my stepfather? no. he's dead. i killed him. miranda tries not to act surprised at this breakthrough. responds with the even keel of a trained psychiatrist.
so? there's a first time for everything.
i never killed anyone who didn't deserve it.
i should've taken care of my mother. she knew all along. you remind me of her.
always so put together. like you iron your underwear. like your pussy is the apricot of the promised land and the bread of the --
the devil.
he came to fuck an angel. i'm his dirty angel. before miranda can analyze that one, the room lights flicker and die. darkness. miranda's breathing speeds up.
he grabbed me by the hair while i sucked him and usually i love that, i just do -- maybe you can tell me why i love it so much -- but not this time, he was just too rough -- as suddenly as it went out, now the power returns. a visibly uncomfortable miranda checks the clock.
sure, doctor. crazy people hear messages from god. not the devil. you know that, right?
you don't have to say it. she almost doesn't seem crazy when she says this. almost. two orderlies appear at the door. miranda nods for them to escort chloe. chloe shakes their hands away from her, strides off dramatically. the princess of the asylum.
modalina? isn't that a band?
not bad. high potency neuroleptics starting with 'j.'
what do you wanna bet?
right on the money, cowgirl. twenty points and a soda. camera follows her intent gaze to another patient, shelley moseying across the room. nervously takes a seat beside miranda.
you fucking cow giving me the evil eye, huh? fuck you, you fuckin' voodoo witch -- ! irene and the orderlies yank chloe off consuelo. chloe kicks and screams like an animal. consuelo meekly stands up.
you bet your goddamn fat ass i mean it, you're a witch -- !!
take your voodoo shit back to cuba --
you wanna help me? you pity me? suck me. the orderlies haul chloe off. irene disperses the crowd. consuelo sighs, embarrassed, wipes a bloody lip. her manner says she just wants to get back to her duties. excitement over, the patients resume whatever it is they were doing. miranda stares at her bleak surroundings when something catches her eye: pete watching her from his office window. he quickly slides the curtain shut. odd.
doctor, did you just say 'motherfucker'?
man, you must really hate me.
you hate me because now you're just the same as me. you must feel so embarrassed.
that's just a pat answer you have because you're new at this. trust me, i know what i'm talking about.
you know what happens next?
the shock wears off and the guilt kicks in. and that guilt is the real motherfucker. you'll be watched 24. seven, because they're afraid you'll kill yourself. dr. graham will question every harmless gesture, every innocent comment, ever twitch you make and eventually -- and it's a fucking tedious 'eventually' -- you'll stop hating yourself for what you did. but what replaces that hatred is this unbearable sadness. and you don't lose that as long as you live. push in on miranda. deeply affected by chloe's words, as we --
you're very polite for a piggy. now take off your uniform. sheriff ryan hesitates. chloe presses the gun against him.
do it quick. i won't make fun of you. the sound of the upstairs door being thrown open makes her glance up. she trains her flashlight at the second level, stepping behind the sheriff to use him as cover.
nobody better fucking move up there or i'll blow this piggy's head off! her flashlight beam searches the section. catches the reflection of a police shield hiding behind a table.
that means you, fucko. up on your feet or i'll start by shooting his ear off. a beat. officer turlington rises. slow and deliberate.
tell junior the grownups are talking now and he's not allowed in here. do it.
the grownups are talking. don't paraphrase me.
dreadful timing, i'm real busy.
look -- let's not confuse things. i like you. but this is my only chance. now take off that goddamn uniform before i get really pissed. the sheriff glances at miranda. miranda nods. the sheriff begins unbuttoning his shirt --
what are my options? to grow old in this place? it's clear they will never let me go. never. ever.
that's a lie! i'll never stop being sick, they'll just find something new that's wrong with me. no wonder you doctors can't help anyone -- all you have are deficit columns and stupid tests designed to point out what part of the puzzle you think we're missing!
i'm so tired. so goddamn tired -- miranda walks over and embraces her. chloe hands her the gun. and that's when the power returns. miranda and chloe frozen in their embrace. sheriff ryan on his knees. in the sudden, shocking glare of returning light, color abruptly re-enters the world and every radio, phone, fan and machine that were left on hum to
thank you for everything, dr. graham. i'll never forget all you've done for me.
well, i guess this is it. i hope not to see you again unless it's for coffee or something.
you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but -- have you ever heard anything from -- ? pete shakes his head. chloe nods, climbs inside the cab. pete waves as it drives off. then he pulls out a postcard from his pocket. it has a new york city postmark.