THE HUNGRY ONE Episode 1 

By 

Frank Juchniewicz 

2021 Frank Horror, LLCTHE HUNGRY ONE EPISODE 1 

SCENE 1: NON-SEQUENTIAL COUNTING 

INT. ABBOTT HOUSE, JUSTINE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT 

NARRATOR 

They tell you that monsters aren’t real. They tell you 

this as a child, afraid of the dark, imploring the 

adults for help. "But monsters aren’t real, honey. Go 

back to bed. There’s nothing to be afraid of." They 

tell you that, placating you with the best of 

intentions. But they are wrong. Monsters are real and 

you are right to be afraid. 

(A LONG PAUSE) 

JUSTINE 

(WHISPERS) 

Fourteen...seven...sixty-three...ten...one hundred and 

twenty-two...eighty-nine... 

NARRATOR 

It’s that time of night when the television gets turned 

off, when her mom goes to bed, that the house slumps 

into a silence. That’s when her mind rushes to fill 

that vast, empty quiet. Her thoughts reverberate like 

echoes, repetitive and expansive... Scary thoughts that 

she can’t turn off. 

JUSTINE 

(WHISPERS) 

Eight...thirty...seventy-six...five... 

NARRATOR 

Justine Abbott knows from experience that simply trying 

to ignore the thoughts is futile. Lying there in the 

dark trying to sleep only makes it worse. She’s got to 

get out of bed, distract herself until the scary 

thoughts pass. In times like these, her mind is her 

enemy; she is at war with herself, struggling to keep 

her incessant ruminations from whipping her into a 

panic. 

JUSTINE 

Fifty-eight...twenty-three... 

NARRATOR 

It’s been like this off and on since she was a kid. In 

her late teens and early twenties these episodes abated 

somewhat, probably crowded out by the everyday 

distractions of trying to figure out how to fit in and 

find her place in the world-- not to mention going off 

(MORE) 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 2. 

NARRATOR (cont’d) 

to college, juggling new responsibilities and living on 

her own. In fact, by the time she had adjusted to 

on-campus life, she thought maybe she had finally 

outgrown this childhood fear... Maybe this gave her a 

false sense of security. Maybe she thought it was 

finally safe to talk about it. So when she foolishly 

told two of her dorm-mates about when she was eight 

years old, about the incident in the woods... That’s 

when things got bad again. And it’s been that way ever 

since. 

JUSTINE 

(WHISPERS) 

Eleven...seven hundred and ten... 

NARRATOR 

And here she is now, a college graduate, all these 

years later in her twenties, STILL trying not to think 

about the thing that terrifies her the most. 

And therein lies the conundrum: in actively trying not 

to recall what happened that day, in trying NOT to 

think about it, she can’t help but think about it. It’s 

impossible not to. Especially once the fear sets in. 

JUSTINE 

Seventy-nine...one... 

NARRATOR 

Justine had learned that ticking off a series of random 

numbers - what’s known as non-sequential counting - can 

occupy your mind enough to pull you out of a spiral of 

obsessive thoughts. 

The counting isn’t working. Sometimes it does, but not 

tonight. Tonight the sickly sensation of fear crawls 

through her, just beneath her skin, lifting the soft 

hairs on her arms and the back of her neck on end. 

(A BEAT) 

NARRATOR 

Her bedroom looks different in the dark. Larger, 

somehow. More corners in which things can hide. Her 

imagination transforms the stout silhouettes of her 

bedroom furniture into something more ominous - 

crouched figures pressed against the walls, looming. 

SOUND: LAMP SWITCH CLICKING ON. 

NARRATOR 

One click of the table lamp next to the bed is enough 

to dispel that illusion and provide her momentary 

relief. As much as she hates to rely on it, as much as 

(MORE) 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 3. 

NARRATOR (cont’d) 

she hates the groggy feeling in her head the next day, 

she relents and pulls the sleeping pills out of her 

nightstand. 

SOUND: NIGHTSTAND DRAWER OPENING. RATTLE OF PILLS IN A PILL 

BOTTLE. GULP OF WATER. 

NARRATOR 

It’ll take some time for the pill to kick in, and 

laying here cowering won’t do her any good. Justine 

gets out of bed, intending to find another way to 

distract herself. Her mom’s room is right next to the 

living room and, for some reason, her mom sleeps with 

her bedroom door open - she always has. With this in 

mind, careful not to turn on too many lights or clatter 

around too much, Justine tiptoes through the hallway, 

through the dining room, and into the living room. 

SOUND: SHUFFLING FOOTSEPS ON CARPET. 

NARRATOR 

Here she sidles over towards one of the front windows 

and leans in, parting the blinds with her fingers, 

daring to peek through towards the murky yard beyond. 

She sees nothing outside, of course. Was she really 

expecting to see it prowling out there in the yard? 

(A BEAT) 

NARRATOR 

She tries to force a laugh in spite of herself, but 

it’s not funny. None of this is funny. So she indulges 

her paranoia in one final gesture by testing the 

window. Satisfied that it’s locked up tight, she now 

needs to let this go and try and get some sleep. 

Tomorrow is a work day and that alarm is going to hit 

her like a jackhammer if she doesn’t get to bed soon. 

Keeping the volume low, Justine settles into the living 

room couch and turns on the TV. She zeroes in on “Real 

Talk with Jacinta Woods” - Mom’s favorite daytime talk 

show. There’s something about the presence of a live 

studio audience paired with the upbeat banter between 

host and guests that Justine finds comforting in 

moments like these. She selects one of the streaming 

episodes with Jacinta’s frequent guest, Dr. Gottschalk 

(or Dr. G as they call him for short). Justine finds 

his discussions about psychology and self-help to be 

more substantive than celebrities plugging their latest 

films or album releases. Dr. G’s topic in this 

particular episode is Anxiety - how we all experience 

anxiety as a part of our everyday life, but how it can 

be more severe in some, crippling in some cases. Using 

(MORE) 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 4. 

NARRATOR (cont’d) 

layman’s terms, Dr. G describes the interdependence of 

thoughts, emotions and physical sensations - how 

anxious thoughts can cause negative emotions, which can 

drive the body into a heightened state, which in turn 

add fuel to even more anxious thoughts. And so the 

cycle continues to escalate. Jacinta cuts in to make a 

joke, relating this to how she feels before hosting 

holiday dinners with her in-laws. Laughter swells from 

the audience. Justine laughs along, feeling some of the 

tension easing from her chest. Eventually the talk show 

prattle stretches into a thin, drone of sound and 

Justine dozes off on the couch, a murky cloud of 

medicating sleep holding at bay all of the scary 

monsters, distant and forgotten... for now. 

SCENE 2: ANIMAL NOISES 

INT. ABBOTT HOUSE, KITCHEN - DAY 

SOUND: JARRING ALARM SOUND. 

JUSTINE 

(GROANS) 

SOUND: TAPPING THE ALARM AND IT SILENCES. 

NARRATOR 

The morning alarm finds Justine in her bedroom in a 

series of alerts and snoozes - struggle the alarm 

eventually wins. As sleep drains from her head, she’s 

left with the vague memory of getting up from the couch 

in the middle of the night, going to the bathroom and 

climbing into her bed. She dreads the workday ahead, 

but at least she goes into it armed with a few hours of 

solid sleep. Drawn by the aroma of freshly-brewed 

coffee, emerging from the dark cave of her bedroom, the 

kitchen, by contrast, was awash in obnoxious sunlight 

punching its way through the windows. Morning felt 

impossibly loud, so she squinted in an attempt to limit 

how much of it she allowed in at one time. 

SHERRI 

Oh look, it emerges! Good morning, remember we’ve got 

bagels from Finkel’s. I know you like the poppyseed... 

Shhh, I forgot! Don’t talk to you until you have your 

coffee. 

JUSTINE 

Mmm-hmm. 

SOUND: CLATTER OF THE COFFEE POT, POURING OUT A CUP AND 

TAKING A SIP. 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 5. 

SHERRI 

Is it safe now? 

JUSTINE 

Mom-- 

SHERRI 

They had the veggie spread you like. 

JUSTINE 

I kept hitting snooze, so I don’t think I’ll have time 

before work. 

SHERRI 

Well take one with you. I’ll toast it while you get 

ready. 

(A BEAT) 

SHERRI 

Did you hear that animal last night? 

JUSTINE 

What? What animal? 

SHERRI 

I don’t know how that didn’t wake you. 

JUSTINE 

I took an Ambien. Couldn’t sleep, so... I took that 

around two o’clock. They always knock me out. 

SHERRI 

Yeah, this was probably a little after three. 

JUSTINE 

What animal, Mom? What was it? 

SHERRI 

Hell if I know. Woke me up from a deep sleep. Scared 

the hell out of me. It sounded like something getting 

murdered. Or maybe it was in heat, who knows. 

JUSTINE 

Could be a fox. They can make a sound kind of like a 

scream. 

SHERRI 

Well, whatever it was it must have been right here in 

the yard because it was loud. If I hear it again I’m 

calling Animal Control. What if it has rabies or 

something? 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 6. 

NARRATOR 

That’s another drawback of taking a sleeping aid - 

anything could happen in the night and Justine may not 

hear it. She could end up sleeping helplessly through 

potential danger...A worrisome thought, considering 

what she thinks may be out there stalking her. Before 

she has a chance to go too far down that rabbit hole, 

though, a glance at the advancing clock brings a spike 

of anxiety and a realization... 

JUSTINE 

Shit! I’m going to be late. 

NARRATION 

Hustling to get ready, Justine makes some mental 

calculations about which steps of her routine can be 

skipped this morning and what she can accomplish on her 

car ride to the university. 

SCENE 3: OBJECTS ON THE LAWN 

EXT. ABBOTT HOUSE, FRONT WALK - DAY 

NARRATOR 

Fighting through the residual muck left behind by last 

night’s sleeping pill, Justine manages a quick prep for 

work. 

SOUND: FRONT DOOR OPENING AND BIRDS CHIRPING OUTSIDE. A 

FLURRY OF FOOTSTEPS ON THE WALK AS JUSTINE RACES TO THE CAR. 

NARRATOR 

Armed with her travel mug of coffee, Justine rushes out 

the front door. Sherri follows, calling out before 

Justine reaches her car. 

SHERRI 

(IN THE DISTANCE) 

Justine! 

NARRATION 

She holds up the toasted bagel and Justine circles back 

for it. 

JUSTINE 

Thanks! 

SHERRI 

Is that what you’re wearing? It’s supposed to be a hot 

one today. 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 7. 

JUSTINE 

Mom, they crank the AC at the university. 

SHERRI 

Okay, okay. Have a good day. 

SOUND: CAR DOOR OPENING AND CLOSING QUICKLY. CAR ENGINE 

COMING TO LIFE, THEN THE CAR CAREFULLY BACKING UP INTO THE 

STREET. THEN ACCELERATING OFF. 

NARRATION 

Sherri lingers in the walkway near the house, watching 

her daughter hop into the car and back out of the 

driveway in a hurry. It’s not lost on her how the years 

rush by, how her apple-cheeked little girl has matured 

into a young woman. And yet, here Sherri still does 

mom-things like standing here worrying over her until 

her car is down the road and out of sight, wondering if 

she could have done more to help propel her daughter 

into the day ahead. Even when they’re grown and don’t 

need you anymore, that maternal instinct is hard to 

shake. And that’s the part that troubles Sherri the 

most-- the not being needed, at least not in the way 

she used to be. Still, she can congratulate herself 

that, despite the challenge of raising a daughter as a 

single mom, she must have done some things right. The 

grounded, competent, intelligent woman that Justine 

became is evidence of that. 

SHERRI 

(SIGHS) 

NARRATOR 

With a sigh she pivots back towards the house, her 

thoughts turning towards which projects to tackle 

today. It would be easy to lapse into relaxation mode 

and squander her time off - time that she had 

specifically earmarked for organizing her things. She 

squints as the morning sun fans her face and something 

else catches her attention. There in the grass near the 

edge of the house she spies something obnoxiously 

orange. She trudges over to the object to find a Nerf 

football laying abandoned and forgotten. The next door 

neighbors have two young boys and inevitably balls, 

badmitten shuttles, toys, all find their way over the 

fence and onto her lawn. As she always does in this 

case, Sherri retrieves the football and tosses is back 

over the fence to its rightful owners. But this little 

errand over to the fence opens up a vantage point to 

the side yard, and in that narrow strip of grass she 

spies yet another object. This one, however, is 

different. Darker. Closer to the house. Slightly 

larger. This one has fur. 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 8. 

NARRATOR 

The way it’s laying, immobile, suggests it is either 

sleeping or dead. Sherri approaches with caution, 

figuring that if the animal is still alive but severely 

wounded (and judging by the deep red gashes in its 

flank, it would have to be), then it could be 

dangerous. A wounded and frightened animal unable to 

flee is likely to lash out. She prods it gently with 

the tip of her slipper, ready to jump back if it 

flinches or reacts in any way; it does neither. 

Relieved, she uses her foot to push it over a little 

and get a better look. 

SOUND: A SMALL BODY FLOPPING OVER IN THE GRASS. 

SHERRI 

Oh my god! 

NARRATOR 

It’s a possum, or rather what’s left of one. The gashes 

in its sides were just a hint of the carnage 

underneath. Bloody ribbons of furred flesh splay from a 

deep wound on its underside. It looks as if it were 

gnawed through, straight into its belly. This possum 

wasn’t just killed, it was predated. Something much 

larger ate a whole right through its midsection, 

leaving the carcass like a deflated sack of bones and 

skin and fur. Could a dog have been responsible for 

this? Or something more wild, like a fox? She recounted 

the horrible screeching that awoke her in the middle of 

the night. 

SHERRI 

Ugh, what a mess! 

NARRATION 

What does one do in this situation? She considers 

calling animal control, but there’s nothing to control, 

really. It’s already dead. She decides to dispose of it 

herself. But the prospect of handling the carcass, even 

with gloves, is repulsive given its bloody state. The 

shovel in the shed should do the trick. Sherri scoops 

it up, the poor thing, and drops it into the trash can. 

SOUND: THE BODY OF THE DEAD POSSUM BEING DUMPED IN THE 

TRASHCAN AND THE LID BEING PLACED BACK ON TOP. 

NARRATOR 

Trash collection is tomorrow and, even though it’s been 

unseasonably warm, it is still October. It probably 

won’t start to reek too badly in the next 24 hours. 

SOUND: GARDEN HOSE STREAMING AT FULL FORCE HITTING THE 

SHOVEL BLADE. 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 9. 

NARRATOR 

Once this is done, Sherri hoses the blood and grue off 

the shovel blade and second-guesses herself as to 

whether or not burying the possum would have been the 

right thing to do. Then again, it’s not like it was 

anyone’s pet; it was just a wild animal. She gazes at 

the trash can from afar and wonders if the possum had 

babies to care for, responsibilities left unfulfilled. 

SHERRI 

(IN RESIGNATION) 

Well... I hope you weren’t someone’s mama. 

(SIGHS) 

SCENE 4: DOLLHOUSE 

EXT. UNIVERSITY LAWN, OUTDOOR BENCH - DAY 

SOUND: DISTANT BACKGROUND CHATTER EVERY NOW AND THEN OF 

STUDENTS MOVING ABOUT ON CAMPUS. BIRDS CHIRPING IN THE 

TREETOPS. 

NARRATOR 

Combine lack of sleep and an Ambien hangover with a job 

in IT where you sit at a desk and state at computer 

code all day; the result is a hellish case of eye 

strain. And coffee only gets you so far before the 

wheels come off that train. So meeting Allie for lunch 

at one of the picnic tables on the campus lawn, 

breathing in a jolt of fresh air, that seemed like a 

stellar idea to propel Justine through the latter half 

of the workday. Unfortunately, a number of factors 

conspired against that plan: the mild temperature and 

soft, whispering breeze; the sun splashing her face and 

hands with its warmth; the steady drone of distant 

student’s voices loitering around campus. While she 

waits for Allie to show, Justine’s gaze rests upon the 

tips of the trees, their foliage thinning and drying 

like sheets of paper, the colors of sunset and rust. 

Her pulse thrums in her head, lulling her into a daze 

and when she blinks her eyelids nearly stick together. 

SOUND: A SINGLE PAIR OF FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING THROUGH THE 

GRASS. 

ALLIE 

Hey! Sorry, I got stuck on an issue with that 

registration software. Again. That’s a mess and 

Khatri’s still pushing it. She’s determined to go down 

with that ship and in the meantime that means we’re all 

bailing water... What happened to you? 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 10. 

JUSTINE 

What? 

ALLIE 

You look like shit. No offense. 

JUSTINE 

I’ve had a headache all day. I’m not sleeping again. 

ALLIE 

(HESITANT) 

Is it...? You know? I’m kind of afraid to even ask. 

JUSTINE 

Yeah. That’s it. I feel like it’s going to happen 

again. 

ALLIE 

Shit. Has it? 

JUSTINE 

No. Not yet. It’s not to that point yet. But it will be 

if I don’t stop thinking about it. I just... My mind is 

racing and I tell myself, ‘Don’t think about it, 

Justine. Think about something else. Think about my 

neighbor’s dog, or the plot to the last Hemmingway 

novel I just read, or the trip I took to Ireland last 

spring. Just think about something... ELSE.’ 

ALLIE 

Okay, that’s good. Does that work? 

JUSTINE 

Not really. Allie, there’s nothing that seems to really 

work. I try to distract myself. I try not to think 

about it, but the more I tell myself not to think about 

it... the more my mind goes right back to it. I can’t 

help it. And then I’m terrified. And that fear makes it 

all seem... dangerous. My thoughts aren’t in my control 

anymore. 

(A PAUSE) 

JUSTINE 

(DROPPING HER VOICE TO A WHISPER) 

It’s going to find me again, Allie. I’m scared to death 

that it’s going to happen again. 

ALLIE 

It doesn’t have to. You went years since the last... 

incident. Right? You went this long without seeing her. 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 11. 

JUSTINE 

I know, I’m only making things worse. That’s the point. 

Even just talking about it like this is probably enough 

to make it happen. 

ALLIE 

All right, slow down. Relax. It’s not going to help to 

work yourself up over it. The best thing you can do is 

to keep from panicking. It’s like a panic attack, 

right? My sister used to get those in high school and 

she said a panic attack is like those old Chinese 

finger traps; the more you panic and try to pull away, 

the worse it’s going to get. So you just have to relax, 

just breathe. 

JUSTINE 

Yeah, easier said than done. It’s like obsessive 

thoughts that I can’t turn off, and I need to learn how 

to do that. I’m going to a counselor tomorrow night. 

Janie on Tom’s team had some issues with anxiety after 

her second child and she told me about her counselor. 

She recommended him. 

ALLIE 

Okay. I think that’s good. This is a lot like anxiety, 

so... yeah. When’s your first session? 

JUSTINE 

After work. 

ALLIE 

Today? Good! That’s really good. 

JUSTINE 

You think I’m crazy. I know how it sounds. 

ALLIE 

You’re not crazy. 

JUSTINE 

You’re like the only person I’ve told about this. 

You’re the only person I trust. 

ALLIE 

Like you said, it’s been years since the last time it 

happened. What do you think is triggering it this time? 

(A BEAT) 

JUSTINE 

Mikey. My cousin. I haven’t talked to him in years. He 

and his wife just moved to town. He got some kind of a 

corporate job downtown. 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 12. 

ALLIE 

He was there. The first time. In the woods? 

JUSTINE 

He knew the story. He’s the one that told us. And then 

we all saw it. 

(SHUDDERS) 

I can’t! I have to change the subject, Allie. I can’t. 

I’m starting to feel the panic-- 

ALLIE 

Okay. Okay, yeah. Let’s change the subject. Ummmm, how 

about Aaron? 

JUSTINE 

Aaron. Okay, let’s talk about Aaron. 

ALLIE 

Did you mention me yet? 

JUSTINE 

No, I didn’t climb Monday night. The other two couldn’t 

make it so it would have just been Aaron and I. And I’m 

not comfortable with that. 

ALLIE 

Well, what is he? Some kind of creep? 

JUSTINE 

No, he’s nice. He’s perfectly nice, he’s just not my 

type. I just didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness. 

But I’m heading to the rock gym tomorrow night, so I’ll 

talk to him then. I’ll mention my single friend. 

ALLIE 

The old bait and switch. Hey, beggars can’t be 

choosers. 

JUSTINE 

I never baited him, Allie. He did that all on his own. 

(A BEAT) 

JUSTINE 

So, I don’t really want to go back into it, but... you 

don’t believe me? About...? 

ALLIE 

Oh no, I believe you. I believe you saw what you saw. I 

just don’t know what to make of it. I’m not so 

convinced that it’s real. 

(A PAUSE) 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 13. 

ALLIE 

When I was six years old... I’ll never forget. It was 

Christmas Eve and I had been so good all year. I tried 

extra hard that year because there was this dollhouse I 

wanted. It was so big and amazing that it came in like 

three different sections and you had to put it 

together. I mean, this thing would take up a third of 

your bedroom, that’s how awesome it was. And so I knew 

that Santa was watching, because that’s what he does, 

right? He’s always watching to see if you’re good, and 

if you’re not then your parents lord that over you to 

get you to behave. But I was good that year because I 

wanted that dollhouse so badly. I mean, we were six 

days out from Christmas (I remember because we had one 

of those Advent calendars and I was excited about the 

partridge on the day six marker). Anyway, this is 

besides the point. When you get kids all worked up 

about the approach of Christmas and Santa and presents, 

and then you expect them to behave... Yeah, that’s not 

happening. So I had made it this far: six days from 

Christmas. All I had to do was be good and that 

dollhouse was mine, I was sure of it. Well, my brother 

Robbie rips my stuffed dog out of my hands for some 

stupid reason and I went ape-shit. I started screaming 

at him, so he goes off running. And I chase him through 

the house and we end up knocking a vase off the living 

room table. CRASH! This thing shatters into a million 

shards and Mom comes running, mad as hell because that 

vase was a gift. It was quite a scene: She’s yelling at 

us, scooping up the pieces from the floor. Robbie and I 

are crying, and just then... I glance over there he 

was. Peering in the window with his white gloves 

pressed against the glass and his old white beard 

clinging to his wide, red face. It was Santa, and I saw 

him clear as day watching us. Just as clearly as I see 

you right now. 

(A BEAT) 

ALLIE 

Now, you and I know that’s not what really happened. We 

know that my imagination conjured that in the moment. 

Emotions were running high, my expectations were set. 

Now I know Santa doesn’t really exist, and I’m not 

crazy, but in that moment what I saw was real to me. 

JUSTINE 

So what happened? 

ALLIE 

You want to know what happened? I’ll tell you what 

happened: That Christmas... I got my dollhouse. 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 14. 

JUSTINE 

That’s the moral of the story? 

ALLIE 

I don’t know. What do you want from me? I think it’s a 

good story and I stand by it... The point is, I think 

that what you saw in the woods when you were little is 

kind of like when I saw Santa in the window. 

(A BEAT) 

ALLIE 

The mind plays tricks. 

JUSTINE 

...I wish that were so. 

SCENE 5: A THERAPEUTIC APPROACH 

INT. DR. OSBOURNE’S HOUSE, THERAPY OFFICE - NIGHT 

NARRATOR 

Walking into therapy for the first time is a daunting 

process. She’s not entirely sure what to expect, how 

she will be judged. And the thought of talking about 

that thing she encountered in the woods as a child -- 

well, that frightens her more than anything because she 

knows from past encounters that talking about it, even 

thinking about it, seems to draw its attention to her. 

Like a mosquito bite: the more you scratch it, the 

angrier it gets. But Justine is desperate for whatever 

tools therapy can give her, to help shut down those 

thoughts before that thing senses them and hones in on 

her again. Provided it’s not already too late, that 

it’s not already stalking her. 

NARRATOR 

Dr. James Osbourne’s office is a separate little 

section built onto the side of his house, which feels 

warmer and more welcoming to Justine than going to some 

cookie-cutter corporate office suite. While his dark 

hair and a full beard with a dusting of white hides 

most of his face, his eyes twinkle with kindness. 

There’s a paternal benevolence about him that feels 

safe, that makes it easier to open up about what 

happened in the woods that day. Mindful to probe the 

incident enough to get a grasp on what happened, Dr. 

Osbourne was careful not to dwell on it before setting 

expectations and laying out possible solutions. All of 

this gave Justine cause for a small glimmer of hope. 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 15. 

DR. OSBOURNE 

I can see you become... physically uncomfortable when 

you talk about what happened. 

JUSTINE 

I don’t like talking about it. 

DR. OSBOURNE 

Because you’re afraid it will happen again. 

JUSTINE 

Because I KNOW it will. It seems to know when I talk 

about it, when I think about it. And that’s when it 

comes. 

DR. OSBOURNE 

...Are you aware of the term self-fulfilling prophecy? 

It’s when you believe something very deeply. You 

believe something is going to happen, and so you act 

accordingly. You anticipate that event and you behave 

in a way that you think will best prepare you for it. 

But in doing so you, yourself, are creating the very 

event that you feared. 

JUSTINE 

That’s exactly what’s happening. But I don’t know how 

to stop it. The more afraid I get, the more I think 

about it, the more afraid I get. And I’ve tried the 

things I learned from reading books or watching pop 

psychologists like Dr. G... little tricks like 

non-sequential counting... Those work a little, but 

it’s not enough. 

(A PAUSE) 

DR. OSBOURNE 

I don’t suspect this, but I would like to do some 

evaluations just to rule out other mental illness. 

Psychosis, schizophrenia. I’m not seeing that, but just 

to be safe... 

JUSTINE 

Dr. Osbourne, you asked me about my goal for treatment. 

My goal is: help me stop that self-fulfilling prophecy. 

I don’t want to see that thing again. I don’t EVER want 

to see it again. 

DR. OSBOURNE 

There are some cognitive behavioral techniques we can 

use that can be pretty effective. Thought stopping to 

break to chain of obsessive thoughts, some relaxation 

techniques to bring down your baseline anxiety. And 

EMDR is an approach that works really well with trauma. 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 16. 

JUSTINE 

(TAKEN OFF-GUARD) 

Trauma? 

DR. OSBOURNE 

Sure. Not in the sense of, say a veteran with PTSD who 

lived through his humvee being blown up - that’s an 

example on the extreme end. But trauma is relative, 

it’s subjective. What happened to you when you were 

eight years old impacted you... in a traumatic way. 

JUSTINE 

I never thought of it like that. 

(A BEAT) 

JUSTINE 

So what is this E...D...? 

DR. OSBOURNE 

EMDR- Eye Movement Desensiti-- 

(A BEAT) 

DR. OSBOURNE 

I always stumble on this. Eye Movement Desensitization 

and Reprocessing. 

(CHUCKLES) 

That’s a mouthful. You can see why it’s abbreviated... 

It’s a method where we can use some physiological 

stimulation while reconnecting you to the traumatic 

event in a way that can break those negative 

associations with the event. And I mean, that’s putting 

it simply, but... 

JUSTINE 

You’re saying it can make me less afraid? So I wouldn’t 

obsess about it? So I wouldn’t constantly struggle with 

trying not to think about it? EMDR can do that? 

DR. OSBOURNE 

It is an evidence-based therapy. I’ve used it with many 

clients. It can be very effective. 

JUSTINE 

(EAGERLY) 

I want that. EMDR. I want to do that... I want to be 

free of this. 

DR. OSBOURNE 

All right. Well, Tuesdays at this same time are open. I 

can set you up with a weekly standing appointment-- 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 17. 

JUSTINE 

Can you do sooner? Do you have anything before next 

Tuesday? 

DR. OSBOURNE 

I don’t, actually. This is a pretty packed week. Ummm, 

but I can call you if someone cancels, if I get an 

opening before Tuesday. Would that be okay? 

JUSTINE 

Yes. Yes, let’s do that. 

SCENE 6: THAT FEELING OF BEING 

WATCHED 

EXT. DR. OSBOURNE’S DRIVEWAY - NIGHT 

NARRATOR 

Despite the island of hope that her therapy session 

provided, there was still the prospect of leaving 

afterwards, turning back out into the world where the 

days grew shorter and night held sway. 

SOUND: CLOSING THE DOOR TO THE THERAPY OFFICE FOLLOWED BY 

HURRIED FOOTSTEPS ON THE DRIVE. 

NARRATOR 

Stepping outside, greeted now by the gloom, Justine 

hurries to her car. Fearful, her eyes tack to the dark 

shadows around the hedges, under the porch, to the 

treeline on the far side of the drive. Justine had 

managed for so long not to openly talk about what 

happened in the woods all those years ago, to 

effectively repress the memory of it. But then recently 

she opened up to her work friend, Allie, and now Dr. 

Osbourne. After those years of silence it felt so 

gratifyingly freeing to do so, but terrifying at the 

same time. Has she opened the floodgates? Has she 

caused that horrible monstrosity to find her again, to 

hunt her down? She’s gripped by the eerie sensation 

that she’s being watched from somewhere in the dark 

behind the house. 

SOUND: THE CAR DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES AGAIN QUICKLY. KEYS IN 

THE IGNITION, CAR ENGINE COMING TO LIFE AND BEING THROWN IN 

REVERSE. 

NARRATOR 

Dr. Osbourne seems confident in his ability to help 

her; she just has to hold out until the next session. 

And, like he said, hopefully he can even squeeze her in 

sooner if he gets a cancellation. The promise of help 

is finally coming, but this last stretch while she’s 

(MORE) 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 18. 

NARRATOR (cont’d) 

waiting to be rescued is by far the most frightening 

and seems to be the most fraught with peril. Until 

Justine sees Dr. Osbourne again she’s going to need to 

be very careful. 

SCENE 7: INDIAN SUMMER 

EXT. ABBOTT HOUSEHOLD DRIVEWAY - NIGHT 

SOUND: FRANTIC JINGLE OF KEYS. 

NARRATOR 

Once home, Justine fumbles with the keys in the door, 

nervous to get inside quickly, afraid to look around 

over her shoulder. She closes the door behind her and, 

only after locking it does she issue a small sigh of 

relief. 

SOUND: LOCKS AND CHAIN ON THE DOOR. 

JUTINE 

(SIGHS) 

SHERRI (FROM THE OTHER ROOM) 

Justine? 

JUSTINE 

Oh, hey Mom! 

SOUND: JUSTINE TOSSING HER KEYS IN A BASKET BY THE DOOR AND 

DRIFTS INTO THE KITCHEN. 

SHERRI 

I just assumed you were coming right home after work. 

JUSTINE 

I had some errands to run. Things to take care of. 

SHERRI 

Ooh, I like that shirt. That color looks good on you. 

JUSTINE 

Thanks, Mom. 

SHERRI 

I cooked dinner for you. I was waiting for you to get 

home, but then I just went ahead and ate. 

JUSTINE 

You don’t have to wait for me, Mom. That’s fine. 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 19. 

SHERRI 

Are you hungry? It’s still out on the stove. 

JUSTINE 

A little bit, I guess. I can pick at some of this. 

SHERRI 

Go ahead and eat. 

SOUND: UTENSILS AGAINST THE SIDE OF A POT AND CLINKING ON 

THE DISH. 

SHERRI 

What about the chicken? Do you want any of that? 

JUSTINE 

Nah. 

SHERRI 

Well take it for your lunch tomorrow. 

JUSTINE 

I gave up eating animals, Mom. Remember? 

SHERRI 

Like for real? Like for good?... Ohh, I thought that 

was just like a temporary diet thing. Like a cleanse? 

Is that what they call it now? 

JUSTINE 

No, I’m vegetarian now. 

SHERRI 

Oh. Whatever. 

SOUND: KITCHEN CHAIR SLIDING BACK AS JUSTINE SITS. CLINKING 

OF SILVERWARE ON THE PLATE. 

(A BEAT) 

SHERRI 

Well, I’m going to go watch my shows. Is it just me, or 

is it hot in here? 

JUSTINE 

I mean, it is warm. 

SHERRI 

Right? It’s unseasonably warm. They talked about it on 

the news tonight... 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 20. 

JUSTINE 

(HER MOUTH FULL OF FOOD) 

Global warming. It is a thing, Mom. 

SHERRI 

Well, whatever it is, it almost hit eighty degrees 

today. That’s ridiculous. It’s just stuffy in here. So 

I think I’m going to leave some of these windows open 

tonight. 

JUSTINE 

(SUDDENLY NERVOUS) 

Oh... I don’t think that’s a good idea. 

SHERRI 

Why? Don’t you think we might sleep a little better if 

the house cools off a bit? 

JUSTINE 

Let’s leave them closed. 

SHERRI 

Why? What’s the matter? 

JUSTINE 

(FUMBLING TO COME UP WITH A REASON) 

M-my allergies... You know how my allergies get. 

SHERRI 

It’s a little late in the season. Are you sure? 

JUSTINE 

They were acting up today. I think maybe with it 

getting warm like it did, maybe it stirred something 

up. 

SHERRI 

Okay. Whatever you say, hun. We can leave them closed. 

NARRATOR 

Justine manages to bury the greater part of her unease, 

at least until her mother leaves the kitchen. The 

thought of that monster skulking around the house in 

the middle of the night, looking for a way in with the 

only barricade the flimsy, mesh window screen... that 

was too much for her anxiety to bear. She will sweat 

herself to sleep if she has to.21. 

SCENE 8: STRIPPED DOWN 

INT. ABBOTT HOUSEHOLD, BATHROOM - NIGHT 

SOUND: SINK TAP RUNNING, VIGOROUS TOOTHBRUSH STROKES 

NARRATOR 

Sweating herself to sleep would have been preferable, 

because that at least implies she would get sleep. Much 

needed sleep. It isn’t until she takes in her 

reflection in the bathroom mirror that she registers 

the toll these sleepless nights are taking on her. The 

dark pools beneath her eyes can be concealed with 

makeup, but stripped down like this in the stark 

bathroom lighting, she looks like a mental patient. And 

again her thoughts return to the memories and fears 

that torment her. 

JUSTINE 

Not now, not now. Stop... You don’t have to think about 

that, you can think about anything you want. 

(A BEAT) 

JUSTINE 

(FRUSTRATED SIGH, WHISPERING) 

Fifteen... Thirty-seven.... Eighty-nine... 

Three...Twenty--two...Seventy-six... 

(FADE OUT ON HER COUNTING) 

SCENE 9: WHAT ABOUT THE WINDOWS? 

INT. ABBOTT HOUSEHOLD, JUSTINE’S ROOM - NIGHT 

NARRATOR 

Is it a trick of perception? Is it her imagination 

taking liberties with her escalating fear? Is she 

really catching some kind of subtle movement within the 

murky shadows in the corners of the room? They shudder 

in time to the beat of her pulse around her drooping 

eyes. Justine surrenders to exhaustion, closing them 

momentarily, but that leaves her blind to what could be 

happening around her. A spike of fear shoots beneath 

her breastbone and her pop open to scan the darkened 

room and her surroundings for any signs of danger. Once 

again, being trapped inside her head feels like being 

locked inside a runaway train of thoughts careening out 

of control. Her racing mind is only making matters 

worse and Justine recognizes she needs to break this 

chain of obsession, but no matter how hard she tries 

she can’t shake the spooky feeling that she’s not alone 

here, that she’s being watched. And this gives rise to 

(MORE) 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 22. 

NARRATOR (cont’d) 

the dreadful anticipation that something terrible is 

about to happen. 

She sits up to reach for her phone and airpods, but 

thinks better of it - the notion of listening to music, 

of willfully surrendering her sense of hearing, of not 

being able to hear the sounds of danger approaching, 

causes a fist of anxiety in her gut. So she sets those 

items back on the nightstand from where they came. 

After the grogginess she swam through today, the 

thought of piling on another Ambien doesn’t seem 

tenable. What if she were to read? That could work; 

that could quiet her thoughts and lull her into sleep. 

SOUND: CLICKS ON THE LIGHT, SITS UP IN BED, FLIPS THROUGH A 

PAPERBACK. 

NARRATOR 

With the small of her back to the pillows propped 

against the headboard, Justine reads a few chapters of 

a paperback that she’s been laboring to get through. 

That helps distract her at first, but as the printed 

words turn soft and begin to lose meaning, her mind 

drifts and finds herself thinking about the windows of 

the house. Her mother agreed to leave them shut 

tonight, but Sherri Abbott was notorious for placating 

you verbally and then doing exactly what she intended 

anyway. A clear line from Justine’s own inherited 

stubbornness could be drawn back to her mother. 

NARRATOR 

The notion that the windows may be wide open, that 

Justine had failed to check them, ushers in a fresh 

wave of panic. Tossing the book aside, Justine gets up 

to roam the house, clicking on a few lights as she goes 

- enough to stave off the dark. Starting with the 

kitchen, Justine moves window to window throughout the 

house, checking them each in turn, ensuring that her 

mother - true to her word - did, in fact keep them 

closed (and latched) as agreed. Roaming the house, in 

the midst of her inspection, with her back to her 

mother’s room, Justine fails to sense the stir of air 

as the bedroom door creeps open behind her. She fails 

to spot the movement of a shape emerging from the 

darkness within, ambling up behind her. Justine turns 

to click off the hallway light, turns just enough to 

catch a glimpse out of the corner of her eye. But it’s 

too late - before she can react, an extended limb 

reaches her, grasps her by the shoulder.... 

(CONTINUED)CONTINUED: 23. 

JUSTINE 

(SCREAMS) 

TO BE CONTINUED