INT. SMALL BEDROOM
The digital clock on the nightstand flips from 3:59 to 4:00 AM. Damon is lying on the bed on his side, and his eyes slowly flutter open. He stares at the clock for a moment, then rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling.
Four o'clock. It was four o'clock in
the morning and I was still at this
girl Sophie's house. What the hell?
After a moment, he sits up slowly and stretches, then throws his legs over the side of the bed and looks around.
The earlier events of the evening were
starting to come back to me. As much as
I didn't want to remember them, it looked
like I had anyway.
FLASHBACK OF SOPHIE AND DAMON IN THE LIVING ROOM
Wait! It's freezing out there. Why don't
you just stay a while?
(as if hung-over)
He stands slowly and heads over to the door, still half asleep. Opening the door, he heads out into the hallway and then stops as he hears a distant sound. It is the TV from the living room. Peering down into the room below, he sees Sophie's sleeping figure curled into a ball under the blanket on the couch.
Damon turns back and opens a door. He steps into the room, then immediately takes a step back as he realizes it is not a bathroom but another bedroom.
It was Sophie's room. Consequently it
was the last place in the world I wanted
to be, but even as I thought about heading
back to bed, something was making me stay.
This was the master bedroom of the house.
And master bedrooms all had one thing in
It was nice to know that Sophie's kindness
hadn't rubbed off on me. At all.
Damon closes the door softly behind him and starts pacing around the room slowly, searching. He stops and stares at the nightstand. A small ring sits beneath the lamp, its diamond glinting. Immediately he picks it up and examines it.
Hmm...Nice...It's gotta be worth...
He trails off in thought and then quickly pockets the ring. Then he pulls open the bottom drawer of the nightstand and searches through a pile of papers.
Come on, doesn't this girl have any
He pulls out a small book and puts it aside, then, thinking twice, picks it up again. He examines it through furrowed eyebrows, then opens it.
After a pause, he quickly closes it.
This girl was weird enough. I didn't
need to know the details of what
was going on in her head.
A long pause goes by. Damon continues to stare at the book. Finally he reaches for it, unable to resist.
(under his breath)
I'm stuck here all night. Might as
well have fun.
He starts reading.
FLASHBACK – SOPHIE'S KITCHEN, TWO YEARS PRIOR – DAY
Sophie pours herself a cup of coffee. She hears something and turns.
Enter MICHAEL BRENTWORTH, Sophie's husband. He wears a collared button-up shirt, black pants, and carries a briefcase.
Immediately Sophie pushes the coffee mug back and runs to him squealing. She jumps into his arms and they twirl several times.
Are you gonna have a good day at work?
I'm going to hope that I will.
I hope so too.
They stop twirling and stare into each other's eyes. Michael puts her down and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. They stare more, a smile beginning to form on Sophie's lips.
INT. CAR – NIGHT
Michael drives in silence, the windshield wipers flying. Sophie grips the door handle and the arm rest, staring out the windshield at the falling snow.
Slow down Michael.
Honey it's okay.
You're going too fast!
I am not going too fast. This car
can handle it.
He is looking at her.
You're not watching the road.
When there's snow on the ground, you're
supposed to slow down. Don't you know
I do know that. Would you like to
switch so you can show me how it's
You don't have to be so mean!
I'm not being mean! Just chill out!
Don't tell me to chill out!
There is a pause as Michael collects himself.
Sophie, I love you. Do not be
angry at me.
She looks at him suddenly, as if surprised.
I love you too. I'm sorry.
There is silence except for the hum of the car and the sound of the windshield wipers. Sophie turns and looks out the passenger window.
CEMETARY – DAY
Sophie stands in the falling snow. She stares down at a tombstone. The entire face of the tombstone is covered in a thick layer of snow. She presses a gloved hand into the top of the stone and covers her face with her other hand, shaking.
I don't remember. I don't remember.
One second you're there, the next
you're gone. It doesn't make any sense!
She lowers her hand so both are touching the top of the tombstone.
I'm so confused. So confused. I don't
know how this happened. Why are you
gone? Where are you?
Her face is red from the cold and she begins to cry.
They told me about an accident. I
don't remember any accident though.
Michael, is someone lying to me?
Are you really gone? Really gone?
She stands there for a very long moment in the silent snow.
INT. SMALL OFFICE – DAY
Sophie is sitting in a chair, her eyes red from crying. She faces the camera directly.
Doctor, where is my husband?
I have told you this before Sophie.
Your husband has passed away.
But how? When?
It was a month ago, just before
Thanksgiving. In a car accident.
You were in the car too Sophie. You
were riding in the passenger seat.
Michael was driving too fast and
slid on some ice. The car hit a tree.
Michael was killed and you were not.
I don't remember this. Why don't I
She is beginning to panic. There is a shuffling of papers as the doctor organizes his desk.
That we have discussed as well. You
hit your head very hard. Sophie, sometimes
you forget things. You have met me many
times before, but every time I have to
introduce myself again. You might forget
your mother or your sister's faces.
Sophie's hands go to her mouth and she begins to sob quietly.
You might forget what day of the week it
is, what you had for lunch the day before.
You might go to sleep and forget what
happened that day. You might leave
something in the oven. There is much
damage to your brain.
She cries harder and then, when she catches her breath, she looks at him, dreading.
Is there...is there a cure?
The doctor sighs.
Unfortunately, the harm to your memory
What does that mean???
I'm a doctor Sophie. I try to fix things
as best I can. But I'm not a magician. I
just can't do it.
There is a very long pause.
I'm never going to see Michael again, am I?
No Sophie. I'm sorry. You're not.
INT. SOPHIE'S BEDROOM, PRESENT DAY – NIGHT
Damon sits on the edge of the bed reading. He lowers the journal and stares at the clock on the nightstand. It is almost half past four.
(under his breath)
This is crazy. That girl Sophie...I
knew something was up with her. I
knew something wasn't quite right.
Damon puts the journal back on the nightstand.
I guess now I'm supposed to feel
sorry for her. I guess this is the
part of the story where I decide to
stay and console her, wipe her tears
away and make everything better.
There is a very long pause where he stares at the floor, gritting his teeth in increasing frustration.
The fuck I am! I don't owe shit to
her! I got out of jail by myself, and I
can stay out by myself!
He starts pacing the room, his eyes darting around as he debates his next move.
Though I was no doctor, it seemed
she had a nasty case of amnesia. I
wondered if she would remember my
face if she couldn't even remember
her own mother.
Damon stops in the center of the room. It is as if his mind has been made up.
I've never killed a woman before.
There is a very long pause as his eyes dart around more.
Just poor little Jesse. That wasn't
a big deal. But this...
He trails off and fantasizes for a moment. Then he walks over to the door and slips out into the hallway. Sophie is still asleep on the couch, unmoved. She looks almost like a teenager who has fallen asleep watching a marathon of horror movies, or a babysitter waiting for the parents to come home. Completely vulnerable.
He stands at the foot of the couch looking down at her, and reaches into his pocket for reassurance.
Now the real question is, will she
The first few seconds would be crucial.
If she didn't recognize me, I would
have to kill her. What else could I do?
I had to finish this somehow.
Damon leaves one hand in his pocket and, reaching out with the other, jostles her by the shoulder. She stirs for a moment and then finally sits up slightly, wiping sleep from her eyes.
Good morning sunshine. It's Christmas.
She looks at him and he looks back, searching for clues. Then he sees it. Fear. He grins.
Got any clue who I am?
Her pupils are dilated and her hands begin shaking. She shifts on the couch.
How...how did you get in here?
Front door's unlocked.
She begins to stammer, looking up at him, her entire body shaking. He takes a small step forward and she gets to her knees. Quickly she slips off the end of the couch and backs up into the kitchen doorway.
Aw come on, don't run!
Get away from me. Get out of my house!
He takes one step forward for every step back she takes. Soon they are crossing the kitchen very slowly.
Maybe you shouldn't have let me in.
I don't know what you're talking about,
you sick freak!
He smiles, his eyebrows going up. He continues moving.
That's not a very nice thing to call
Just leave! Get out before I call
The only way you're going to call
the cops is if I let you.
He stops walking and slips the knife out of his pocket, then flicks it open to reveal a long menacing blade. She freezes and stares at the blade. Sophie is finally rendered unable to move.
Damon paces back and forth in front of her. It is almost as if he too is unsure of what to do first.
You know I killed someone? It was
a couple months ago. I'm due for
Sophie watches the blade, not moving a muscle.
Sometimes I've thought about going
serial. What do you think of that?
She is completely clueless as to what to do. It is clear to him she is not going to try to get away.
What's wrong? Scared?
Please just let me go. I'm not
going to tell anyone you were
No, of course you won't.
I swear. I swear I won't.
He takes two more steps toward her. Something in his facial features changes. It is a sudden, deep anger. The blade rises, shaking, and points directly at her heart. Sophie stares back at him in complete mortification.
BRIEF FLASHBACK –
Jesse stands facing Damon in the dark kitchen.
Friends cut each other slack sometimes
A loud gunshot and a thud. Damon stares down at Jesse's sprawled legs.
END BRIEF FLASHBACK –
In Sophie's kitchen, Damon now stands three feet from Sophie, whose back is to the wall. He twirls the knife in his hand thoughtfully.
All I could think of was how good
it would feel to shove that knife
straight through her heart. And why
not? I hated it when people tried to
be overly nice to me. It was like
an insult. Like I couldn't make it
without their charity.
Sophie starts to breathe more heavily as if she is about to undergo a panic attack. Damon runs a thumb over the blade.
You hate knives, don't you?
He begins to laugh at his own joke.
Even as I stood there sizing her
up, trying to pick the best place
to strike, I thought of something.
If I killed her, I would have to run
from the threat of another sentence.
If I let her go, I'd run, get caught,
and go back for more because of my
What the fuck difference does it
make? You got an opinion? You got
anything to live for, huh?
And then she surprised me. The
last thing in the world I expected
was a response to that question.
Sophie slowly shakes her head. Her eyes are welling with tears as if she's already realized it's over. Damon stares back at her in shock.
You want to die?
There is a long pause.
Well drop me a clue here. Where do
you want it?
She does not answer. She only looks down at the blade.
I asked you a question. Where do
you want it?
There is another long pause.
You weren't going to let me go,
Damon stares at her for a very long moment. She meets his gaze evenly, but she is gradually turning from fear to acceptance.
Just do it then.
Even after my years of crime, my
shoplifting, my robberies and
drug deals, my fights, weapons,
and the time I shot Jesse, I
looked this girl in the eyes and
suddenly realized something.
I don't want to kill you.
Sophie squeezes her eyes shut as if she knows this statement is only delaying the inevitable.
I didn't want to kill Jesse either.
I have no reason to kill you. Except,
you want it, don't you?
(stuttering in uncertainty)
Don't be afraid. It'll only hurt for
How do you know that?
I just do. You sure you want this?
I'm going back to jail anyway.
Just do it. Please.
She squeezes her eyes shut, preparing already. He looks down at the knife and then back at her. Then he raises the knife.
Sophie and Damon's feet. Sophie moans loudly and stumbles backward a little bit but he holds her up. Then there is a clatter as a blood-covered pocketknife falls to the floor.
Damon sets out on foot again, this time not bothering to run. The snow has stopped but it is still unbearably frigid. Turning himself in to the first cop car that comes by suddenly seems like a good idea.
For the first time, I doubted myself.
I doubted myself in committing a
crime. I had murdered once before but
it had been so easy then. This time
I thought it would be too. I never
thought I would have killed her because
she would want it. I never realized,
that from reading her journal, that
Sophie could have ever been so miserable
and lonely. I couldn't tell when she
opened the door after I knocked, and
even though I knew something was weird
about her, I never thought someone as
kind as herself would want to die.
Damon looks up suddenly and stops walking. He sees headlights but instead of hiding, he stays right where he is. The car comes closer and closer and he stands, fists hanging at his side, waiting.