. Samuel stumbles back, stares numbly at the gun for a moment and sprints out of the store. CUT TO: INT. THERAPISTS CHAMBERS SASHA Im calling the authorities. You murdered an innocent man... Thats beyond justification. She reaches for the phone but Samuel forcefully places his hand on top of hers. SAMUEL (Irate) Im not looking for justification. He removes his hand from hers.

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SAMUEL (CONTD) (Calmer) Let me finish and I swear Ill let you call whoever you want. SASHA (Shakily) I dont understand what you want from me... SAMUEL You will. He stands up and begins pacing. SAMUEL (CONTD) I never wanted to kill anyone... CUT TO: EXT. PARK - LATE AFTERNOON Samuel runs through an empty park. Its late afternoon and the sun baptizes the pale grass in a golden hue. Exhausted, he collapses against a tree and removes his balaclava. Tears streak his face and his BREATHING is laboured. He takes the gun out of his jacket, raises it to his temple and holds it there shakily. He squeezes down on the trigger but just cant force himself to pull it. Throwing the gun down in frustration, he runs his hands through his hair. CUT TO: INT. THERAPISTS CHAMBERS SAMUEL Why could I pull the trigger on an innocent man but not on my self? Do you know why? Sasha cant bear to look him in the eyes so she glances away before speaking. SASHA I... Dont. She forces herself to look Samuel in the eyes.

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SASHA (CONTD) My father was murdered... Ive spent the last three years trying to see through the eyes of a killer but I still cant understand. He was a helpless old man... SAMUEL I know. Sasha freezes. SASHA (Whisper) What do you mean? Samuel reaches into his jacket and retrieves a newspaper clipping detailing a robbery that resulted in the death of an old pharmacist. He pushes it across the table to Sasha. FLASH: The hand of a young girl clutching the hand of an old man while the SIREN of an ambulance whines. SAMUEL 15 August 2009. FLASH: Sasha examines her bloody hands in the back of the ambulance, tears streaming down her face. SASHA (A helpless whisper) You.. Son of a bitch. FLASH: The sheet is pulled over the old mans face as Sasha weeps. SASHA (CONTD) YOU SON OF A BITCH! Sasha reaches for the drawer in her desk as if to retrieve something but decides against it and picks up the phone instead. Samuel doesnt try to stop her this time. SASHA (CONTD) Libby... I need you to call the police. Immediately. She hangs up before her receptionist can respond. Sasha is weeping now. SASHA (CONTD) He was an old man... How could you? SAMUEL I dont know.

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Sasha SLAMS her hands down on the desk. SASHA THATS NOT GOOD ENOUGH! Samuel stares down blankly at the desk. SAMUEL These last three years have been worse than all of those cold and hungry ones... Every time I close my eyes I see him standing there, refusing to obey. Whenever theres silence, that alarm rings through my head... Why didnt he just give me the money? Sasha leans forward and lashes out her words. SASHA How DARE you blame him? Youre a criminal.. A murderer. Theres no one else to blame. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. OFFICER (Thick Afrikaans accent) Ms. Nkosi, this is officer Prinsloo. Please open the door. Sasha quickly retrieves a tissue and wipes the remaining tears from her eyes. She stands up, goes to the door and opens it slightly. OFFICER PRINSLOO Maam we were called about a potentially dangerous patient. May we enter? Sasha glances back at Samuel. SASHA No... That wont be necessary. I misjudged a patient. He isnt dangerous. OFFICER PRINSLOO You do recognize the seriousness of calling in a false alarm? SASHA Yes officer. Im very sorry.

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OFFICER PRINSLOO OK then Ms. Nkosi. Well overlook it this time. Have a good afternoon. SASHA You too officer. She shuts the door and slowly walks back around her desk and sits down. SAMUEL What are you doing? Sasha stares at the photo frame. SASHA Maybe... Your guilt has been punishment enough. Stone leans forward. SAMUEL NO! Please... I came here to be judged. Not forgiven... Sasha reaches for the drawer on the left of her desk. This time she pulls it open. She stares down into it as Samuel speaks. SAMUEL (CONTD) (Desperate) I KILLED your father. I shot him. Three times. In the neck, in the head, in theSasha raises a small silver pistol from the drawer and points is straight at Samuel. He nods. SAMUEL (CONTD) I see. BANG. CUT TO BLACK.