I suppose I should be fully immersed in the holiday spirit seeing as Christmas is only a couple of days away, but I’ve been feeling a little more rambunctious than jolly lately. Ergo, I have decided to share with you the preliminary stages of my Girl Interrupted meets Bring It On murder/cheerleader story which I’m destined to write as a screenplay and receive countless Academy Awards for. We open with voice over narration from the main character…
There’s a strange void after taking another human’s life; a couple of quiet seconds where you are at peace with your sin. There are no police officers, reporters or paramedics. It’s just you. The blood dripping from the nail file is nothing more than gravity pulling drops to a floor. Then it stops. You can never get those seconds back. Reality sneaks back in like the woosh, slap, death of a fly swatter meeting its prey. But she wasn’t a fly; her name was Sarah. And so is mine.
And the following dialogue comes from a key, character-establishing, relationship-developing scene at the mental hospital where our main character is eventually committed …
Sarah: I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before I shanked her ass, but killing a cheerleader is so cliché. Why did I have to be so unoriginal?
Dude: You know clit shares 75% of its letters with cliché.
Sarah: That doesn’t make any sense.
Dude: It doesn’t have to. Do you wanna have sex?
Sarah: Are you f’ing serious?
Dude: There’s a 99% chance that you’re thinking about sex because I said clit. I’m just trying to capitalize on that.
Sarah: I don’t think I’m emotionally stable enough to engage in that kind of activity. And you’re supposed to be my friend. Why are you trying to screw that up?
Dude: Fine, we can be “friends”.
Sarah: Thank you.
Man, this is so good it practically writes itself! Either that or I’m cray cray (I really wanted to say that).
Oh, and this original work is copyright, Jocelyn 2010. Aka: You cannot steal my creative genius! It's tempting, I know.
The End End.