Let me know any thoughts! At this point just trying to get maximum number of readers and opinions on this. Thanks.
EXT. PARKING LOT, NIGHT
ROSE, 15, and her sister, VIOLET, 13, run ahead of their parents, exiting an opera. Violet is singing.
VIOLET (sung melodramatically, crescendoing)
Gia…camatto……eriatti…!
ROSE
Doesn’t sound like Italian to me.
VIOLET
Doesn’t matter, Rose. You just sing it in opera, it doesn’t matter what you say.
ROSE
Okay. Check this out.
Rose stops walking to sing, and as she opens her mouth and begins singing, Violet comes to an entranced stop ahead. She looks back, and as people catch up, they too stop and listen. Someone in a parked car turns their lights on Rose, and she is lit theatrically in the dark parking lot. People remain still until she finishes, then applaud and cheer for her. Violet beams with admiration and wonder at her older sister.
INT. THERAPIST’S OFFICE
VIOLET, in her 20’s, is sitting on one end of an L-shaped couch. DR. BOLDEN, a therapist, sits on the other end, his hands empty and on his leg.
DR. BOLDEN
Is it that, maybe you, Violet, think you shouldn’t be here?
VIOLET
Well, I shouldn’t. Therapy is not for me.
DR. BOLDEN
Then why are you here?
VIOLET
She was always in and out of therapy, constantly.
DR. BOLDEN
Is it all about her?
VIOLET
Of course it is.
DR. BOLDEN
Let’s make it all about Violet.
VIOLET
Let’s not overdo it, Steven.
DR. BOLDEN
Fine, we’ll talk about your sister Rose. (pause) She died a few months ago, she was 29 years old, just under two years older than yourself. You told me she was in and out of therapy for her symptoms, which included frequent psychotic episodes and constant detachment from reality. This started when she was…
VIOLET
Fifteen.
DR. BOLDEN
Fifteen.
EXT. BACKYARD, AFTERNOON
A white house sits unassumingly on a large lot, and the tree cover increases as the lawn recedes, eventually becoming a full forest.
Rose, 15, walks nonchalantly past the back porch of the house, towards the trees. She is small and white against the dark pines, and she smiles tenderly as she steps over a tree branch and into the woods.
CUT TO: INT. KITCHEN
There is salsa music playing loudly in the house, and GALEN, middle aged mother, stirs something on the stove. She dances a little as she cooks.
She has frizzled hair and wears a bandana around her head. She looks out the kitchen window and into the trees, something in her eyes that challenges the carefree bliss of the perky music.
CUT TO: INT. FRONT HALL
GALEN
Okay, okay, honey. Okay.
Galen opens the door to the house, Rose’s hand in hers. Rose is covered in sap and pine needles, her jeans smudged with dirt. Rose’s face is completely blank.
VIOLET (entering)
Ro?
