86. Warning Labels - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. AMANDA'S BEDROOM - DAY


• AMANDA sits on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes as sunlight streams into the room.


• INT. AMANDA'S BATHROOM - DAY


• She gets up, staggers into the bathroom, and steps into the shower, throwing her robe over the top of the curtain.


• She turns the shower on to full blast, steam rising and covering the bathroom in a fine mist.


• She finishes, drying off, and preparing for her day, brushing her teeth, washing her face, but applies no makeup.


• INT. AMANDA'S BEDROOM - DAY


• She walks back into the room and finishes getting dressed, transformed from a sleepy young woman into a professional, ready to conquer the day.


• Her face still shows the lines of sleep and a slightly sleepy, sad gaze.


• INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY - DAY


• She walks quickly down the hallway, checking her cell phone for the time, then stops short.


• AMANDA
• Oh!


• She turns back, and opens a small closet door.


• She pulls the draw string on the naked bulb, and the closet is flooded with light.


• It's a surreal closest, lined dozens of masks, all perfect replicas of her face.


• Each is set in a slightly different emotion.


• She scans the closet, then makes her choice.


• She flips the mask over; a worn sticker is attached on the inside.


• It reads: Warning! Side effects of prolonged usage may include...


• She tears the sticker off and crumples it, tossing it onto the floor while wiping her fingers to get rid of the stickiness.


• She places the mask on her face and it almost seems to melt into her, only a tiny seam showing where mask meets face.


• Her entire body straightens, and her stride becomes more brisk the minute the mask is in place.


• She is now bright and cheery, and heads out the door, her makeup immaculate.


• INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT


• Amanda walks into the room, still brisk, even after a long day of work.


• She sits down on the side of the bed and pulls of her shoes, wiggling her toes.


• She reaches up, and tries to pull the mask off.


• It doesn't budge.


• She pulls harder, and tendrils grow from the bottom of the mask and wrap around her neck.


• She fights for a moment, struggling to pull the mask away, then lets go, gasping for air.


• The tendrils tighten, warning, then slowly pull away, disappearing once again.


• She sits on the edge of the bed, face content, fixed in a cheerful smile for a long moment.


• A tear rolls out of her eye, down the mask, and past the smile.


• FADE TO BLACK.