When the Black Swan Drowned.

BLACK SCREEN

The words slowly appear on screen:

“What, conceivably, is the worst story your mind can weave when the melodies of Tchaikovsky’s ‘Swan Lake’ gradually swell to occupy every corner of the room? To a point at which you lose your ability to breathe?”

The words slowly disappear.

The opening notes of Tchaikovsky’s ‘Swan Lake’ begin to play.

INT. PSYCHIATRIST’S OFFICE – NIGHT

OLIVER deliberately closes his eyes in utter confusion, a futile gesture he repeats whenever that piece replays itself, a desperate attempt to show his disdain for it. He does not seem to be able to stomach that piece any longer, as it sounds like his psychiatrist is intentionally playing it specifically for him, in fact, throughout all of his sessions, and for him alone. As if he were trying hard to provoke something deep within him.

After a silence that stretches for minutes, Oliver opens his eyes, noticing the spotless corners of those gray walls, and that sudden sound of the essential oil diffuser, ticking away like a quiet bomb.

A room filled with light, yet somehow shrouded in darkness. So gloomy that it feels like it’s crowded with the confessions of every patient who came before him. As if they were fated to remain imprisoned in this space forever.

Nothing in that room was touched by dust except for that ornate glass plaque bearing his doctor’s name:

“Dr. Oliver Brooks”

Consultant Psychiatrist and Neurologist.

He stares at it. He does not appear to have found the similarity in their names particularly astonishing. He doesn’t seem to care.

He swallows hard, attempting to project a glimpse of discomfort he desperately wishes to show, looking directly at his doctor:

OLIVER

You know this music is driving me nuts.

DR. BROOKS

It didn’t bother you in the beginning…

His doctor said it with a smile that seemed to blend life’s burdens with a trace of resignation, a smile illuminating his handsome, innocent features, which time has not yet managed to alter. This is DR. OLIVER BROOKS.

OLIVER

Maybe… but, Doctor…

Oliver cuts his sentence short to scratch his forehead for a moment, offering a diplomatic smile he has long mastered:

OLIVER (CONT’D)

…Don’t you think you’re playing it way too much? Literally nothing else plays in every single session.

The doctor paid no heed to Oliver’s words; like every attempt before, it was merely another futile effort to convince him to turn it off, and as usual, he leans into Oliver:

DR. BROOKS

How about we try to step out of the dark room you’ve locked yourself in?

Oliver’s eyes glisten, or fill with tears, whichever is closer:

OLIVER

I need some water.

The doctor moistens his dry lips with his tongue and, maintaining a firm composure, gives a slow nod. As Oliver rises sluggishly toward the water cooler, as though expecting his doctor to fetch it for him. He offers a mocking laugh at his own assumption, turning his back to the doctor:

OLIVER (CONT’D)

Talk is easy when you’re just sitting across the desk.

DR. BROOKS

You think so?

Oliver finishes drinking, returns to his chair, and chooses to remain silent…

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

You know why you see it that way? Because everyone who tried to pull you out made you believe you’d never return… so when you fall back in, you feel like… a failure.

A short beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

When the truth is… no one stays escaped forever; no one truly escapes their own room, Oliver.

Oliver stares at his doctor in despair, like a heavy, suffocating mass that seems to have taken up a new seat inside his chest. He exhales sharply, attempting to dislodge the lump lodged in his throat, and maintains his own silence.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

Look, Oliver. Just as there are things that drag you into that room… there are also things that can, temporarily, pull you out.

And before the doctor can fully finish his thought, Oliver bursts out:

OLIVER

I wanna see her… I wanna see her, talk to her, and know why the fuck I haven’t been able to find her for five years… five fucking years.

DR. BROOKS

Sylvia?

Oliver stares in shock, the glint in his eyes intensifying:

OLIVER

For fuck’s sake, how the hell do you know that? I’m sure I never told you…

The doctor interrupts with a reassuring smile:

DR. BROOKS

Again, Oliver? Now I’m completely sure you haven’t been consistent with your meds lately, and you know very well how dangerous this is for your condition.

A short beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

As for Sylvia, just calm down. You’ve told me about her a lot in past sessions.

And in sheer terror, Oliver stammers:

OLIVER

I swear I am… I’m… I’m taking my own meds! I’m sure I never…

DR. BROOKS

Alright, can we just finish this session, and then I’ll prove to you how much you’ve really talked about her?

Oliver swallows hard, gives a helpless nod, and falls completely silent.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

Oliver, I know you trust my words more than anyone else’s. And since I’ve come to know the story so well from you…

A short beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

…And because I was certain she was the only one who could pull you out of all this…

A short beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

She wants to meet you here… right now…

Oliver’s eyes grow wide in utter bewilderment; marks of dread paint themselves vividly across his face and lips:

OLIVER

Who the fuck are you talking about? Who wants to meet me?

He laughs in disbelief, stuttering:

OLIVER (CONT’D)

Sylvia?! No, no… you can’t be fucking serious… how… when… how and where did you find her? How do you even know who she is when I’m still sure I haven’t said a single word about her?

He closes his eyes for a moment.

OLIVER (CONT’D)

…I was just about to tell you for the very first time today… you better not be fucking with me…

His voice chokes, a violent cough seizing him as a first scalding tear escapes his eye. He makes a move to leave, completely disregarding his doctor’s relentless attempts to persuade him otherwise.

And the moment he stands up, a gentle knock sounds at the door, and she walks in…

She enters, wearing a radiant red dress that he seems to have always adored on her, and which she seems to have always hated… a dress entirely out of place in that gray room, a room that seems to force the soul back to its Creator.

She walks in…

With her wavy black hair and confident eyes.

And she sits…

Taking the chair directly opposite him.

And she smiles…

This is SYLVIA.

INT. PSYCHIATRIST’S OFFICE – NIGHT

The melodies of ‘Swan Lake’ loop relentlessly, yet for the first time, Oliver does not notice, nor is he even annoyed. His panic seemed to have finally yielded its seat the moment he laid eyes on her.

OLIVER

Why… why did you leave? Why couldn’t I just… forget you?

She offers a mocking smile, glances at the doctor in feigned confusion, then turns her gaze toward him:

SYLVIA

You fucking serious? You still don’t know why after all this time?

A short beat.

SYLVIA (CONT’D)

I don’t think you ever really asked a real question in your fucking life… I… I actually don’t understand how long you intend to stay like this…

He looks at her with a weary gloom, his voice sharpening:

OLIVER

Enough… enough acting, you stupid… fucking… bitch… stop pretending to everyone that I was the one who hurt you… you just left because you wanted to, and to this day I just… I just wanna know why you left.

A short beat.

OLIVER (CONT’D)

I guess I was such a fool to think you might change after all these years… you just walked away, and I’ve been trapped in this shit ever since.

SYLVIA

You were in this shit long before you ever knew me, Oliver… wake up. Just wake the fuck up.

A short beat.

SYLVIA (CONT’D)

You ever realized, even once, that the state you’re in might have been the very fucking reason I left? I really can’t believe you never notice… and yet here you are, asking me why with such nerve. Fuck you, Oliver… shame on you.

DR. BROOKS

I’m sorry, I don’t wanna interrupt… but this isn’t really… the conversation I expected from you both at all, to be honest.

The doctor interjected, trying to make sense of what was unfolding, but neither of them paid his words any mind.

Oliver looks at him coldly, then immediately snaps his attention back to Sylvia in defiance:

OLIVER

You see me as a monster… don’t you?

She scrutinizes him with blatant contempt, as he continues:

OLIVER (CONT’D)

Now, that fucking monster you see has never been able to talk about how much you ruined his entire life… not even about you, just about the damage you fucking caused…

A short beat.

OLIVER (CONT’D)

That’s why I still can’t believe I ever said a word about you to Dr. Brooks… fucking liars.

She bursts into a laugh of pure disbelief, wishing she had the power to tear him to pieces right then and there.

SYLVIA

Then fucking speak up… just tell me how I hurt you. What makes you so fucking terrified to talk about the pain you claim I caused?

His voice thunders, shaking everything around them as he stands up in rage:

OLIVER

Guess what? because I was afraid of hurting your fucking feelings… I was… I was terrified someone might find out what you’re really like.

A short beat.

OLIVER (CONT’D)

I knew people would abandon you if they knew how fucking toxic you were.

He takes a breath, as he calms down a little:

OLIVER (CONT’D)

You know? I spent a hell of a lot of time asking myself what kept me from even talking about the scars you left behind… can you imagine that… even my right to express myself… you fucking stole that, too.

A short beat.

OLIVER (CONT’D)

To the point where I actually feel guilty just bringing it up with myself. You ever wonder what you turned me into?

He can feel her heart hammering, as she teeters on the brink of screaming:

SYLVIA

I’ve never, ever seen anyone this insane in my entire life… I’m the one who should be saying all this… these are my fucking words… I swear, these are my exact words. He’s… He’s literally the one who destroyed me.

Tears stream down her cheeks as she turns to the doctor, pointing a trembling finger at herself:

SYLVIA (CONT’D)

I said almost every single word of this, before…

Oliver roars in her face, cutting her off:

OLIVER

Before what, Sylvia?

SYLVIA

Before you fucking killed me, Oliver.

A beat.

SYLVIA (CONT’D)

Why you acting as if I fucking chose to leave? Alright, you wanna know why I left? It’s because you fucking killed me five years ago and ran away… I was a victim of one of your psychotic episodes… I left because you just… you just wanted me gone, Oliver.

A beat.

SYLVIA (CONT’D)

Believe me… you destroyed me long before that, Oliver… you made my life such a living hell that dying was a relief compared to spending the rest of my goddamned life with a schizophrenic like you.

She steadies herself, catching her breath for a brief moment before continuing:

SYLVIA (CONT’D)

I know you can’t believe I’m dead, but it’s the truth, Oliver.

She smiles, a smile where vengeance bled into pity:

SYLVIA (CONT’D)

That look of shock on your fucking face? It’ll never go away… you will feel it every… single… time you imagine me… because the second I walk out that door, you’ll forget everything, and I’ll just have to remind you all over again…

A short beat.

SYLVIA (CONT’D)

Because none of this is real… it’s entirely in your head… wake the fuck up, Oliver. Wake up!

… Wake up!

… Wake up!

… Wake up!

Voices multiply inside him until his skull feels on the verge of exploding. He bursts into tears, screaming out:

OLIVER

You’re lying again… I’m not sick, you skank. You’re sick. All of this is a lie. You’re nothing but a fucking liar, you stupid bitch.

DR. BROOKS

Oliver, are you alright?

OLIVER

Fucking say something, Doctor.

DR. BROOKS

Say what? I don’t understand any of this…

OLIVER

(Screaming)

Say it. Speak up.

DR. BROOKS

Speak up about what, Oliver? What happened?

INT. PSYCHIATRIST’S OFFICE – NIGHT

Oliver scans every corner of the room, but there is no one else to be found, only his doctor, who stepped closer, holding a glass of water to calm him down.

DR. BROOKS

You okay, Oliver? Alright, don’t worry… it happens to many patients, it’s okay, it’s okay.

Oliver looks at him with the last fraction of strength his body can muster:

OLIVER

Where’d she go?

DR. BROOKS

Who is it, Oliver? I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about?

Oliver swallows hard in a desperate attempt to believe his own mind, staring at the ceiling of that room with a manufactured indifference laced with misery:

OLIVER

Sylvia!

His doctor looks puzzled, taking a sip from the glass of water:

DR. BROOKS

Sylvia? I’m sorry, who is she?

And with the same deep misery:

OLIVER

The one who… the one who was… standing right in front of you a moment ago…

The doctor pauses, then offers a comforting tone:

DR. BROOKS

Okay, now you listen to me, Oliver… I totally understand what you’re going through… I truly do, but… you know I’ve been telling you to stick to your treatment recently so we can manage the severity of such episodes that have started to recur… but it’s alright, we’ll work on this together.

And like a rabid dog, Oliver lunges at his doctor, seizing him by his shirt collar in total breakdown:

OLIVER

(Screaming)

No fucking way all of this was in my head… Sylvia was right here a second ago… Where on earth could she have gone?

The doctor shoves Oliver to the ground with sudden malice, regaining his professional composure within seconds. He turns his back to Oliver, letting out a contemptuous laugh:

DR. BROOKS

(Mockingly)

In your fucking head… Sylvia, that pretty woman you killed, lives in your fucking head. You killed her just like…

He turns his face back toward Oliver, a face no longer handsome or serene, and continues:

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

Just like you killed me…

And gradually, the features of that bright, handsome doctor vanish, dissolving into a painfully familiar face that’s losing its luster piece by piece, features that Oliver recognizes all too well. They shift until they become an exact match. Identical to his own face, to Oliver’s face. And with that same contempt that has settled over the doctor’s face, and with the exact look of shock that Sylvia promised would never leave Oliver, the doctor continued:

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

You fucked up the only sane part of you… You killed me, Oliver… you blew it all away…

A beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

All my life… I wondered why you never grieved for me the way you did for Sylvia…

A beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

Even though I… I was the one you should’ve felt sad about, not her.

A beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

Just look at where you were and what you’ve become… you were a successful psychiatrist… way ahead of your fucking time…

A short beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

And now… you’re nothing but someone who can’t even tell what’s real and what’s not.

He smiles, a smile as though he had been waiting decades to utter those words.

OLIVER

Why you think I ruined my life on purpose? Why the hell would I want to ruin my own success with my own hands?

He said it with cold detachment, as if finally surrendering to every absolute truth… weeping as he surrendered to it all:

OLIVER (CONT’D)

(Crying)

I don’t… I just… I don’t know why I’ve become like this, or how, or when… All I know is that suddenly, this is who I am… you just can’t imagine how exhausting it is to believe all these delusions…

He wipes away his tears:

OLIVER (CONT’D)

And… the fact that parts of these delusions turn out to be real exhausts me even more… yet what’s eating me alive is that… nobody wants to understand anything…

He rises heavily from the floor, stepping closer to the doctor with a smile that masks his suffocation:

OLIVER (CONT’D)

You know? I had hope we could fix this together… just like you used to say…

The doctor smiles mockingly, asking in disdain:

DR. BROOKS

Together? You really still think you’re ever waking up from this? From the moment you gave up, you’ve been nothing but… a clueless coward.

A short beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

No need to try, Oliver… your mind is gonna kill you eventually, just like it killed me and Sylvia… Because I am you, Oliver… I am you.

Fury consumes Oliver. Losing all self-control, he tackles his doctor to the ground with every ounce of strength he possesses, pinning him down beneath his weight to immobilize him:

OLIVER

You’re right… nothing really matters anymore…

As if the entire universe had aligned for this exact moment, Oliver notices a sharp object lying on the floor right beside them; he picks it up with terrifying ease.

And swiftly…

He plunges it into his doctor’s heart with savage cruelty…

One stab after another…

A succession of relentless blows, his rage driving every strike…

A flurry of stabs, as though capable of snuffing out his inner fury…

The doctor smiles in victory, his eyes swelling with tears as he gasps his final breath:

DR. BROOKS

Good…

A beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

The world is finally rid of you…

A short beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

Didn’t I tell you… you didn’t… you didn’t even need to try, Oliver? Didn’t I tell you… your mind would kill you, just like it killed me and her?

A beat.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

And it really killed you, Oliver…

And within seconds, every trace of the doctor vanishes from beneath Oliver, who is still desperately trying to restrain him.

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

… And it really killed you, Oliver.

… And it really killed you, Oliver.

… And it really killed you, Oliver.

… And it really killed you, Oliver.

… And it really killed you, Oliver.

Moments later, Oliver shifts his gaze down toward his own chest, trembling violently, only to behold what he has never wished to see…

Those furious stabs he rained down upon his doctor…

Had never been directed at anyone else…

He has been plunging that blade into his own chest all along…

DR. BROOKS (CONT’D)

… I am you, Oliver!

… Just look at where you were and what you’ve become…

… you were a successful psychiatrist… way ahead of your fucking time…

… And now… you’re nothing but someone who can’t even tell what’s real and what’s not.

Blood gushes forth, staining every corner of the room…

That room he had always imagined to be gray…

That room he had always imagined to be spotless…

Tears spilled from his eyes…

He felt everything and its absolute opposite…

Relief and suffocation, death and life, heartbreak and contentment, remorse and certainty…

He felt it all…

While that room…

Slowly dissolved into an engulfing darkness…

Into a room untouched by light…

Beside him lay a plate filled with fruit…

And a knife slick with his own blood…

A room he had rarely bothered to clean…

Or perhaps simply never cared to clean…

Yet the only object he had painstakingly polished every single day…

Was that ornate glass plaque:

“Dr. Oliver Brooks”

Consultant Psychiatrist and Neurologist.

And abruptly…

The melodies of ‘Swan Lake’…

Fell silent.

THE END

The end credits roll.

“Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica begins to play.