Scene One. Introduction. A Screenplay! Oh me oh my.

Narrating (shot from ground up, snow falling, *person is lying in snow as this is heard*) Blake: I don't believe everything happens for a reason. Partially because I think that would require far too much order in a Universe dying to be chaotic, and partially because I feel people use it as a coping method for their fucked up lives. Maybe I'm just a cynic at 15, I wouldn't deny that. A bit too young for misanthropy some might say, but I've gone to the moon and back. And believe me, I have never once seen a falling star. (snow ball hits camera/face)

(Merciless laughter)

Blake (stands up to face her two year younger brother and her one year older brother): You mother fucking bitches!

(Increased merciless laughter)

Dean (the older one): That's what you get for being a stupid whore.

Jack (the younger one): You're just mad because it washed the cumshot off your face.

Blake: Real awesome, guys. (Thumbs up) I'm going inside.

Dean: Oh come on. We're just kidding. Don't be such an emo kid. (Imitating) Ohh, look at me I have blackness where a heart should be. Feel sorry for me!

Blake: Shut up, Dean. It's not funny. (getting visibly sad)

Jack: You made her cry.

Dean: I didn't do anything. She's the weak one.

Jack: Just leave her alone.

Blake: I'm not crying. I'm just cold, I'm going inside. (walks into her small, two-story home.)

Dad: Blake, what's up?

Blake: Nothing (headed upstairs)

Dad: Now hold up a second. (Blake slowly backtracks her steps)

Blake: What? (Has an attitude)

Dad: Something wrong?

Blake: No

Dad: Then knock off the attitude young lady. I just wanted to have a talk with you.

Blake: (Leaning over the stair case railing) About...?

Dad: Just seeing how you are. Do you want to know how I am?

Blake: Sure.

Dad: Well, I'm just about to watch the game here, I'm pretty happy about that. Would you like to join me? It should be a good one.

Blake: Maybe you should ask Dean and Jack. You know I don't like sports.

Dad: I just thought watching with your Dad could be fun.

Blake: Dad. I always hate sports, no matter the company I am in. And also, that sounded creepy. I'm going upstairs now.

Dad: Fine. I tried. (Turns back to tv, Blake runs upstairs to her bedroom, first door on the left.)

(Blake closes the door, leans against it and sighs. She strips off her coat and sweater and throws them in a pile of clothes on the floor. She maneuvers her way towards the window and grabs her guitar. She begins to play and hum.)

Blake (singing): Oh oh, this place once seemed so safe,
Now all these walls are coming down
And shards of glass and bits of cement
are trapping me, keeping me underground

Mom (pounding on door): Blake! Shut up, I'm trying to sleep!

(Blake looks at the clock. It's 3 in the afternoon on a Saturday. She sighs and switches for her electric guitar that barely makes a noise when not plugged in)

Blake (whispering): But I'll find my way out
I will be strong
I will stand tall
I will see through it all
And even though
This world's out to get me
I will be strong
I will stand tall
I will see through it all
I will see through it all

(Her fingers play one last chord, she looks up towards the sun outside the window. Her eyes glitter. She plugs her guitar into the amp, plays a loud, angry rift, her mother pounds on the wall telling her to shut the fuck up, Blake smirks a little)

(End Scene.)