Dude 1 kicks open the door. He starts firing. Dude 2 falls. A mist of red puff spurts from his chest. He's screaming
Screams echo a deafening ring. Calloused hands press thick pulsing liquid further into the fabric. Something about the feel of his wet shirt pressing against raw skin, the absence of life staining a pristine shirt, made the stars in the back of his eyes dance. The life exiting the hole in Dude 1’s stomach stains The Boy’s Nikes, leaving a thick layer of crimson on the soles of his feet
Dude 1 aims the gun at The Boy. Dude 1 says something, nothing is heard over the ringing. The Boy would like to think that he said something meaningful, but he knows better. The Boy closes his eyes. This isn’t the way he wanted to go, but he is at peace with it
He never did find out what Roscoe’s Wetsuit meant. Maybe it was better that way
The Boy feels cold
The Boy opens his eyes. The room is now empty, blood gone. The Boy walks outside. The branches create rays of sunshine that cut him like blades. The Boy kicks off his shoes into the pool, left shoe falls into the pool while the right one falls short. The Boy then walks to the pool. He sits down, feet dipping in the pool. Naomi sits next to him, holding his hand
So… This is what you wanted?
I thought so...
I wanted to feel something
I just don’t feel anything anymore. I’m… callous. I guess. I just feel like… it’s all meaningless. I’m meaningless. What’s my point? I don’t know
Why do you think that is?
I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know… Why am I here? Why am I alive? Why do you care?
I always knew who you were. And you always knew who you were
Naomi opens her left hand. A gold molar is in her palm. The Boy’s reflection is shown in the shiny metal
This is who you were. This was your life. It’s expensive, it’s shiny, it’s seems to be worth a lot. But no matter what… it’ll never be the real thing
Naomi drops the molar into The Boys hand. The Boy looks at it
I don’t want this
He let’s the tooth drop out of his hand. It sinks down to the bottom of the pool, where it stays
You’re allowed to be better. You’re allowed to grow up. If you want
Just get off the bus…
But you’re here now…
Naomi begins to stand up
You have to help me…
Naomi begins to walk away
I need you. You have to help me…
Naomi continues to walk away. Ignoring The Boy
You have to help me…
Naomi doesn’t acknowledge The Boy. She just keeps walking away slowly
You have to help me. Please help me. Please help me. Please
Naomi stops walking. The Boy starts to sink down into the pool
Please help me
She turns around and looks back to him. He continues to sink. His eyes stay open as he begins to float
Eyes slowly open. Darkness begins to become light. A faint voice is beginning to get louder and louder. The blindness becomes clearer and clearer. A figure begins to manifest itself. A Doctor with a thick Australian accent comes into view. Looking down on a clipboard
Ah, yes you’re awake. Good morning Mister-
W- Where Am I?
The hospital. Do you know where you are right now? Do you have any memory of what happened?
The Boy tries to remember what happened to him, but he seems to be struggling
Yeah… I… I remember going up to my hotel room… and… feeling tired… and taking some pills to sleep...
Yes. Your brother, Fam is it? Found you incapacitated. You were unresponsive for quite sometime. We found a lot of pills in your system. Along with some alcohol. Mr. Glover, were you trying to hurt yourself? We here have a fantastic Psychological staff that can help you with any trouble you might be feeling
No… that’s fine. I just want to go home
Please. I just want to go home
Donald and Fam are walking out of the hospital. A shot of Donald’s bracelet is shown. Donald then bites off his bracelet and throws it in the trash
Bro, are you okay? You scared me back there…
Yeah, I’m fi- (stops) I’m okay
Well… okay. Our flight leaves around 8. We should be in LA by tomorrow. Anything you wanna do when we get home?
(thinks) Yeah… I wanna rent a house
Oh… okay. Something wrong with the crib?
No… I just want to get away for a little. Just have some people I trust around me
Any place in particular? New York, Atlanta, Oakland, Atlanta, LA?
Why the Palisades?
I don’t know… I just feel… connected there. I can’t explain it to you yet…
Oh and fam… I know what I want to do with the album now…
Bec a use the i n ter net
*******[PLAY SONG “LIFE: THE BIGGEST TROLL” AT THIS POINT]*******
Letter from the author: I know that this isn't 300 words. It was really hard to contain myself. We should be free, free to let our imaginations explore. Free to write our endings the way we want them. As I read over some of the fantastic endings that were written here for this contest, it makes me wonder what would it be like if they weren't contained to a mere 300 words. Because in my opinion... I don't think Donald would want us to limit ourselves, because he himself hates limits. He hates limiting himself to a rapper or an actor or a comedian. He just want's to make things people want to listen to. That was my goal with this script. Something people liked to read. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this half as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you want to eliminate me from the contest, I understand. Just know that I put every ounce of love and care I had into this project. This wasn't just a half-assed entry for something some people probably won't even care about. No, I respect this album and Donald too much not to attempt to do it justice. So I wrote. Constant sleepless nights, countless views of Clapping For The Wrong Reasons, endless analysis of the script. I went through constant revising of the script until I thought it was perfect. And this is what came out of it. Sure it's flawed, but it's a flaw that I'm proud of. Thank you for your time. - A Boy