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This screenplay is copyrighted to its author. All rights reserved. 
This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express 
written permission of the author.


                                       For Johnny

                                     By Topher Rhives 

               INT. BOYS BATHROOM - SCHOOL 


               We see nothing.  Only a blank screen.  A solitary word is 
               uttered.  Clear, simple, and direct.

                                     PAUL (V.O.)

               They shimmer on.  A lone teen.  JOHN (18) Sloppily dressed, 
               matted hair, and a considerable hefty build sits in a stall. 

                                     PAUL (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                         Spic, wop, kyke, nigger, kraut.
                         What do they all mean?  The hurt, 
                         anger, and violence that's thrown 
                         into them?  What's the bigger picture?

               His gaze slumps down.  In his hand rest a magnum.  It lays 
               heavy on his lap.

                                     PAUL (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                         I'm gonna let you in on a little 
                         secret.  There is none.
                         It's dicks being dicks.  Doesn't 
                         matter the reason.  Racism, 
                         homophobia, xenophobia, it all amounts 
                         to one thing - being a dick.

               He takes the gone and with it makes traces the holy trinity.

                         In the name of the Father, the Son, 
                         and the Holy spirit.
                         Fuck that shit.

               He cocks the magnum.  Tears stream down his face.  He turns 
               the gun on himself. 

               He looks up towards the ceiling as though praying to God.  
               His digital watch strikes - 12:01

                                     JOHN (CONT'D)
                         I'm sorry.

               He squeezes his eyes shut.  Embracing for impact.  He pulls 
               the trigger as we... 



                                                               SLAM CUT TO:

               INT. PAUL'S BEDROOM - MORNING

               PAUL (18) A rather well maintained young man who lays sprawled 
               on his bed.

               By his side lays a newspaper with a boldface headline that 
               reads: High School Tragedy. 

               His eyes explode open.

                                     PAUL (V.O.)
                         You can always trust you're best 
                         friend, right?

               Paul sits up slowly.  No point in keeping time today.


               Paul brushing his teeth.

               Putting the final touches on his outfit.

               Placing a couple magnums into his backpack.  

               Pouring a generous bowl of a generic brand cereal.

               INT. PAUL'S KITCHEN - MORNING

                                     PAUL (V.O.)
                         I'd always wished I would of given 
                         John's eulogy.  Instead he got 
                         reverend who-gives-a-shit to throw 
                         some bullshit around about how he's 
                         apparently a misguided youth.
                         Mourn him now, turn him into a 
                         statistic later.

               Paul, his mother, father sit solemnly shoveling food into 
               their mouths.  No one says anything.  They only eat.

               They eat not to enjoy but to survive.  Finally, Paul's father 
               breaks the silence.

                         How's John's family holding in there?

               He looks to the others.  Nothing.  

               Paul shoots him a nasty glance. 

                         They're not.


               The rest of the meal is eaten in silence.

                                                                    CUT TO:


                Paul kicks a empty coke can down the sidewalk.  A cigarette 
               hangs loosely between his fingers.

               Sporadically he takes a few puffs of it.  

                                     PAUL (V.O.)
                         The Green Mile.
                         That last mile until salvation.  The 
                         longest mile a man will ever walk.

               A car passes him.  Beat up and filled with teens it speeds 
               past.  They shout something but it's lost to the wind.

               He looks up.  A large high school comes into view.

               Kids climb the grassy knoll, buses park, and the day readies 
               to begin.

               Paul whispers something under his breath.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         For Johnny.

                                                                    CUT TO:

               INT. SCHOOL - DAY

               People linger in the halls.  Moving at a slow, motionless 

               Books are crammed into lockers.  Shoes shuffle on the dank 
               linoleum floor.  Same old, same old.

               Paul moves through this sea of teens, the waves of bodies 
               crash against the walls and spill out into the classrooms.

               In his hands he holds a pile of textbooks.  Resting on top 
               is a Polaroid snapshot of John. 

               A guy bumps past him.  His books spill out onto the floor.

                         Move it, man.

               Paul says nothing.  He glares at the kid then bends downs to 
               pick up his books.

               He reaches to grab them when another hand covers his own.


               He pulls back, confused at first.  He slowly looks up into a 
               delicate face.  A teenage Helen of Troy.  SOPHIA (17)

               She looks at him, sympathetic, and perplexed by this withdrawn 

               She smiles.  Her gaze then falls onto the photo of John.

                         I'm not a fag.

               She looks up at him.  A tad disgusted at the comment.

               Paul quickly realizes his mistake.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         I mean I'm not gay.

                         I know. 

               Paul takes a breath.

                         Would you talk to me if I were?

                         Doesn't make a difference to me.

               She begins to continue when Paul cuts her short.  

                         I wouldn't.

               She brushes back her auburn hair.

                         Really, why's that?

                         Look around, no one likes a fag.  No 
                         one like anyone to tell the truth.

                         I like people.

                         Bullshit.  You tolerate people.                        *
                         John liked people, he was the only 
                         one who actually did.  And guess 
                         what.  No one like John.

                         Who's John?


               He looks at her.  Perplexed how she might not know the kid 
               whose name has been plastered over every newspaper in the 

               He makes an impromptu gun with his finger, points his to his 
               head and pantomimes shooting it.

                         Boy's bathroom.  Last week.

               Sophia says nothing.

                         I'm sorry.

                         Feeling guilty, eh?

               She shoves his books towards him.  They slide across the 

               She stands up and begins to walk away.

                         I knew him.

               She leaves Paul sitting there.

                         Wait, I didn't catch your name.

               He looks up.  Too late she's gone.  Leaving him a lone fish 
               in an empty sea.

               The bell rings.

                                                                    CUT TO:

               INT. LIBRARY - DAY

               The room is sparsely filled with students milling about.  A 
               few sit at the tables scattered throughout the room.

               In the far corner Paul sits.  His backpack clung tightly 
               near his side.   

               Five minutes left.  Paul waits eagerly for the clock to 

               Four minutes, three minutes, two minutes... 

               Sophia, the girl from early walks in.

                         Oh no, oh god no.


               He knows he cannot back down.  She smiles when she sees him 
               and begins to move closer.

               Go away he thinks.  He only manages to smile back.

               Zero hour.  Sophia sits next to him.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)


                         Do you believe in fate?

                         God, you mean.

               Paul shakes his head.

                         No, not an imaginary friend, but 
                         fate.  Destiny.

                         I believe we can choose.

                         Can we now?

               He unzips his backpack and pulls out a glock.  She gasp.  
               Shocked by the sight of it.

                         Oh shit, that's not real is it?

               He takes aim on a student.

                         Want to find out?

                         Don't, god, please, don't.

               He sets it down.  She shutters in her seat.


               No reply.  He draws up the gun again.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         I said are you scared.

               She whimpers.


                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         I said are you fucking scared!

               He fires a shot into the ceiling.  The people in the library 
               turn towards him.

               He sits back down.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         We all have to die sometime.

               Sophia burst out into tears.  Could this be her last final 

               A few students run towards the door.  He fires.  Three 
               definitive shots.

               Paul swings his backpack on to his back and jumps up onto 
               the table.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         Alright, everyone whose in here get 
                         to the center table.
                         You don't and I blow your fucking 
                         brains out.

               Seven students nervously move towards the large oak table.  
               Some cannot keep their gaze of the three bodies that lay 
               collapsed in a pile of blood by the exit.

               Paul whips up a newspaper from the front desk.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         You all knew John, didn't you?

               No one answers.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         Didn't you?

               A guy looks up.


               Paul walks over to the table.  A couple huddles together.  
               He snatches up the girlfriend.

                         Good, good.  Alright, this is a test.  
                         A game of fate.  A game of trust.

               He hands a gun to the boyfriend.  Then turns his own gun on 
               the guys girlfriend.


                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         Do you trust God?

               The boyfriend holds the gun in his hand.  It's cold and heavy.

               He takes aim on Paul. 

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         There's one bullet in there.
                         Want to risk it?

               He turns the aim away.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         I didn't think so.
                         Everyone put your heads down.

               He motions for the boyfriend to pick up the gun.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         I want you to find the bullet.

               The boyfriend doesn't move.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         Do it or I blow your head off.

               He slowly gets up.  He points the gun on another student.  A 
               mousy frazzled hair girl.  CLICK.  No bullet.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         The average glock holds six shots.

               He moves to the next person, Sophia.  CLICK.  No bullet.

               Third person.  A jock.  ClICK.  No bullet.

               Fourth and fifth.  ClICK.  No bullet.  Paul throws the 
               girlfriend down into the next chair.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         Sixth bullet my friend.

                         I can't.

               Paul clicks back the hammer.

                         Can't you?

               She looks up at him.  Tears stream down her face.  She mouths 
               out the words "I love you".

               He turns the gun on himself.  CLICK.  No bullet.


               He falls to his knees the gun clatters on the floor.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         You loose.

               He pulls back the trigger.  BAM!  A single shot to the head.  
               The girlfriend falls to the floor.  Dead.

               The boyfriend takes aim on Paul.  CLICK.  CLICK.  CLICK.

               It's empty.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         No bullet.

               He rushes over to the girlfriends body.  He chokes back tears 
               as he holds her close.  Gently kissing her hand and cradling 
               her head in his arms.

                         I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

                He makes a move to lunge towards Paul.  Paul clicks back 
               the hammer of his gun and the Boyfriend stops in his tracks.

               He stands in shock near his girlfriend. 

                         Now you know loss.

               In the background a siren is heard from outside.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         11th hour, I guess.

               He hands Sophia the gun.

                                     PAUL (CONT'D)
                         Bring me to my salvation.


               He looks at her.  Intent.  A young man, scared.

                         Do it.

                         What about forgiveness, do you want 
                         to die in sin?

                         The bullet is my rosary.  

                         I don't even know you're name.


                         It'll say on my grave.

               She pulls back the trigger.  Outside the room, Police rush 
               in, arms drawn - readied.

                         Don't you at least want to know mine?

               Paul nods.

                                     SOPHIA (CONT'D)
                         It's Sophia.

               A brief pause.  

                         For Johnny

               Sophia tightens her hand on the trigger.  She turns her head 
               and pulls back the trigger. 

               The shot rings out as the police kick open the door.

               Paul slumps down onto the floor - dead.  The police, having 
               just come in open fire.

               Sophia falls back.


               The screen fades to black as we hear the officers tending to 
               the other teens.

                         Everything will be alright.  
                         Everything will be just fine. 

               FADE TO BLACK:

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