INT. ROGER EL SAYAD’S BEDROOM- BEFORE DAWN
Gray morning light illuminates a room cluttered with clothes, colored pencils, and crumpled paper. On a nightstand squashed between a twin-sized bed and the wall, an alarm vibrates. Stretching his arm from beneath the bed covers, ROGER, eighteen, slams the alarm, interrupting its buzzing. Roger glances at the time and groans. His head drops onto the pillow. ROGER Why now... He lies still momentarily, staring at the dark ceiling before pushing himself out of bed. ROGER Time to check on Minnie. EXT. BACKYARD- TEN MINUTES LATER The red-tinted indigo sky gleams above a small backyard, bordered in the back by a row trees leading to a forest and empty except for a shed across from the house. The light chirping of birds flits through the air. Roger creaks open the screen door and exits his house, careful the door doesn’t slam behind him. He tiptoes over to a shed with his arms wrapped around two bowls of cereal. ROGER (whispering) Minnie! A low groan sounds from the wooden structure. ROGER I know it’s early, but you gotta eat! A snort from within. Roger sighs and looks around him. A few beats pass and then the shed door creaks open and a minotaur appears, towering over Roger. Roger grins. ROGER There you are, Minnie! EXT. FOREST- A FEW MINUTES LATER Roger and Minnie sit side-by-side on a log in the forest munching on cereal. Fall leaves lay scattered around them. ROGER I have to say, even though it's been a couple of months now, I’m still not used to doing all of this alone. Minnie pauses in his eating to glance at the boy. ROGER I know I should be happy that Aziza has started college and Loli is working now, but...I don’t know...I guess I sound kind of stupid. MINNIE You don’t to me. I miss them, too. They sit in silence. A yellow-speckled gray bird flits to the ground before them. ROGER I’m surprised this little guy hasn’t left yet for migration. MINNIE Maybe he’s like us, not ready to leave home yet. Roger smiles at his friend. ROGER So how should we make the most of this fine day? The two friends sit side-by-side laughing as the yellow-speckled bird lifts off the ground and follows the breeze into the sunrise.
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INT. SANDHYA’S BEDROOM- MORNING
A pink lamp illuminates eight-year-old SANDHYA sitting at her desk staring into space. Above her bed scattered with chapter books and plastic toys, an astronomy-themed analog clock ticks. The hour hand jerks to eight and the clock chimes. Sandhya jolts. While her back is turned to her desk, a bottle of play-doh rolls onto the center of the desk’s surface. Sandhya twists back around and peers at the yellow play-doh container. The second-hand clicks in the background. Grimacing, she snatches the bottle and opens it. Colors ooze onto her hand. Sandhya shakes her wrist and the play-doh transforms into a clay waterfall that wriggles and crawls on its own. The waterfall dips down onto the desk, where it forms a pool. A mountain range builds itself along the length of her arm. Wide-eyed, Sandhya stills. Her gaze flickers to the lamp and a lightbulb (imaginary) appears above her head. Sandhya grins. She squeezes her eyes shut and the play-doh squirms, fusing together into a floating vibrant ball before bursting. Sandhya’s eyes open to see little clay planets revolving around yellow and orange stars drifting by her head. A clay rocketship swoops around the planets before landing on Sandhya’s desk. Sandhya rests her chin on the wooden surface and smiles at the figurine. Plummeting from the asteroids and comets above, white specks of clay tumble around the spaceship. As each speck strikes the desk, they sprout into flowers and critters that sway and frolic beside the vessel. A knock on the door. SANDHYA’S MOTHER (Outside room) Sandhya, help set the table, please! The clay figurines in the air and on the desk fall still before collapsing into a single ball that rolls back into the yellow container. Sighing, Sandhya snaps the cap back on. SANDHYA Coming! Sandhya ambles out of her chair and takes one last glance at the container sitting at her desk. SANDHYA Don’t worry, I’ll be back later. INT. LUCIA’S BEDROOM- MORNING
LUCIA (blonde-haired tween) snores. Click. An alarm clock’s screen flickers “6:30” followed by ribbits. Lucia groans. Two beats. She shoves her covers off and pushes herself out of bed. INT. MATH CLASSROOM- TWO HOURS LATER In a room of colorful tables, Lucia sits in the corner with DAMIAN. DAMIAN This better be the last time I have to draw Mr. Trapezoid. I never knew I could hate a shape so much. LUCIA I think the directions say you have to rotate Mr. Trapezoid. DAMIAN Sh- A ribbit. Lucia jolts. She peeks at her classmates continuing to chat. LUCIA Damian, did you hear that noise? As Damian erases, his page tears. DAMIAN Come on! Yeah, Lucia? LUCIA Nevermind. Lucia peers at teacher MS. MEI bent over grading. She grips her pencil and grimaces. Three more ribbits. DAMIAN I think I do hear something. Was that a frog? Four more ribbits. Lucia’s cheeks flush. LUCIA I-I don’t know what’s going on! The other students freeze. Their stares penetrate Lucia. Ms. Mei glances up. A chorus of ribbits. Along bookshelves and table surfaces, frogs materialize. One hops onto Damian’s head and the boy jumps. DAMIAN What’s going on? Shrieking, the students swat at the frogs with their textbooks. MS. MEI I-I don’t know what’s happening, but-but please sit- A student clobbers a frog into Ms. Mei’s chest. Two more spring up from the teacher’s head. As the screaming continues, more frogs appear. Below her desk, Lucia curls into a ball. A sea of frogs form around her. LUCIA This is all my fault. This is all my fault. My anxiety is doing this to everybody. Damian ducks down beside her. DAMIAN AH! Why’s there so many here!? LUCIA Leave me alone. Another frog pops up from the floor and lands on Damian’s knee. DAMIAN If you’re the one who’s causing all this, you need to figure out how to get rid of this. I would rather redraw Mr. Trapezoid ten times than keep getting attacked by these stupid frogs. LUCIA Stop, Lucia. Stop. Stop. DAMIAN They’re just frogs, Lucia. How hard can they possibly be to get rid of? LUCIA Just frogs. They’re just frogs. Lucia’s eyes squeeze shut. She lets out a breath before opening her eyes. She stands. LUCIA Everyone. I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I can fix this. The students pause. The frogs keep ribbitting. Damian stands. DAMIAN How can you? Lucia closes her eyes. She takes a breath. Lets it out. Takes a breath. Lets it out. DAMIAN Oh. Damian follows Lucia’s example and a few of the frogs around them disappear. Lucia’s classmates shrug and glance at one another and slowly, each student along with Ms. Mei takes part in the breathing exercise. After a few moments, the frogs are gone. The school bell rings. Lucia smiles and opens her eyes. |
AuthorI'm Darcy Ridge, creating stories that all revolve around family and identity in a myriad of ways. In the past, I have shared multiple stories and published a novella online. You can find me on Wattpad and many other social media websites. They/them [Image Description: black background with the words "Social Justice and Mental Health Resources" in white in the center /end ID]
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