“HIDDEN IN THE MIND”
TREATMENT OF AN ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
Los Angeles area in a somewhat middle-class contemporary neighborhood.
The dead of night spirals in as we come upon an apartment high-rise. The camera carries us up and over the balcony bringing us into the bedroom of our victim. Darkness and shadows are one. There is no color to see, only gray and darker gray, making the contrast of the white form that is sprawled across the bed stark and ghost?like. The crash of the plant by the front door rolls through the apartment like a thunderclap.
Startled awake and not knowing why, he tries to listen over his beating heart – is that a noise from the living room? As he is looking down on the floor for his slippers, a large, dark human form leaps through his bedroom doorway and bowls into him, knocking him back onto the bed. Their momentum rolls them across the bed to fall heavily onto the floor. In a panic, he fights. He fights for his life. He knows that if he does not get away, he is a dead man. He knows this. After what seems a lengthy struggle, he manages to break free.
That is all that he can think of — the blind instincts of a hunted animal filled with fear. It fills and courses through him. He runs for the door and out, feeling that his attacker is behind him. He feels it in the cold, dead spot between his shoulder blades.
His feet pound down the hall in time to his pounding heart — take the stairs! Just as he reaches the door, a steel grip clamps down upon his shoulder sending fresh jolts of fear sparking throughout his body. His heart stops just short of exploding.
They struggle in the stairwell and with renewed strength, he frees himself. But, the attacker is now below him, his exit blocked. His only other escape is up.
His mind focuses on only that ? climb! His breath comes hard and burns in his throat as he bursts through the door to the rooftop sundeck.
Which way? Where to hide?
He turns at the echoing sound of running, a hopeless sob escaping from him — there is no where to go. He looks around and grabs one of the plastic chairs as a feeble weapon ? his attacker will be here in seconds.
He stands behind the door, the chair held high, his face twisted by his fear and desperation. The door smashes open with such force that he is crushed against the wall, his head swimming from the blow. As he is dragged bodily across the sundeck, his head clears and the blackness fades from his eyes. He finds himself staring into the eyes of death.
He knows that he is dead.
He feels cold metal behind him and turns his head to see the railing. He cannot help but to look further over the side and there he sees the parking lot far below. The shadows play sinisterly over the cars with the protecting chainlink fence and its coils of sharp razor wire. Just as this registers on his fogged mind, he suddenly feels as if he is weightless. He looks back into the face of death and realizes that he is falling.
Plunging to his death into the chain link fence and its razor wire. The force of his fall snaps the top support bar, the chain link absorbing the impact.
We slowly PULL BACK. Looking down upon his twisted body, we see the chain link and razor wire have cut and slashed him. In many places the razor wire is imbedded into his flesh. The fencing has acted cruelly, it has allowed him to live a little longer but, death will be slow, painful and certain. The night is silent except for the faint whimpering that manage to escape from between his bloodied lips. We FADE OUT.
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