The Sixth Sense 灵异第六感 Movie Script

LYNN:

Cole, what's happening to you? Cole looks down and finds his mother laying in her bed. Her face contorted in deep sadness as she speaks in her sleep.

LYNN:

Is someone hurting you?... I'll beat their asses. Cole smiles at his mother as he moves to her side. Touches her face with his tiny fingers.

COLE:

(whispers) Momma, you sleep now. His touch seems to have an effect. Lynn becomes still in her sleep. Cole watches her carefully.

COT TO:

INT. HALL - NIGHT Cole closes the door to his mother's bedroom shut. He stands still in the hallway. Lets out a heavy sigh... HIS BREATH ROLLS IN A TINY CLOUD IN FRONT OF HIM. Cole's brow furrows. He breathes again. This time intentionally. Watches as his breath materializes in the suddenly ice cold air. Every muscle in Cole's eight-year-old body becomes rigid. He takes a second before moving through the inky darkness of the hall.

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INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT Cole hurries to fix his tent. He ties the collapsed bedsheet in a knot on the edge of the chair. He checks it carefully before entering the tent.

CUT TO:

INT. TENT - NIGHT When Cole turns around, he stops breathing. AN EIGHT-YEAR-OLD GIRL VOMITS ON HERSELF IN HIS TENT. She finishes and looks up at Cole with drawn eyes.

GIRL:

I'm feeling much better now. The girl reaches out with her withered and emaciated hands -- tiny tubes hang from her wrists. She scratches Cole as he tumbles back terrified out of the tent. The whole tent collapses --

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Cole runs hard out of his bedroom and down the hall to the living room. He gets down to the ground and slides under the wooden- legged couch. Sebastian is already huddled in fear under the couch. Cole presses as far back as he can and waits.COLE'S P.O.V. -- is of the living room floor. Chair legs. Coffee table base. Rugs... Everything is still. Cole holds his breath. He waits. Beat. Nothing happens. He takes his first short breaths and watches the room for any sign of movement.

CUT TO:

INT. COLE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT A few minutes later. Cole is now standing in his doorway. He stares at the hunched figure covered by the collapsed tent. BEAT. Cole makes a decision. He looks like he is going to cry -- fights it back. He walks towards it. Reaches down and slowly pulls the sheet off the figure. The girl vomits one more time before looking up at Cole.

GIRL:

I'm feeling much better. Cole and the little girl stare silently at each other. Cole holds her stare with trembling eyes. He opens his mouth -- it takes a while before the words come out.

COLE:

Do you want to tell me something?

CUT TO:

INT. PUBLIC BUS - DAY A downtown Septa public bus. Malcolm and Cole are among the spattering of passengers. They're both wearing suits. Cole leans his head against the glass of the scratched window. Cole's large eyes drink in the passing scenery. COLE'S P.O.V. -- A dark, abandoned building stretches for an entire block on one side. A MAN IN A GREY, FULL-BODIED UNIFORM WITH NUMBERS PRINTED ACROSS HIS CHEST... RISES OUT OF THE TALL WEEDS IN FRONT OF THE BUILDING. HE HOBBLES HIS WAY DESPERATELY TOWARDS THE BUS. HIS HANDS AND LEGS ARE SHACKLED... HE LUNGES OUT FOR COLE IN THE PASSING WINDOW.

SHACKLED MAN:

My name's not Sullivan! A GUNSHOT ECHOES IN THE AIR. THE MAN'S CHEST EXPLODES IN RED AS HE FALLS TO HIS KNEES SCREAMING. Cole jerks back from the window. The bus quietly drives past THE OLD PRISON BUILDING.Cole stares down at his lap and tries not to look up anymore. Beat.

COLE:

She came a long way to visit me, didn't she?

MALCOLM:

I guess she did. Cole falls into deep thoughts as he stares down at his dress shoes. Malcolm slips back into silence. The city bus slithers through the old Philadelphia streets working its way downtown.

CUT TO:

EXT. HOME - AFTERNOON A modest home sits on a corner. Its small lawn, groomed carefully. Rows of parked cars spill out from the driveway onto the streets. People in suits and dark dresses move somberly in and out of the front door of the home. Cole and Malcolm join the visitors as they walk slowly towards the doors. A frail, little girl about four years of age sits in a dark dress on the swings in front of the house. Visitors say hello to her as they pass. She doesn't say anything back.

MALCOLM:

Her little sister? Cole nods, "Yes." Malcolm and Cole watch her for a moment before following others into the modest corner home.

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INT. HOME - AFTERNOON The home is packed with people. The gathering of mourners is standing room only. The AIR IS FILLED WITH DOZENS OF HUSHED CONVERSATIONS. VISITOR #1 ...can you imagine being a child in a bed for two years? We move to. VISITOR #2 ...I think it was six. We move to. VISITOR #3 ...Six separate doctors? We move to. VISITOR #4 (whispers) ...the little one's falling ill now... We move to. VISITOR #5 ...God help them... A FAMILY PORTRAIT HANGS NEAR THE FRONT DOOR. Two girls, one bigger, one smaller sit on the ground in front of their mother and father. Their smiling faces welcome the mourners. Malcolm and Cole are standing at the bottom of a staircase. Waiting. The front door opens as another group arrives. Malcolm nods to Cole as the foyer fills up. The two of them quietly disappear upstairs.

CUT TO:

INT. HALLWAY - AFTERNOON The narrow hall is lined with boxes of medical supplies. I.V. stands, sterile needles and pads are in the process of being taken away. The boxes are piled outside a closed bedroom door. Cole stares at the shut door like he doesn't want to go in. His eyes move to the large, colorful map of the world that dons the hallway wall. He gazes at the many countries and continents. Beat.

COLE:

I wish I were somewhere else.

MALCOLM:

(soft) Where will you go, where no one has died? Cole stares at the map and then turns to Malcolm.

COLE:

Don't go home, okay?

MALCOLM:

I definitely won't. Cole turns and stares quietly at the door. He waits a long time before reaching for the doorknob.

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INT. GIRL'S BEDROOM - AFTERNOON Cole closes the door behind him. He turns and gazes at the girl's bedroom. There's a hospital bed near the window. The walls are covered with get-well cards and drawings from family, friends, and school children. Her shelves are filled with puppets. All shapes and sizes of puppets. Next to the shelf is a puppet stage and a camcorder on a mini tripod sitting next to it. Cole walks to the shelf and picks up a FINGER PUPPET DANCER. He places it in his pocket. On the girl's desk, is a large collection of video cassettes. The labels read, "Puppet Show Christmas 96," "Puppet Show Birthday party," "Puppet Show class trip"... Cole reads the labels carefully before moving towards the closets. He passes the bed. AN EMACIATED HAND REACHES OUT FROM BENEATH THE BED AND GRABS COLE'S ANKLE. Cole jerks back startled. He watches as the girl's hand slips back under the bed. Cole stays very still. Waits. Nothing happens.He slowly bends down. His hands touch the floor. He tilts his head and looks under the bed. The emaciated little girl who came to his tent lays curled on the floor. Her bulging eyes glare at Cole. She moves suddenly. Thrusts a jewelry box forward. It slides across the wooden floor and stops just before Cole. Cole and the sickly girl stare at each other. Neither of them say a word.

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INT. LIVING ROOM - AFTERNOON The room is thick with mourners. Most are gathered around the GIRL'S MOTHER, a young woman in her late twenties. As she moves through the room to the kitchen, she receives the many cards, hugs, and flowers that are offered as condolence. Mrs. Collins leaves the living room. Malcolm watches breathlessly from the doorway as Cole moves through the many adults across the room. The girl's father, MR. COLLINS, a thin man in his late twenties, is seated on the reading chair next to a T.V. His face is granite. No one in the room dares to talk to him. He stares statue-like at an abstract point in the room.