McLean: Preview

SCENE: A dark/brown dilapidated country with empty streets. Moans

can be heard in the distance along with pops and bangs that are

assumed to be gun shots. Yells can be heard from corners of the city.

The sun will be rising soon, there is dim light on the horizon.

Political posters are charred some hanging, some on the ground from

where they had previously hung. Buildings are for the most part

intact but some have been damaged severely. There is no electricity,

the city is black. The paved roads haven't been maintenanced they are

cracked and bare. Cars line the streets in a random fashion. Some old

but intact others smashed to bits. Crows and only crows can be heard.

The beauty of the once busy city has been drawn out and replaced with

darkness and damp evil. Not a person can be seen on the streets

except bodies of those who had died with in the last few months. The

season is fall, the air is about room temperature but the chill in

the more than gentle but less than rough wind.


The camera pans up to a view of the whole city.


SCENE: The city is in disarray. flashes of a muzzle of a gun or two

can be seen in areas around the city. It appears people had made a

settlement right inside of the city park.


The camera pans into to a better view of the park.


SCENE: The beauty has seemed to be deleted from the once large family

oriented park. The once leaf covered trees are now dead, you can tell

from the way they look that it isn't because of the change of

seasons. Shantys made out of essential urban hardware are assembled

in a random fashion around the park. The large ovular once pond full

of water is now a damp muddy crater. A hurtful reminder of the beauty

there once was. Coughs and yelling can be heard around the

hooverville. Children fight with each other as older teens commit

acts of violence against each other. It is obvious that the olderones

have created divisions and gangs among themselves.


The camera pans into a shot of a young man, just over 19 years old

standing at the edge of the crater where the pond was. He looks down

at the crater. He sighs a breathy sigh of emotional pain and physical

lethargy. He takes his left thumb and rubs the web of skin between

his index finger and thumb on his left hand. A makeshift tattoo of a

small "x" is located on the patch of skin he rubbed on his right

hand. A light, very light drizzle begins to fall from the sky. The

boy looks up, a droplet of water falls onto his cheek, it runs down

like a tear would. The boy turns after a moment and begins to walk

down a damp dirt "road" within the hooverville. Puddles have formed

in small divets in the "road" left from motor bikes and old dead

bodies which had recently been moved.


The camera pans into several different "houses". Some have people

standing outside of them, others are being robbed just then as

teenagers run out.


The camera centers behind Marshall as he walks.


                            BOY
               "Hey Marshall! You got my stuff?"


          Marshall reaches into his pocket reluctantly pulling
          out a baggie containing a brown substance. He tosses it to

the boy who is standing in the doorway of his home.

                          MARSHALL
               "Here you go, now lay off Andrew okay?"

               The boy nods with a smile, obviously excited about

the drugs he just got. He chuckles.

                            BOY
               "Whatever man, whatever."

               The boy walks back inside.


Marshall continues his walk down the dirt road. He walks into the

second to last house on the left. The house is of medium size

compared to the rest. Marshall opens the shanty door and sighs. The

walls are for the most part bare, besides one photo the camera pans

into. It's of Marshall and his parents. Marshall looks at this photo

with obvious pain in his eyes, though no tears come out. He sits down

on the makeshift bed and puts his head in his hands. Marshall rubs

his face slowly. He notices a glinting object on the floor in front of

him. He leans over slowly and picks it up. It's a gold colored wrist

chain. It belongs to Andrew. It was once their mothers. Marshall

squeezes it gently in his hand. He lays back on the makeshift bed,

closing his eyes with the chain in his hand. As Marshall falls asleep

gun shots and yelling are heard. This is nothing new to Marshall. He

is more than use to it.



The camera pans up slowly from the bed, the scene fades to black.