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** DECEMBER 15TH ** |
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*** POLLY'S BEDROOM - 8:10 AM *** |
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| Polly Page: | "Dear Diary, I hope that it isn't true again. Greg will be really, really mad and I don't want to go back to that doctor again. I still haven't told anyone about what Russell did, but who can I tell? Greg would kill me, especially now with Ian acting up and Vicky either won't believe me or she will hate me forever! I just hope it's not true and that it'll go away. But my period has never come back since the time after the doctor, so I'm really worried. Plus I feel sick all the time and I've been trying to hide that, in case it means that something's wrong too. I hate all of this and I just want it to stop. I hate Ian and Greg and everyone!" |
| Polly slams the little book closed, placing it carefully into her secret hiding place under the false lid of her jewellery box. She paces across to her bedroom doorway and checks the corridor outside. Hearing Greg and Ian downstairs she runs quickly for the bathroom, locking herself inside. After five minutes or so, Greg paces up the stairs, trying to get the children off to school. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Polly! Hurry up will ya! We have to leave. |
| Greg bangs loudly on the bathroom door. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Polly, what ya doing in there! |
| Polly flushes the toilet quickly, wiping her face with her sleeve. Her reply is somewhat muffled. | |
| Polly Page: | I'll be out in a minute! |
| Greg frowns. | |
| Greg Matthews: | You don't sound well, Polly. Is everything okay? |
| Polly nods quickly as she opens the door, looking away and heading back towards the bathroom. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Is everything all right Polly? You haven't got food poisoning have you? |
| Polly shakes her head, fixing her hair back up into a ponytail. | |
| Polly Page: | It's nothing. |
| Greg leans against the open bathroom doorway. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Come out here Polly. I want to take a look at you. |
| Polly finishes her hair and proceeds back out into the hall. | |
| Polly Page: | Can we go now? |
| Greg looks at the small girl carefully. | |
| Greg Matthews: | You were in there for a long time. |
| Polly shrugs. | |
| Polly Page: | So? |
| Greg Matthews: | You seem to be making a habit of this. You were in there for an hour yesterday too. |
| Polly chews on her lower lip, looking away. | |
| Polly Page: | Are we going or what? |
| Greg takes hold of Polly's shoulder. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Are you feeling well Polly? Open your mouth. |
| Polly looks slightly hesitant, shaking her head quickly. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Open your mouth! Unless you want it opened for you? |
| Polly weakly complies with his request. Greg examines Polly's mouth carefully. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Were you just sick? Your breath stinks. |
| Polly shakes her head a little too quickly, heading into her room to collect her schoolbag. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Polly. Get back here. |
| Greg's voice is stern. Polly picks up her bag and ignores his command, waiting at the top of the stairs. | |
| Polly Page: | We'll be late, won't we? |
| Greg Matthews: | You've made me late, Polly. I'm not impressed. |
| Greg glares at his stepdaughter. Polly sighs lightly, not replying. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Care to explain the extended toilet trips before we leave? |
| Greg's voice is heavy and sarcastic. | |
| Polly Page: | Not really. |
| Greg Matthews: | I heard the toilet flush and I heard retching noises. Were you throwing up? |
| Polly nods slowly, her head dropping. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Are you feeling sick, Polly? Why didn't you tell me? You could have caught something. |
| Polly shrugs. | |
| Polly Page: | I fought it'd go away. |
| Greg sighs. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Is it your stomach? Do you feel woozy or do you have a headache? |
| Polly Page: | No. Just sick. |
| Greg Matthews: | How long have you felt that way? |
| Polly lowers her voice to a near-whisper. | |
| Polly Page: | A few days. I fought it'd go away. |
| Greg Matthews: | Why didn't you tell me, you silly girl? |
| Greg paces around angrily. | |
| Polly Page: | Coz I fought you'd get mad. Just like you are now! |
| Greg stops pacing for a moment as a thought hits him. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Polly, do you feel like this all the time or is it just in the mornings? |
| Polly shrugs. | |
| Polly Page: | Most of the time. But I only get sick in the mornings. |
| Greg is worried. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Polly, I'm going to ask you a difficult question. I want you to answer me truthfully. |
| Polly narrows her eyes. | |
| Polly Page: | What? |
| Greg Matthews: | You know how we had that little talk about always using protection... |
| Polly nods quickly, looking away again. | |
| Polly Page: | I remember. |
| Greg Matthews: | Well have you been a good girl? Every time have you made them use protection? |
| Polly nods again. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Every time, Polly? |
| Greg's voice becomes hard. Polly nods again, much less definitely, her chin trembling slightly. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Every single time with every single man? Look at me when you answer, look into my eyes! |
| Greg bends down and glares into Polly's eyes. Polly sniffles as tears well up in her eyes. She shakes her head as she sobs. | |
| Greg Matthews: | What happened Polly? Tell me what happened. |
| Greg is positively shaking the small girl. | |
| Polly Page: | It only happened once, wasn't my idea... |
| Greg Matthews: | It only takes once Polly! |
| Polly Page: | Like I said, it wasn't my idea! |
| Greg slaps Polly hard across the face. She falls to the ground stunned. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Why weren't you careful? Why? |
| Polly continues crying, picking herself up off the floor. | |
| Polly Page: | He, he made me! |
| Greg Matthews: | Who made you? Who, Polly? |
| Polly shakes her head, refusing to tell. Greg glares at the little girl. | |
| Greg Matthews: | I'm going down to the chemist to get a pregnancy tester and if it comes up positive... |
| Greg trails off, his voice threatening. Polly drops her jaw looking back up at him. | |
| Polly Page: | But what about Ian? It's his first day! |
| Greg Matthews: | You'll be sorry, mark my words. You'll be sorry. |
| Polly Page: | But it's not my fault, it wasn't! |
| Greg Matthews: | I'm sure, what did he offer you an extra tenner if you took it off, eh? |
| Greg pushes Polly backwards and strides away. | |
| Greg Matthews: | No school for you, Miss. I'll be back soon. You'd better pray the test comes up negative. |
| Greg walks downstairs leaving Polly in a heap on the floor. | |
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*** BATHROOM - 9:30 AM *** |
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| Polly sits pressed up again a corner, chewing nervously on her nails. Greg slams open the door. | |
| Greg Matthews: | I've tested the sample, Polly. I've got some bad news for you. |
| Greg holds up the tester and points to a blue dot on the side. | |
| Greg Matthews: | That means that it's a positive test. Do you see the dot Polly? |
| Polly looks slightly confused, sensing the fury in his voice. | |
| Polly Page: | Does that mean I have to go back to the doctor? |
| Greg shakes his head angrily. | |
| Greg Matthews: | I can't afford this Polly! You're costing me too much and you're not bringing in enough money to pay for it. |
| Greg stops and an empty silence fills the room. | |
| Polly Page: | But I didn't do nothing! |
| Greg Matthews: | Yes you bloody did! And you know it! |
| Greg hoists Polly to her feet and slams her against the glass shower door. Polly gasps slightly, her head hitting the glass. | |
| Polly Page: | What? What did I do? |
| Greg Matthews: | You know what you did. You've gotten yourself pregnant and you're going to pay for it! |
| Greg presses roughly against Polly's stomach. Polly winces, trying to wriggle out if his grasp. | |
| Polly Page: | Is this like what happened before? When the doctor did the operation? |
| Greg Matthews: | Stay still you silly little girl while I decide what to do with you. |
| Greg squashes Polly roughly against the glass and thinks to himself. | |
| Greg Matthews: | I can't afford another abortion. Why the hell do you get yourself into these situations, Polly! |
| Polly Page: | But what did I do? I didn't do anything! It was all.. |
| Polly trails off quickly. | |
| Greg Matthews: | All what? Whose fault was it? |
| Polly shakes her head, her tone final. | |
| Polly Page: | I'm not telling! |
| Greg Matthews: | Tell me! |
| Greg shakes Polly back and forth. | |
| Polly Page: | No! Coz then everyone will get into trouble! Not just him! |
| Greg Matthews: | Tell me you little slut! |
| Greg slaps Polly hard across the cheek. Polly raises her hands to her face, her voice weak, but confident. | |
| Polly Page: | No! |
| Greg continues to slap her with both his hands. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Who was it? Who did you drop your knickers for, eh? |
| Polly Page: | No, I'm not telling! It doesn't matter anyway! |
| Greg Matthews: | It matters to me. |
| Greg draws back and punches Polly square in the stomach. She slumps to the ground. | |
| Greg Matthews: | You're pregnant, you slut! Pregnant again! |
| Polly groans, dragging herself up from the ground towards the hallway. | |
| Polly Page: | I don't care, leave me alone! |
| Greg smirks and a glint appears in his eye. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Well, I might just have to take matters into my own hands. |
| Greg kicks Polly's stomach, hard. Polly is winded, falling back onto the cold tiles. | |
| Polly Page: | Stop it! |
| Polly crawls into the hallway. Greg reaches down and pulls Polly back by the scruff of her neck. | |
| Greg Matthews: | You don't get away that easily! |
| Greg kicks Polly in the stomach again and again. Polly gasps, trying to catch her breath and struggle away from him. She weakens. | |
| Polly Page: | Please, you're hurting me.. stop... |
| Greg snorts. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Not until I see blood. |
| Greg continues to kick Polly around for the next five minutes. Eventually she is lying there battered and bleeding when Greg stops. He stands back and surveys the damage. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Sorry Polly, but it had to happen. I hope that was enough. If not, I'll have to give you a second helping later on. |
| Polly continues crying, crawling from the hallway into her bedroom and curling up tightly on her bed. | |
| Greg Matthews: | You can stop crying Polly. You only have yourself to blame, you know. |
| Greg turns on his heel and walks downstairs, without looking back. | |
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*** POLLY'S BEDROOM - 3:40 PM *** |
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| Ian wanders into Polly's bedroom and sees her doubled up with pain on her bed. | |
| Ian Page: | You look sick Polly. Have you been eating things you shouldn't? |
| Polly stirs lightly, noticing her brother at the end of the bed. | |
| Polly Page: | Get lost, pest! |
| Ian Page: | No. You're acting funny again! Why are you always throwing up nowadays Polly? You chunder all the time. Are you about to puke again? |
| Polly shakes her head, slowly sitting up, her hands clutching her stomach. | |
| Ian Page: | Why not? It's funny when you puke and you can see all the green slimy things in your stomach on the outside! |
| Ian jumps up on the bed and sits next to Polly. He grins at her. Polly frowns, her face pale. She groans as she pulls herself out of bed, blood trickling down the insides of her legs. | |
| Ian Page: | Wow cool! Blood! How did you get that Polly? |
| Polly Page: | Shut up, pest! Leave me alone! |
| Ian stares with delight at the dark red blood on Polly's thighs. | |
| Ian Page: | Have you been attacked by space demons? People bleed when that happens! |
| Polly drops herself back onto her bed, looking daggers at him. | |
| Polly Page: | Piss off, you! |
| Polly sobs, the pain in her abdomen increasing. | |
| Ian Page: | No! This is cool! There must be space demons inside you trying to saw their way out! Can I listen and see if I can hear them? |
| Polly Page: | Ian, no! |
| Polly heaves herself from the bed once again, pacing towards the bathroom. Ian gets up, follows Polly and presses his ear against her abdomen. | |
| Ian Page: | Wow! I think I can hear them! |
| Ian clutches to Polly's sides as she struggles to dislodge him. Polly pushes her brother away, locking herself in the bathroom, still sobbing as she tries to clean herself up. Ian sighs and wanders off. He is bored. | |
| Ian Page: | You're no fun, Polly. I'm going to find Greg. |
| Polly hears his muffled voice through the door, as she presses her forehead up against the bathroom wall, the pool of blood underneath her increasing. | |