Oh, I learned so much at school today, mama…
DREAMER’S DISEASE: a flash-fiction zombie horror screenplay
Your killer golf swing bought me time to reflect on all the dreams that never came to be.
FADE IN
EXT. SUPERMARKET — DUSK
A middle-aged woman, SUSAN, scrambles out of the entrance of a COSTCO carrying two paper bags full of bandages and cleaning supplies.
As SUSAN makes haste towards the nearest bus stop, we PAN UP to a giant billboard sign that warns of tainted fish oils in eye-catching bold text:
STAY OMEGA-3 FREE!
The SCORE fades gradually, transitioning into the natural sounds and ambiance of the busy streets, followed by a gradual fade in of a faint heartbeat. SUSAN is in a state of panic but keeping her composure.
(Turn your subwoofers on for this...)
Her heartbeats get louder and faster as SUSAN rummages through her purse for coins. A series of close-up JUMP CUTS reveal that her search yields not a nickel or dime.
SUSAN
Well, shit. At least I’m alive.
The bus arrives. The doors open. SUSAN steps onto the bus with a beaming smile and, feigning the ignorance of a tourist, makes her way down the aisle.
BUS DRIVER
Excuse me, ma’am! Do you have a bus ticket or fare?
SUSAN
(Displaying her bare forearm, smiling)
I have an Omega-3 Free tattoo!
BUS DRIVER
Congratulations. I do too. Unfortunately, tattoos don’t cover bus fare.
SUSAN
Please, this is an emergency. I used all my money on the Uber—
BUS DRIVER
Your beating heart doesn’t entitle you to a free ride. Nor does the oxygen that flows through your arteries. The rules apply just the same, living or undead.
A ZOMBIFIED MAN sitting in the front row points a limp, accusatory finger at SUSAN, contorting his decaying face into an expression that resembles disapproval.
ZOMBIFIED MAN
Get off the bus and look in the mirror, you feckless glob of cells!
SUSAN
Pardon me?
ZOMBIFIED MAN
You animate beings are all the same. Breathe up all the oxygen yet still want the world served on a silver platter.
SUSAN
Monsieur Zombie, I respect your right to express yourself but denounce your freedom to smell as vile as you do currently.
ZOMBIFIED MAN
(Scoffs and looks out the window)
SUSAN
This is an emergency. My friend just got bit by her husband. She’s waiting for me. She’ll turn if I don’t—
BUS DRIVER
I’m sorry, miss. Rules are rules. Society would crumble and decay without them.
The BUS DRIVER points to the doors, and we SMASH CUT to SUSAN stranded on the sidewalk, the bus driving away. SUSAN grabs her phone and starts dialling as she walks briskly toward home. Rain begins to pour. SUSAN hoists the bags up her arms, locking it between her biceps and forearms as she holds the phone to her ear.
SUSAN
Mary?
MARY
(over the phone)
Susan, where are you?
SUSAN
On my way. On foot. The bus driver was being a real stickler.
MARY
It’s too late. It’s happening. I can feel it.
SUSAN
No… don’t say that. Hang in there. I’ll be there as soon as—
MARY
There’s a pungent odour here, and I can’t tell if it’s from my flesh wound or from, you know, Eddy.
SUSAN
Is he still where we —
MARY
Yes. Behind the couch. I’m too scared to check, but I haven’t heard a groan or mumble since you…
(MARY makes a swoosh sound.)
SUSAN
So Eddy is —
MARY
Eddy is deady.
(Beat)
Well, more dead. Officially dead.
SUSAN
No longer undead.
MARY
Death finally did us part. Five years of marriage, Susan. And what was it all for? All our aspirations, ambitions, and fantasies of making ourselves a family. Then boom… zombie apocalypse.
SUSAN
Because of tainted fish oils, no less.
MARY
I did everything I was taught, Susan. Followed every bit of sound advice I was spoon fed growing up. And for what? Just to die like this? It’s a bitter pill to swallow.
SUSAN
I’ll be there soon, Mary. Hang in there.
MARY
I wanted to be a screenwriter when I was little. Or an actress. Or a director.
SUSAN
Just breathe, okay? Breathe in and out. Count to three for each inhale.
MARY
By the time you get home, I won’t be me anymore.
SUSAN
No! Stay with me, please.
MARY
Thank you for intervening, Suze. Your killer golf swing bought me time to reflect on all the dreams that never came to be.
SUSAN
Stay with me.
MARY
It feels like I’m on a bus, coming home from a long, difficult day at school. Do you know that feeling? And then thinking maybe tomorrow will be easier because you’re wiser now than earlier that day and all the days prior. Oh, I learned so much at school today, mama…
SUSAN
Mary, it’s me, Susan. You still remember who I am, right? Because I’m not your mother.
MARY
(slurring)
I learned so much today, mama…
SUSAN
(eyes welling up with tears, lips quivering)
What did you learn today, Mary?
MARY
Once I put my childish dreams to rest,
the inner child in me perished next,
and, unbeknownst to me and Eddy,
we were already walking deady
before it became somewhat trendy…
SUSAN
Goodbye, Mary. You were a wonderful friend.
MARY
Hurry up and get your butt over here. I’m salivating already, wondering what it might taste like…
SUSAN
Don’t do this.
MARY
…brains.
CUT TO BLACK
