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letra de becausetheinter.net contest - miguel rico

https://docs.google.com/doc-ment/d/1zlpkdtiyihrqrjbpovibc_px0wz1ve5c_ojgs2ztme4/edit?usp=sharing

dude 2
stay here
dude 2 runs to the backyard
dude 2 (cont’d)
guns dow-!
more shots are fired, the boy is wide eyed, he knows what’s coming next. he runs to the front door, but squad cars pull up. the boy runs up the stairs to his old bedroom. it hasn’t been occupied in ages, spiderwebs decorate the ceiling and line the walls, but no spiders to be seen. the room is bare, the only shelter is under the bed. foot steps creep up the stairs, the boy scurries underneath the bed like a kid afraid of a monster. his heart pounds against the floor. the door creaks open, only boots can be seen from under the bed. the boot walk over to the closet, then to the window, then they stand still. silence. light shrouds the boy as the bed is lifted off him. the light is blinding, the man’s face can’t be made out, only his gun can be seen as the boy gazes into the barrel. more foot steps come up the stairs. gun c-cks. boy’s eye’s are unphased, calm. gun shot. white screen

int. bus – night
the boy sits on a bus between his father and the woman from the photo on his desk, they smile. a couple rows ahead a younger boy, the boy, is pouring out his heart to the girl from that power. the boy tears up, it still hurts, his parents hug him from both sides. tears pour as the light of p-ssing streetlight dance across his face. he closes his eyes
int. hospital room – day
eyes open. the boy lays awake in a hospital bed, bandages around his head. the room is sterile and white, the only sign of life a small table. s’more pop tart wrapper liter the table, a small tupperware container contains half eaten frito pie, the boy’s phone light blinks, messages and tweets from people he doesn’t know wondering if he’s okay. they don’t really care. naomi walks in with water in one hand and her phone in another

naomi
(not looking up from her phone)
so, like poe was alright, but frost-
she looks up and sees the boy, she’s shocked, but then she smiles as if nothing was wrong
naomi (cont’d)
hey

the boy
what happened?

naomi
ask fam

int. prison visiting room
the boy and fam sit across from each other, speaking through their phones, typical, except this time gl-ss stands between them. fam wears an orange jumpsuit, the boy in his brown shearling coat, still has bandages on his head

fam
if they ask, you didn’t know about any of this. you were just there to pick up some cloths or some sh-t, got it?

the boy
but why?

fam
you were right, what we do doesn’t matter, no one’s gonna give a sh-t what we do. but you, n-gga, i know you can do sh-t. if i get locked up my life wouldn’t really change, i’d still be doing nothing

the boy
but what can i do?

fam
n-gga, i don’t know, you need to figure that out
the boy nods his head. roscoe’s wetsuit is etched onto the wooden counter fam is taken away by a guard, the boy gets up and walks out

ext. prison entrance – day
the boy steps into the daylight, looks out onto the street, a bus p-sses. the boy waits there for a minute unsure of his next move. camera pans out from above, start playing life: the biggest troll at this point, the boy walks off, out of the frame. cars p-ss by as credits roll. end

- miguel rico

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