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letra de faux pas - delvonte vick

…(breath)…..(breath)………….(breath)..

the floor is a lot colder than he initially remembers. thoughts race through his mind in the last milliseconds of consciousness. all his mistakes, his regrets, and his accomplishments seem to slowly fade into the background. as if it were all a dream, the pain instantly dissipates. he turns his head left and right questioning his own sanity

every nerve in his body ceases to respond as he feels the sensation of floating. still laying down, if it could even be called that at this point, the boy turns all the way to get a better perspective. looking down, it seems he’s leaving his body behind, a scary but comforting feeling. the ceiling phases through him as he floats higher. movement stops. he’s at the height of a j-panese skyscr-per at best. his body starts moving on it’s own

what’s the point of fighting it now? going with the flow seems more suitable for this situation

is this another flight? no this is different. the warm feeling from last time isn’t there

as he gradually increases in speed, a sort of..demonic presence seems to wash over. he looks down at all the people he’s p-ssing over but this time, their faces seem distorted. why? they resemble that of someone in pain. rapidly the people evaporate but it seems the silhouette of their disturbing faces remain. why is he seeing this? all at once, the light of the world goes out leaving only darkness. he just wants all this to end. whether by will power or mind power, the boy gains back enough control of his body to put his face in his hands out of frustration. greeted by more darkness. of course

after what seems like a year, a star creeps it’s way into the landscape and the boy reaches out for the only source of light he can find, but his body decides that now was the most appropriate time to stop moving. figures. not accepting such an eternal, dark fate, the boy fights and threshes against the cold air, forcing his body to move forward. he doesn’t really know why he cares so much about this tiny light but it’s a reason to keep moving. the star changes it’s form into that of a bright light. the light at the end of tunnel. getting ever so close, the
darkness seems to wane from being overwhelmed. covering up one eye, he realizes just how bright this light is. to his astonishment, it gets even brighter. out of instinct, he covers both eyes

removing his hands from his eyes, he’s greeted by a ceiling. blue. teal, even

where am i?

jolting up, he quickly scans the room. a..hospital..?

white guy nurse
h-llo mr.[edit]. how are you feeling?

the boy
i…h..

silence. it’s always the best option

white guy nurse
you’re friends brought you in-

the boy lays his head back, gaining the headache he managed to shake off back. rummaging through the files of his mind, the boy comes to a conclusion

it must have all been a bad drug trip, but..

staring at his hand as he rotates it, he decides that drugs weren’t the cause

it was real. all of it. i swear it was

looking down, the boy notices a bandage over the exact spot that he was shot at..

so the bullet goes from my jacket to my chest..

slowly the realization washes over him that he should be dead right now. again. he chuckles and slowly the chuckle turns into a laugh. after a while he erupts into shrieks of laughter

why? what makes me worth keeping alive? how did this all even start? if it wasn’t for the money, none of this would have come about. no, that’s not the right thing to blame. the computer is the reason for the money. because of that d-mn computer. because of..the internet…

the nurse is speaking to the boy but none of the words seem to make it to his ears. his train of thought is occupied with the window. looking out at the world, the boy smiles and lays his head back. with a grin on his face, his heartbeat starts to slow and the nurse starts to get more animated, obviously affected by the sudden change in events. the slow beeping turns into occasional beeping and as the boy closes his eyes, the beeping stops. the last sounds to grace his ears were the sounds of the nurse yelling for -ssistance. too late for that. the world faded to black but this was a warm black. a welcoming black…

the end

(yes, i know it is well over the allowed word count. i apologize for my blatant disregard for the rules. once my muse started up, limiting it was difficult. if you want to remove me from the contest, i fully understand. my only hope is that donald reads this rewrite to the ending of his screenplay and enjoys it as much as i enjoyed writing it. thank you)

- delvonte vick

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