Alrighty, This is a short script, written for my creative writing class. That said, I've gone through and made some very tiny adjustments to it since it was first posted. There likely won't be a second chapter to this and the concept, if continued would be in my usual writing format instead of script. Also, there are several Easter eggs hidden in here, both concept wise and in specific wording. I'd love it if you dropped a PM/review concerning them. It's interesting to see if people catch them.



Scene one:

(Celia is sitting at a simple desk with books all around her. She is staring down at a single lined piece of notebook paper.)

Celia: (conflicted.) What in the world was he thinking? Writing me now? I don't have time for that sort of thing... Not with exams around the corner. ( long pause,) But... He seems to have matured a bit, even admitting he messed up I suppose. In his own convoluted way...

(An alarm goes off from among the piles of books, Celia jumps before reaching down and smacking something several times. The irritating noise stops.)

Celia: (Annoyed.) Blasted piece of junk! Won't freaking shut up with just one smack, noo... I takes at least four! Stupid masochistic machine!

(glancing down at something among the books she sighs.)

Celia: He can wait until tomorrow, If I don't get at least some sleep I'm likely to trip up the stairs again... Multiple times to boot.

(standing from her desk she goes to her bed across the small room and crawls in. After tossing and turning a bit she settles into sleep.)


Scene two:

(Celia is standing alone in a an empty space.)

Celia (confused.) Hello? Anybody home?

(she is silent for a time, looking around and processing her surroundings. She does not notice or even seem to see Alice who is standing off to the side only about seven to ten feet away.)

Celia: Wherever this is, it's deadly dull. And since it's not completely dark I should be able to at least see the walls of this place.

(she looks around again, squinting.)

Celia: Nope, no walls anywhere. Maybe I'm dreaming?

(she pinches herself, but seems not to feel anything.)

Celia: No pain... So I really am dreaming... Huh.

(she sighs, closing her eyes and tilting her head down wards. then lifting her head up she giggles.)

Celia: (rambling.) If this is a dream of mine I must be either incredibly boring, an utterly brilliant genius that might actually understand why one might dream of boring, empty, endless and slightly chilly places or some kind of fricked up nutcase...

Alice: Or, perhaps you are both none and all of those things at once.

(Celia starts when Alice first speaks, finally noticing the other.)

Celia: When did you get here? I should have at least heard you! But no! you just pop out of nowhere... Don't scare a person so!

Alice: I've been here the whole time darlin', You just didn't notice me before.

Celia: (off balance.) Oh. So why are you here if I'm dreaming...?

Alice: You know there are just soo many answers to such a question... Am I here to endlessly annoy you in your own dream as a figment of your imagination or am I simply dreaming my self? Maybe you'd like to know if we have ever meet before and that's why I'm here, or if I am merely a part of your subconscious? Or there is always the possibility of me being some sort of sadistic omniscient being from another dimension perhaps?

Celia:(lost.) Wait.. what?

Alice: Pick and choose any Dearie, they could all apply.

Celia:(baffled.) Just.. Nevermind. What now?

Alice:(cheerfully.) Now? Well, now I show you the ghost of a romantic bullet dodged.

Celia: Kiel O'Connor?

Alice: Oh not him! That poor wee lad was merely awkward, in fact he has probaly grown out of that anyway. He might be quite a catch actually. Good thing you never had to turn the laddie down! He might still be fond of you, little miss bombshell!

Celia: Bombshell? I have bags under my eyes and my hair is as frizzy as all getout. I am by no means a "bombshell" Anyway, who then? I may have dated Harland but he was hardly a romantic bullet...

Alice: Oh, him indeed. Little missy you haven't the faintest notion of the grenade he was and is.

Celia: How so?

Alice: You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

(Alice turns away, hands occupied, before turning back holding a wide shallow bowl.)

Celia: Oh? Then why all the insulting and dramatics?

Alice: firstly, because I happen to enjoy throwing both insults and dramatics. Second, because I am going to show you.

Celia: Don't tell me that you're going to have us get sucked into that bowl... I'm quite sure this isn't the 'Wonderful World of Harry Potter'...

Alice: Of course not! do I look like the type to go haring off on mad adventures in tiny flat bowls when I could just push you in alone?!

Celia: Of course... Let me rephrase part of that.

Alice: No.


Alice: Besides, thats not how it works. Just look.

(she pours the contents of the bowl out on to the 'ground', gesturing with her hand for Celia to look)

Celia: It's just a puddle of unidentifiable liquid. What exactly am I supposed looking at?

Alice: Mr. Grenade.


Scene three:

(Harland is dressed in dirty clothes, with a scruffy beard and short greasy hair, he is standing about four feet from Celia.)

Harland: (angrily.) Celia! How could you! Bringing another guy into the house while my child is here! I come to visit the brat and who answers the door? Some stuck up Saudi dressed in a bathrobe! I should just take the girl away and let you rot with him!

(Celia looks terrified for a moment when he mentions taking her daughter before she stiffens and bites back, protective fury emerging.)

Celia: Go away! You gave up any custody of her when she was born! You. Gave. Her. Up. Deal with it! Let the rest of us be and go back to your bar buddies!

( Harland approaches threateningly until he is towering over Celia.)

Harland: Go away? No, I'm here to give you a piece of my mind you little whore. You told me that I should leave, You just wanted to find some man to pay your way. How do you think I feel about my daughter under the same roof where her mother is getting banged by some ignorant foreigner!

(Celia's jaw drops with shock and outrage. She seems to shrink away from him. Harland leans down until his mouth if next to her ear as she stands frozen.)

Harland: (darkly, smoothly.) Tell me, Blind Girl, Tell me the truth. Can he make you see like I did? Has he Shown you a world like I did?

Celia: (stuttering.) G-go awa-ay...

Harland: Make me.

(Harland reaches for her wrist.)

Celia: (snapping out of her shock.) Leave me alone!

(Celia runs back into her house and locks the door.)

Harland: You can't hide forever Blind Girl!

(Harland turns and hurries away.)


Scene four:

(Alice is looking at Celia as Celia regains her bearings back in the strange wall less place.)

Alice: Now do you see?

Celia: (shaken.) Was that what would have happened if we had stayed together?

Alice: Most likely, yes.

Celia: Why? Why show me?

Alice: To warn you. You understand, that as at least one or more of the things that apply to me I have to for my own conscience.

Celia: Then why show me? You could have just told me to stay away from him...

Alice: Would you have listened or just do it out of spite?

Celia: I'm not sure...

Alice: I thought so. Either way, it's time you woke up.

Celia: Will you be taking over my dreams from now on?

Alice: No, But we might pass each other. Wake up now, Mirror.


Scene five:

(Celia rolls out of bed, proceeding to gather her clothes to shower, on her way out she sweeps the sheet of notebook paper into the trash.)

Celia: Why did she call me 'Mirror'?