SLEEPLESS

1 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - EVENING 1

A dorm room wrecked by the chaos of finals week.

On one half, COMPUTER SCIENCE TEXTBOOKS strewn across a bed,

one dangling dangerously off the side. Above the headboard, a
BISEXUAL PRIDE flag, lined at the bottom with pictures of
KIARA PRINCE, the type of hipster nerd girl who looks like
she belongs in her computer science major, and her beautiful
girlfriend, DIANA DANVERS.

On the other side, the bed is unmade, blankets crumpled. Hung

on the wall are FAMILY PHOTOGRAPHS and PAINT SAMPLES, all
arranged by color and underlined by a string of CHRISTMAS
LIGHTS.

Near the foot of the bed, meticulously designed CLASS NOTES

are folded into the blankets. On a nearby small table, TWO
VIALS are lined up: a blue one labeled ‘SEROTONIN’ and a pink
one labeled ‘DOPAMINE.’ Behind the vials is a framed HONOR
ROLL CERTIFICATE.

NISHA DANDEKAR, an Asian Indian American student majoring in

design, sits on the corner of her bed, a NOTEBOOK for her
bioethics class in her lap, TABLET to her side, and LOOSE
NOTECARDS in a semi-circle.

Her hair is pulled up, showing a NEUROTRANSMITTER IMPLANT at

the base of her neck; the color within is clear.

NISHA
(muttering)
The discovery of a renewable energy
mimicking the photosynthetic
process in plants led to the mining
adenosine, which is a primary
component of ATP, from humans...
Evolution of biotechnology...

Her finger skims across the highlighted notes. These notes

detail the history of the world that Nisha lives in,
describing a technological revolution where energy was
created by synthetically recreating ATP. Although the
phosphate groups could be artificially created, it was
easiest and cheapest to extract the adenosine from humans.

This lead to the creation of an implant that could make such

transfers simple, one whose usage was later extended – the
very neurotransmitter implant on Nisha’s neck.

NISHA (CONT’D)
Exchanges of simple
neurotransmitters lead to more
complex transfers...
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 2.

She closes her eyes as she tests herself.

NISHA (CONT’D)

An example would be trading sleep-

positive neurotransmitters, orexin,
for sleep-negative
neurotransmitters, adenosine...
requires a dual – no, no, bilateral
– exchange to reduce... dose size?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Her eyes flash open.

Nisha turns off the timer on her tablet, checks her answer
and relaxes with relief at being correct, and swipes on the
attached notification: BIOETHICS FINAL - 30 MINUTES.

On the tablet, she swipes through different pages: SLEEP

TRACKER, seven hours a night; MESSAGES, most from family
members; FINANCES, $162 in her bank account and a credit card
that is ten dollars away from being maxed out; CALENDAR, a
schedule of upcoming study sessions, work study shifts, and
finals.

She settles on ACADEMIC PROGRESS. She checks her grades - all

A’s and high B’s - and logs her study time, lets her hair
down, then tucks the HAIR TIE and notebooks in her BACKPACK.

Nisha reaches for the Serotonin vial on her side table and
grabs a SYRINGE. She pulls the blue liquid to a marked amount
before inserting it into a clear tube that runs back into her
hair.

Quickly, she types in a familiar code to the tablet,

737686646, and the color drains from the tube.

NISHA (CONT’D)
A lot of history for a tiny device.

She neatly winds the tube back around the implant. As she
stands and puts her backpack on, there is a glimpse of the
implant. The color has shifted from clear to blue.

2 INT. UNIVERSITY HALLWAY - EVENING 2

The implant on the back of Nisha’s neck has faded to a

lighter blue, peeking out as she settles down against the
wall next to a doorway, backpack nestled against her.

Her tablet rests in her lap, showing digital flash cards. She
silently mouths the answers. A COFFEE CUP sits beside her.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 3.

PRESTON
Yo, Nisha!

PRESTON STERLING, a muscular dude wearing a short sleeve

button-down and salmon-colored shorts, waves at her. His walk
is verging on a stumble.

He sits down next to her.

PRESTON (CONT’D)
You’ve got the notes from last
class?

Nisha nods, rummaging through her backpack before handing him

the notebook, and resumes the flash cards.

Preston glances at the length of the notes – flipping one

page, then another, then another...

PRESTON (CONT’D)
Highlights?

Nisha sighs, but her expression is unsurprised. She turns off

her tablet and begins searching for something in her
backpack.

NISHA
According to Wiley, the Fitzpatrick
v Bertsch case is going to be
important.

Preston stares cluelessly.

NISHA (CONT’D)
The Supreme Court case that made
human chemical mining legal?

PRESTON
Oh, right, right.

Nisha victoriously pulls the hair tie from her backpack.

NISHA
(As she ties up her hair)
There’s probably going to be an
essay question on volunteerism and
adenosine, specifically how it
impacted the biotech industry.

As she speaks, Preston notices her implant.

 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 4.

PRESTON
(interrupting)
Hey, is that a neurotransmitter
implant?

NISHA
(touching the implant
absentmindedly)
Yeah, it is.

Preston turns ever so slightly. He has one as well.

PRESTON
Your parents into the human
chemical mining business, too?

NISHA
Not quite. Mine’s for medical
reasons. Hormonal imbalances after
head trauma in an accident.

Preston nods slightly. He’s listening, but he also has a

goal.

PRESTON
I’ll buy some sleep from you.

NISHA
Sorry, what?

PRESTON
Buy some sleep? Just a couple of
hours, three should be enough. We
talked about the sleep exchange
mechanisms right after the midterm,
I think, trading neurotransmitters
that make you feel tired for ones
that make you feel awake using a
dual exchange.

NISHA
Bilateral.

PRESTON
What?

NISHA
It requires a bilateral exchange,
not a dual one. And it’s...
(hesitates)
I don’t think it’s a good idea.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 5.

PRESTON
Come on, Nish. My roomie turned
twenty-one yesterday, so we threw
him a big kegster...

NISHA
So you got smashed and didn’t
sleep.

PRESTON
Yeah.

His expression is pleading. She softens but her apologetic

expression says it all.

NISHA
I’m sorry, Preston, but... I’m on
scholarship here, and I can’t risk
getting in trouble.

PRESTON
Nobody would know, and, even if
somebody did find out, I’m sure
that my dad could just donate a
building or something. But they
don’t even enforce these kind of
things.

Nisha shakes her head.

NISHA
I’m sorry.

Preston begins to stand, stumbling ever so slightly.

NISHA (CONT’D)
Wait-

Preston stops immediately.

NISHA (CONT’D)
Here. Take this.

She hands him the coffee cup. He takes it graciously before

stumbling away.

Nisha slowly returns to her studies but seems more discontent

than before.

3 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT 3

Nisha enters, drained from the exam, as Kiara sits on her

bed, playing a video game on her computer.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 6.

KIARA
You just got back from your
Bioethics final, didn’t you? How’d
it go?

Nisha sets her backpack down on the foot of her bed before
crawling in.

NISHA
It went well. How was your Software
Engineering exam?

As she speaks, Nisha pulls her tablet out of her backpack,

along with a few miscellaneous NOTES from her Bioethics
Final. They remain abandoned by her side.

KIARA
It was a disaster, but Andrews
wrote it, so I didn’t really expect
anything different...

Before Nisha can respond, a RINGING erupts from her tablet,

accompanied by a notification that reads ‘CALL: FAVORITE
SISTER.’

Kiara nods her understanding and returns to her video game as

Nisha puts in WIRELESS EARBUDS and answers the call.

NISHA
Mena!

MENA
How was your final?

NISHA
It was good. A little harder than
expected, but nothing I wasn’t
prepared for.

MENA
Well, I’m so proud of you, Mom’s
proud of you, and I’m sure Dad
would be, too.

NISHA
Thanks.

A brief pause.

NISHA (CONT’D)
Why are you calling so late? It’s
nearly one in the morning there.
You’re never up this late.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 7.

MENA
There is something I need to tell
you... Mom wasn’t planning on
saying anything because she didn’t
want it to distract you from your
final.

NISHA
(cautiously)
What is it?

MENA
(with difficulty)
The school district has been facing
budget cuts, and the arts
department was the first to go...
and there is no need for an
instrument repair technician if
there are no instruments to
repair... Mom got laid off.

NISHA
Oh.

MENA
And I know that we had all talked
about trying to submit the initial
deposit so you could study abroad
next fall, but... It would be a
miracle if we were even able to
still fly Grandma and Grandpa out
here for Christmas, let alone pay
the bills.

Nisha touches her Christmas lights wistfully and pauses when

she realizes that one has gone out.

NISHA
But what about Asha and Hiral?

Her finger runs along two children smaller than her on one of
the many family photographs hanging on her wall.

MENA
Mom hasn’t told them yet either.

NISHA
They deserve to have a nice
Christmas. We all do. You, me, Mom,
Grandmother, Grandfather...
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 8.

MENA
This is just the way life goes
sometimes... but we will make it
through.

Nisha notices a salmon-colored paint sample taped to her

wall, identical in shade to Preston’s shorts. It prompts her
to open the financial tab on her tablet.

NISHA
I know.
(a beat)
I have some money in my account
that you could have. It’s not much,
but if it will help...

MENA
No, Nish. Mom wouldn’t let you;
That money is strictly for school.
Just take care of yourself, and we
will worry about the rest of the
family. I love you.

NISHA
I love you, too.

There is a CLICK as the call ends, and Nisha stares hard at

the financial tab on the tablet.

She finally goes to compose a message to Preston. Hey, I know

I said I wasn’t selling any sleep earlier today, but I
changed my mind. If you or any of your friends need some,
just let me know.

Her finger hovers over the ‘Send’ option, but she hesitates.
Her attention falls on a page of her Bioethic Notes. There is
only one highlighted section on the page: Minor exchanges are
only allowed in the presence of a medical professional to
prevent incorrect transactions or misunderstandings.
Unauthorized neurotransmitter exchanges made without a
medical professional are illegal unless deemed necessary by
life-threatening circumstances.

She glances at the photo of her family. Runs her finger

across it longingly.

She throws the Bioethics Notes away and presses ‘Send.’

Her tablet PINGS as he responds almost immediately: good bc

ill need the m

Nisha messages back: Tomorrow then?

 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 9.

4 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT 4

Kiara shrugs on a jacket as Nisha looks up from her tablet,

distracted by the movement and clearly nervous.

NISHA
Why are you still here? I thought
you were supposed to meet Diana for
your date half an hour ago.

KIARA
Yeah, our reservation got pushed
back a bit. Do you need anything
while we’re out?

NISHA
No, I think I’m good, thanks.

Kiara gives her a wave before leaving, and Nisha checks her
Calendar on her tablet.

She reduces study sessions and increases the amount of sleep

planned. There are also three new entries: Selling to Chad,
Selling to Theodore, and Selling to Bryan.

Sudden KNOCKING. Nisha jumps up and opens the door, which

reveals Preston, looking a more out of it than any student
should be during finals week.

She stares at him wide-eyed, panic evident.

PRESTON
You okay, Nish?

She nods. Preston begins to unwind the cord attached to his

neurotransmitter implant; Nisha copies him exactly. He pulls
a NEUROTRANSMITTER IMPLANT CONNECTOR from his pocket and
connects their cords.

Nisha opens a number pad on her tablet.

NISHA
There’s an exchange code, isn’t
there?

PRESTON
Yeah, there is. Yours is going to
be seven-five-three-three-seven-one-
three.

As Nisha inserts that code into her tablet, he inputs 7533703

into his CELL PHONE. The exchange begins.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 10.

Her neurotransmitter implant begins blue, his begins red, and

the end result is a deep purple. Preston immediately looks
visibly less tired.

PRESTON (CONT’D)
Thanks, Nish. It’s nice to know
somebody’s got my back.

She smiles softly and then yawns.

5 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT 5

Nisha sits propped against pillows on her bed, notes for a

Design Theory final spread upon her lap. Two cups of coffee
sit on her bedside.

Her tablet DINGS, immediately followed by a PING.

A notification is centered: SUBMIT DESIGN THEORY FINAL PAPER -

DUE TOMORROW.

Nisha ignores it to respond to the message beneath it. It is

from an unknown sender and reads: hey, heard you were selling
zzz’s. names nick. ill buy 4 hrs tmrw at $200/hr.

She hesitates. Then she does the math in her head.

NISHA
(whispering)
Eight-hundred dollars.

She responds: Yeah, okay. Where should I meet you?

Above her, another Christmas light goes dark.

6 INT. LIBRARY STUDY ROOM - NIGHT 6

Although the outside of the study room is bustling with

activity, the room itself is still. Dark. Silent. NICK
WALLACE, wearing a jacket with the hood up, has a computer in
his lap, brightness up more than necessary.

The door GROANS as Nisha enters, already looking fairly

tired, letting in a stream of light.

It fades as the door shuts behind her.

NISHA
Are you Nick?

He nods, setting his computer aside. It reveals a

straightforward document, filled with COMPLEX CODING.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 11.

Nisha begins unwinding her neurotransmitter implant tube. He

does the same.

NISHA (CONT’D)
(uncomfortable)
So, I, uh... I have four hours of
sleep for you. They were very
restful.

She pulls a NEUROTRANSMITTER IMPLANT CONNECTOR from her back

pocket. As she connects the two tubes, she stifles a yawn and
blinks the sleep from her eyes.

Nisha pulls her tablet from her backpack, now empty of all
schoolwork. She ignores the same notification as before,
SUBMIT DESIGN THEORY FINAL PAPER - DUE IN ONE HOUR, and
closes out of her Sleep Tracker, which reveals her sleeping
average has increased from seven hours to twelve.

She opens the numerical pad and begins to enter the code -
7533 - before she falters. Begins again - 7433. She shakes
her head slightly. Frustrated.

NISHA (CONT’D)
Do you remember the code for the
exchange? It doesn’t seem to be
working for me. I’m still... kind
of new to this.

It’s obvious that Nick already knows this.

NICK
The code is 7355703.

Nisha nods her thanks and inputs the code into her tablet.
ERROR. Does so again. ERROR.

NICK (CONT’D)
I can fix it.

She passes her tablet to Nick.

Unbeknownst to Nisha, as he is intentionally angling the

device away, he types in 7687232633, and the application
freezes for a minute before revealing the source code.

He enters text under different subsections: ACCESS POINTS,

NEUROTRANSMITTERS ENABLED, OVERRIDE.

He scrolls to another one. ACCEPTED CODES. He browses the

list: {NeurotransmitterC10H12N2O:If737686646}
{NeurotransmitterC8H11NO2:If36726463}, and many similar
others.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 12.

Nick adds: {Enzyme3544:If3699633544}.

NICK (CONT’D)
Here. It’s done.

He exits the source code of Nisha’s tablet and types in

36996335441. He returns it before typing in 36996335440 into
his computer.

The transfer begins, but it is not an bilateral exchange;

dark liquid seeps from Nisha’s neurotransmitter implant into
his, staining the clear tube dark.

The usually clear liquid inside of Nisha’s neurotransmitter

implant remains murky as he transfers her the eight-hundred
dollars. Her tablet CHIRPS.

NICK (CONT’D)
Thanks.

Nisha seems visibly weakened from the exchange and is very

much on-edge.

NISHA
Yeah.

Nisha opens her mouth to say something more before she

hurries away, eager to leave the unnerving experience behind
her.

7 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT 7

On Nisha’s desk, CLASS NOTES are piled upon TEXTBOOKS. Coffee

rings stain the paper on many of them, and many half-filled
coffee cups linger.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Nisha’s tablet is partially obscured.

Her hand rests upon it as she deeply sleeps at her desk.

There are a stream of notifications that have passed without
response: WAKE-UP ALARM - MISSED. WAKE-UP ALARM - MISSED.
WAKE-UP ALARM - MISSED. SELLING TO LIZ - MISSED. WORK STUDY -
MISSED.

In the background, the Fiances tab is open: $1,175.00. A

chart beneath the number reveals it is the most money she has
ever had.

Unaware, Nisha sleeps on. Her breathing is now UNEVEN,

heavier than before. Her neurotransmitter implant remains
tinged grey.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 13.

Behind her, another Christmas lights winks out.

8 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT 8

Nisha sits on the bed with a textbook across her lap. Kiara
brings her a CUP OF COFFEE, which Nisha graciously accepts.

Nisha tightly the coffee, sipping at it frequently. It does

not ease the visible bags beneath her eyes.

Her tablet PINGS, and she pries it from underneath the

textbook. A message from Mena: Hey Nish. I just wanted to let
you know that we made rent on the apartment, and there is a
small amount left over. It looks like there is a chance we
might have the whole family together for Christmas after all.

Another PING: Good luck with your studying.

Nisha smiles softly and opens the Finances tab, sighing when
she realizes there will be enough.

A THROATY COUGH lodges in her throat, and she sets down the
tablet as she reaches with shaky hands for her cup of coffee.

When the cough subsides, she YAWNS. Eyelids drooping.

Her tablet PINGS for the third time, a message from Preston
this time: Yo, Nish, I’ve got a final tomorrow where I only
need a 25% to pass. You selling?

She hesitates for a moment. Looks the family photographs on

the wall, then the textbook on her lap. YAWNS. She responds:
My biggest final is in two days and I’m exhausted, so I don’t
think so... Maybe next semester?

Another PING. I’ve got another seller. Little pricier,

though, so let me know if you change your mind.

Nisha resumes studying, taking another sip of her coffee

before launching into another coughing attack.

Another light disappears from the string of Christmas lights.

9 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - EVENING 9

Nisha sits on the floor next to her bed, on the verge of

falling asleep; Kiara sits on her desk, studying flash cards.
WIRELESS EARBUDS rest in her ears.

Nisha’s tablet makes a new sound, a TRILL, taking them both

by surprise. The notification reads: GRADE REPORT - UPDATED.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 14.

Nisha immediately bolts upright and opens the Academic

Progress tab. Most of her grades have remained the same - A’s
and high B’s. The Design Theory grade has dipped to a low C.

Her expression shatters.

KIARA
Everything alright?

Nisha submits to a series of coughs before she shakes her

head ‘no.’ She is visibly sleep deprived. Another cough
lodges in her throat.

Kiara gets up and crosses the room to Nisha’s desk.

NISHA
My grade in Design Theory dropped
to a C.

She passes the tablet to Kiara, trying to subtly wipe a few

frustrated tears.

KIARA
I mean, I know a C isn’t exactly
your usual, but... it’s still
passing. You put too much pressure
on yourself; you don’t have to be
perfect.

Kiara returns the tablet to Nisha.

NISHA
(quietly)
I do, though.

Kiara’s quizzical look is enough of a question.

NISHA (CONT’D)
Mena and Asha and Hiral... I’m the
example for them. I’m the first
person in my family to go to a
university since my grandparents
immigrated here from Mumbai, and I
have to show them that anybody from
any background can achieve whatever
they set their mind to.

Kiara softens.

KIARA
A C doesn’t change that. You are
still enough, still doing great.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 15.

Kiara looks gently at Nisha before glancing around their

room.

KIARA (CONT’D)
But I don’t understand. Design
Theory is your favorite class and
your highest grade.

NISHA
(ashamed)
I forgot to turn in an assignment.

A beat. Nisha coughs.

KIARA
That’s not like you, Nish. You’ve
been weird the past few days, and
it’s not just because of the stress
of finals. What’s going on? Really?

Nisha absentmindedly puts her hair up using a hair tie

secured around her wrist.

NISHA
I’ve been... I’ve been selling
sleep.

KIARA
Selling sleep? That was one of the
topics I helped you study for your
Bioethics final, wasn’t it?

NISHA
(nodding)
Yeah. It was.

KIARA
Nisha... that’s illegal, and not
like jaywalking or a speeding
ticket. That’s a felony.

NISHA
I know.
(defeated)
I know... But... My family needs my
help, and I can help them this way.
I can help give them what they
deserve, and they deserve better
than what they have now, Kiara.

Nisha begins coughing again, her entire body trembling as she

does so. Kiara offers Nisha a nearby bottle of water, which
she gratefully accepts.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 16.

KIARA
(softly)
But is it worth all of this?

Nisha remains silent, and Kiara returns to her perch upon her
bed to study flash cards. She puts in the wireless earbuds.

NISHA
It has to be.

Another light dims on the string of Christmas lights.

10 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT 10

Class notes. Previous exams. Flashcards. Textbooks. Study

guides. Altogether, a graveyard of hours passed as Nisha
continues to study, tethered to her bed.

Where coffee mugs once rested, empty energy drinks now lurk.
Without glancing up, Nisha snags an unopened energy drink and
fervently urges it down.

She yawns.

Frustrated with her ongoing exhaustion, she opens a new one

and is about to bring it to her lips when another coughing
fit arrives.

It finally subsides. Nisha continues her studies.

Before she can reach for the textbook, she notices a nearby
SHEET OF LINED PAPER, covered in handwritten calculations. It
estimates that she would need a 94% on the final to get an
‘A’ in the overall course.

Nisha glances around at the chaos surrounding her, breathing

escalating. Eyelids drooping. A hoarse cough in her throat.

She finally gives into her exhaustion.

The Christmas lights flicker before another goes out.

11 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT 11

Nisha jolts awake. The rapid breathing transitions into

hoarse coughing.

When it softens, she reaches for her tablet. On it, a series

of notifications: DESIGN THEORY FINAL - 8 HOURS. RESEARCH
SOURCES. DESIGN THEORY FINAL - 12 HOURS. STUDY FLASH CARDS.
DESIGN THEORY FINAL - 16 HOURS. REVIEW STUDY GUIDE. DESIGN
THEORY FINAL - 20 HOURS.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 17.

Nisha is horrified when she realizes that she has slept

through all of them, trembling at the number of unread notes.

Despite this, she yawns.

Nisha ties up her hair with a hair tie around her wrist,
resentment in every twist of the band.

She yawns again.

Frustration manifests as anger, and she hurls her tablet

against the wall.

Nisha takes a moment to collect herself. Her eyes soften.

She finally gets up, swaying on her feet as she stands, and
gingerly collects her tablet, now with a spiderweb of cracks.

Sluggishly, she returns to her bed and picks up a page of

notes. She skims over it with unsteady eyes. Blinks a few
times before trying to read it again.

Her body sags into the mattress. Nisha rubs her eyes and
stifles yet another yawn.

There is a pause, a moment of hesitation.

Nisha reaches for her tablet and composes a message to

Preston: Hey, you mentioned yesterday that you knew of
another person selling sleep... Do you still have their
contact information?

Hardly any time passes before he responds with a PING:

Course. How much you buying?

Nisha picks up the piece of paper that calculates what

percentage she would need to raise her grade.

The string of Christmas lights disappears into darkness.

12 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - EVENING 12

Nisha enters into her room and settles onto the bed with legs
curled beneath her, course notes in her lap. Her hair is
pulled up, and her neurotransmitter implant is colored a deep
purple, indicative of a sleep transfer.

Her tablet DINGS, announcing, DESIGN THEORY FINAL - 4 HOURS.

With jittery fingers, she discards the notification and
returns to studying.

Still exhausted, she rubs her eyes and reaches for the energy
drink beside her, pausing for a moment to cough.
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 18.

She continues on, eyes glazing over information.

Her tablet CHIRPS, and it takes her a few moments to process

before she clicks on the corresponding message.

As she reads it, a bank statement, she freezes.

Current Balance: $145.

NISHA
No, no, please, no...

She yawns and becomes immensely deterred. All the energy ebbs
from her body, but the statement is still too much.

Overwhelmed, she lifts her comforter, disrupting the studying

contents above, crawls underneath, and desperately embraces
sleep.

FADE TO BLACK.

An ALARM sounds in the distance. It gets increasingly louder,

shifts into a hum, and then fades away.

14 INT. NISHA’S BEDROOM - DAY 14

A fuzzy face emerges from the darkness. MENA DANDEKAR, a

nurturing Asian American young woman, hovers above her
sister. She clutches NISHA’S MEDICAL RECORDS.

Nisha stirs.

NISHA
Mena?

MENA
Hey Sis.

The two embrace. Nisha blinks groggily at her mother.

NISHA
I... I don’t understand. What are
you doing here?

MENA
When we heard about your medical
complications, Mom and I decided
that I should fly out immediately.

Nisha falters, clearly disoriented. She stifles a cough.

 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 19.

NISHA
Medical complications?
(suddenly)
Hold on, what time is it? Please,
please, please tell me it’s not
after six...

Mena squeezes Nisha’s hand comfortingly.

MENA
That’s not important right now; I
just need to you listen to me,
okay? After Kiara came back from
her final, she found you
unconscious even though your alarm
was ringing, and nobody could wake
you. She called an ambulance, and
the hospital ran some standard
tests... you have a severe
adenosine deaminase deficiency.

Nisha hesitates. Mena offers her the medical records.

NISHA
(unsure)
Adenosine... like the sleep-
negative particles that build up in
your mind when you are tired?

MENA
Yeah. An adenosine deaminase
deficiency means that you do not
have enough of the enzymes that
maintains your immune system and
remove these particles, sleep-
negative particles.

NISHA
Oh.

MENA
The doctors didn’t quite understand
what happened because there were no
indications of a deficiency before,
and the number of enzymes cannot be
drastically reduced without cause.

A potent moment between the two. Nisha seems to be on the

verge of tears.

MENA (CONT’D)
Nisha, what have you gotten into?
 Blue Rev. (08/08/17) 20.

NISHA
I... I was taken advantage of. A
man made changes to my
neurotransmitter implant, and I
just... went with it.

A beat.

NISHA (CONT’D)
Hold on... how did you afford a
flight here? We just barely have
enough money for our family, and
tickets prices are higher in the
holiday season...

Mena is silent.

NISHA (CONT’D)
I’ve ruined everything. Maybe you
deserve better, you and Hiral and
Asha and Mom and Grandmother and
Grandfather...

Nisha opens her medical records.

NISHA (CONT’D)
(brokenly)
Maybe I deserve this.

MENA
Of course you don’t.

She sits next to her sister, a comforting hand on her

shoulder.

MENA (CONT’D)
It’s over. There is nothing you
need to worry about anymore. You
can sleep now.

But they both know that it is a lie. Nisha yawns.