The screen is black. Low at first, but steadily growing louder, the sound of a beating heart. It is soon joined by a -/OUT OF FOCUS/- pulse of red, flashing in time with the heart beat. As the red pulse slowly gains focus, the words DON'T WALK, DON'T WALK, DON'T WALK appear on the screen. The CAMERA pulls back to show a girl standing in the rain on the corner of a busy Chicago intersection. Cicero Ave and West Madison St. Dead in the heart of Chicago's west end heroin district. The girl's name is HANNA. Young, pretty, and a heroin junkie. She is staring up at the flashing sign with a great deal of anxiety. The CAMERA continues to pull behind her. Hands in pockets, she bounces from one foot to the other. The traffic light seems to be taking forever. Dressed in nothing more than a light T-shirt, cargo shorts and sneakers, a small handbag over her shoulder, she is soaked from head to toe, yet oblivious to the falling rain. The DON'T WALK sign consumes all of her attention. Finally, the oncoming traffic slows and the light changes to WALK. Hanna, at last on her way, dashes into the intersection. A car horn blares and tires screech. An oncoming car, running late through the yellow light nearly hits her. As it swerves to avoid her, she jumps back and turns to the car as it speeds away. HANNA ( shouting angrily) Motherfucker! After a cursory glance to ensure of no more oncoming traffic, she again runs into the intersection. The CAMERA follows her from behind. She runs two blocks down Cicero Ave and turns right on Roosevelt Rd before slowing to a fast walk. Though eager to get back to her squat, she lacks the stamina to continue. She will walk the rest of the way. The rain continues it's assault but Hanna shows no sign of agitation. The small bag hanging from her shoulder contains enough heroin to keep her, and her squat-mates high for the next two days or so. That is all she cares about. She is almost there. INT. STAIRWELL - DIMLY LIT Hanna climbs the stairs two at a time. Closer to getting her fix, she has regained some energy. Rain drips from the long red ponytail which hangs half way down her back. INT. HALLWAY - DIMLY LIT Reaching the top, she squeezes the water from her hair, as she walks down the short dark hallway. At last stopping at a closed


door on her left, she knocks loudly. HANNA It's me! Open up! The door opens. It's MARIA, Hanna's girlfriend. Younger than Hanna by a few years, she is Latino and quite pretty. The ravages of heroin have yet to play out on her innocent round face. She has been on the streets for only a short time. Hanna has taken her under her wing. Protecting her from the many dangers of life on the street in west end Chicago. MARIA Did you get any? INT. SQUAT. Hanna enters the room, leans in and gives Maria a quick kiss on the lips. HANNA Hi baby. Yeah, I got some. The room is dirty and depressingly dark. There is no electricity. The only light the room receives is the glow from the streetlights which shine through the open curtains. Empty pizza boxes and other trash is strewn throughout. Save for two well worn mattresses on the floor and a small table and chair, the room is empty. Two bodies can be seen sleeping under a thin blanket on one of the mattresses. On the other mattress is FOO. He sits preoccupied with an obviously infected open sore on the back of his hand. Black with a shaved head, Foo, at 24 is the oldest of the five squat-mates. Foo looks up at Hanna. FOO (somewhat angrily) Fuck Hanna. What took you so long? We're fucking dying here. You've been gone for almost three hours. HANNA (sarcastically) In case you've forgotten Foo, we haven't got any fucking money! Leon's the only one who will front to me and I couldn't find him. Finally caught up to him in Garfield park after waking all over the god-damn city looking for him. Foo begins to calm down. FOO So how much did you get?


HANNA Enough. For a day or two I guess. I got ten dimes, but I'm telling you, we absolutely have to pay him back by the weekend. Leon's the only guy who'll spot to us and I don't wanna fuck that up. Foo grabs his kit from beside the bed and starts pulling his drug paraphernalia from it. Needle, tourniquet, spoon, lighter. FOO Don't worry about it. We'll get him the cash. come on, hand one over. Hanna pulls the bag from her shoulder and looks inside. HANNA (excited) Oh shit man, How could I forget! Hanna reaches into her bag and pulls out two packets of heroin. Each is stamped with the words "Jonestown" in red letters. HANNA (pleased with herself) Check it out my babies! Hanna raises the two packets into the air, teasing them back and forth in front of Foo and Maria. FOO What have you got there Hanna? HANNA On my way back here after finally tracking down Leon, I hit a 'pass-out' down on Maypole. The guy gave me two cause I knew him. Maria, somewhat new to the street life is confused. MARIA What's a 'pass-out' Hanna? HANNA (excitedly) Free smack my baby. Free fucking smack! Maria, puzzled, looks at Hanna. MARIA Whad'ya mean, free? HANNA Dealers looking for new customers I guess. Every once in a while they'll


hand out a few bags for free. Figure you'll be back for more later if it's any good. MARIA Lemme see. Hanna throws one of the packets to Maria then looks at Foo. HANNA Fuck man, The corner is only 10 minutes away, he might still be there. Hanna motions to the still sleeping bodies under the blanket. HANNA Get those two the fuck up and go get some more Foo! Foo quickly gets up from the mattress, puts on his sneakers and walks over to the bed where the other two still lie sleeping. He gives it a kick. FOO Come on ya fucks. There's a pass-out down on Maypole. Get up! The two bodies under the blanket begin to stir. It's JAMIE and his girlfriend LOLA. Both 18. JAMIE (sleepily) Jesus Foo, what the fuck? Is Hanna back yet? FOO Yeah, she's back. There's a pass-out down on Maypole. Hurry the fuck up or we'll miss it! Fully dressed under the blanket, they quickly rise, grab their shoes beside the bed and start getting ready to go. Jamie is taking a painfully long time to tie his sneakers. FOO Come on for fuck sakes, lets go! Foo heads for the door. Jamie and Lola get up from the mattress and follow him out. Hanna sits on the bed and motions to Maria to sit beside her. She reaches up past the head of the mattress and grabs her kit. Maria sits beside her. Hanna turns to Maria. HANNA So what do you think baby? You wanna try


this? Hanna holds one of the Jonestown packets in her hand, showing it to Maria. Maria is still holding the other one, turning it over and over again in her hands. MARIA (nervously) I don't know baby. HANNA It's all right sweetheart. Cook one of these then. Hanna hands Maria one of the packets she got from Leon. Maria has only recently made the jump from smoking and snorting heroin. She is still nervous injecting. Hanna watches her as she clumsily pulls her tools from the kit. HANNA Want some help baby? MARIA No. I'm good. Just give me a second. Maria takes the rubber tube and stuffs it under her arm. The syringe, spoon, lighter, cotton, she lays beside her on the bed. HANNA Let me help you with that. At least let me load it up for you. MARIA All right, here. Maria picks up the syringe and hands it to Hanna. She tightens the tourniquet around her arm. Maria opens the bag and places the contents on the spoon, as well as a small piece of cotton and a few drops of water. She lights the lighter and begins cooking the heroin. Once liquefied she holds it out to Hanna. Hanna carefully places the tip of the needle into the cotton and sucks the heroin up into the syringe. She looks Maria in the eyes waiting for a sign that she is ready. Maria nods. Loosening the tourniquet from around her bicep she presents her arm to Hanna. Hanna gently places the tip of the needle against her bulging vein. A quick glance into Maria's eyes, she slowly pushes it in. As blood fills the tube of the syringe, she knows she's in the vein. She slowly and carefully pushes the plunger down and the heroin disappears into Maria's arm. Maria looks at Hanna and waits. Within seconds the euphoria washes over her. Her eyes close and she collapses on the bed. Hanna looks at her and smiles. Picking up the Jonestown packet from beside her, she empties the contents on the spoon and begins her cook. She is obviously much more experienced than Maria. Within less than a minute she has the heroin cooked and the needle loaded. Hanna


kicks off her shoe, pulls her foot close to her stomach, and plunges the needle between her big toe and the one beside. She waits for the kick. Then she feels it. Good at first. Almost as good as the first time. Something she has waited to feel again for nearly 5 years. That feeling like no other feeling in existence. Pure ecstasy. Seconds pass. Though still in the midst of her euphoria, her face suddenly changes. Something is wrong. Somewhere deep inside she realizes that this is the end. She will not come back from this one. A final breath, she falls sideways on Maria. The syringe still protruding from between her toes. Hanna is dead. Maria begins to scream. FADE OUT.

INT: DINER - EARLY MORNING - SUNNY WALTER sits alone in a booth at a quiet diner picking at the remains of his breakfast. Though quiet in the way of customers, top 40 music can be heard blasting from a cheap radio in the kitchen. Despite being on the downside of his 40's and prematurely gray, Walter is still strikingly handsome. He is impeccably dressed. Charcoal Hugo Boss business suit over a white Burberry dress shirt open at the neck. On his feet are a pair of Bruno Magli lambskin leather shoes. Perched atop his $100 haircut are a pair of Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses. In another universe Walter could be the CEO of a large corporation or a high profile Attorney, however in this universe his occupation is much darker indeed. Only his eyes betray the illusion. Blue and piercing yet cold as steel and empty. He has seen things most normal people could barely imagine. To the right of his breakfast plate lies a half finished New York Times crossword puzzle. Aside from occasional glances at the Tag Heuer on his left wrist (a gift from a client), his focus on the puzzle rarely wavers. As he mulls over a rather difficult 24 down, he spins his pencil around his thumb with the ultimate goal of catching it perfectly in the writing position. He is rarely successful. More often than not the pencil falls to the table and occasionally to the floor. Unperturbed he retrieves it and continues. Although the morning sun is fighting to cut its way into the the small diner through the half closed curtains at each street-side table, it is a losing battle. The room remains dark and unwelcoming. It is also a mess after the early morning rush of diners. At the counter is a man sitting and drinking coffee/reading the newspaper. A waitress is busying herself clearing tables. Otherwise the diner is empty.


Walter looks at his watch again. He is starting to get agitated. It shows 20 past 9. Shaking his head, he goes back to what's left of his crossword puzzle, and his breakfast. The pencil continues to spin and fall from his hand. The door opens. A junkie named LEON in his late twenties enters and looks around. Leon is alarmingly thin and pale. His shoulder length hair appears to have not been washed in weeks. He is clad in a well worn, long sleeved T-shirt and a pair of jeans which have seen much better days. He is without shoes. If there truly is such a thing as 'Heroin chic' this certainly doesn't apply to Leon. He just looks ill. He sees Walter sitting in a booth at the far end of the diner. He slowly starts walking towards him. As Leon is shown walking towards Walter's table, you can see -/out of focus/- another man follow him in moments later. He locks the door and turns over the open/closed sign hanging on the door. He takes a seat at a nearby table. Upon arriving at the table, Leon just stands there in silence. Walter sensing rather than seeing Leon standing above him, pulls his attention away from his puzzle and slowly looks up at him. WALTER You're late. LEON I know. WALTER Didn't I tell you not to be late? LEON Yeah. Walter looks up at himself. Leon just his pencil and for smile forms on his Leon exasperated, hoping he might explain stands there stone-faced. Walter again spins once it falls perfectly in place. A small lips.

LEON I wasn't going to come at all. Walter's smile disappears. WALTER Well, now that would not have been very wise Leon. Walter points the pencil up at Leon and then to the seat across from him. WALTER Sit down.

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