Make Me Remember
Original Song: Leah Andreone
Rating: HR (Hadji/Pearl), mild A
Disclaimer: Don't own anything Questish. I'm broke, and this isn't helping. Please don't sue.
INT: PALM KEY NIGHT (Pearl's bedroom)
{Music intro}
[Pearl is lying in her bed, looking up at the ceiling, obviously sleepless. The lights are off, but half a moon shines softly through the open window. She's clutching a crumpled piece of notepaper to her breast. Something shimmers in the moonlight, resolving into a dim, shadowy outline of Hadji. He seems to be trying to speak to her, his lips forming her name, but she doesn't respond. Instead, she keeps looking up at the empty ceiling as she begins to sing.]
Whispering you stare
Wanting you don't care
Kiss me, make me cry
How did I wind up here?
[She sits up, her back to the illusion of Hadji, which sits gingerly on the edge of her bed.]
Wishing I were dead
Why are you in my bed?
You're what's jeopardized
It's only me denied
[Hadji's image reaches out to her, but she stands up, avoiding his phantom touch]
Oh, I'm dizzy hazy
Oh, can someone save me?
[She slips into a soft blue silk robe]
Oh, hypnotize me
Anesthetize the pain
[Softly she steals out of her room without a single glance back.]
You speak my name
I hear nothing
[She pauses only briefly at Race's door, which is closed, before going silently downstairs]
You share your dreams
I see nothing
Unconscious suicide
Are you done yet?
[She goes outside and walks down to the beach, her loose hair flowing in the wind]
You make me remember
Things I want to forget
[Pearl pauses near a small tidal pool. The moonlight shimmering on the water seems to form another image, this one a memory: a six-year-old Pearl, walking hand-in-hand with her mother, Jade, obviously very happy, on a lovely spring day.]
Walk in the park, fresh air
Should I think you're still here?
Inside a child asks why
Why did you bring me here?
[We see Pearl struggling, her hand held by a nun, as she tries to run after her mother, who is smiling and waving as she walks away.]
Oh, I'm dizzy hazy
[She kneels down and runs her empty hand over the surface of the water, dispelling the image]
Oh, can someone save me?
[She stands up, wrapping her arms around herself, as though chilly]
Oh, hypnotize me
Anesthetize the pain
[A transparent, moon-pale image of Hadji reappears behind her, but she still doesn't acknowledge his spiritual presence. Silently he mouths her name again.]
Oh, you speak my name
I hear nothing
You share your dreams
I see nothing
Unconscious suicide
Are you done yet?
You make me remember
[His ghostly hand reaches out to brush her cheek.]
You touch my face
I feel nothing
[He tries to kiss her; without looking at him, she draws back.]
You taste my lips
I give nothing
A starving soul must be fed
You make me remember
Things I want to forget
[She walks away a few steps, and Hadji's image starts to follow her. Suddenly she whirls on him, confronting him, obviously annoyed at his persistence.]
Oh yes, I do need to feel love
And I could use yours like a glove
But the memories keep flooding back
And all I want to do is paint it all black
[He reaches out as if to take her in his arms, and she turns and runs down the beach, away from his shadow.]
This starving soul must be fed
You make me remember
[She stumbles and falls to her knees in the surf, hugging herself tightly]
You speak my name
I hear nothing
You share your dreams
I see nothing
[Hadji's hand touches her shoulder--we don't see the rest of him.]
Unconscious suicide
Aren't you gone yet?
[She tries to shake him off without looking.]
You make me remember things I want
[Suddenly he grasps her arm and pulls her to her feet.]
You make me remember things I need
[It's really Hadji this time, in the flesh. His hair is loose and rumpled--he obviously has just gotten out of bed--and he holds on tight to her despite her struggling.]
You make me remember things I want to forget...
[Eventually she stops fighting and lets him hold her. Her face crumples and she begins to cry, pressing her face against his shoulder. Her hand slowly opens and the piece of paper she's been holding falls to the sand, to be swept away by the encroaching waves. The writing at the top of the page is briefly legible: Dearest Pearl: I'm sorry, love, but I won't be able to visit you for your birthday... The rest is lost as the surf sweeps the letter from Jade out to sea as the music fades out.]
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