Ginger Snaps 2: Unleashed

Out by 16 or dead in the scene, but

together forever.

Lie down!

Lie down!

Thought you were gonna die.

I'm changing... full moons have nothing

to do with it.

It's like an infection... it works from

the inside out.

It's like a virus.

Something is really, really wrong with

me.

I can't be like this.

This is monkshood.

I don't know if you smoke it or eat it

or what,

but I need to try it now.

Ginger!

Please, it's me...

I'm onto you.

You come in here late at night,

you stay until all the other avid

readers are gone.

You're attracted to me, but you fear

rejection.

So you bide your time,

just kind of waiting for that perfect

moment.

Don't worry, I've been dealing with

this all my life.

I'm kidding.

Your fly's open.

Okay.

Perfect.

Yeah.

Yeah, I indulge in the occasional

bloodletting myself.

Okay.

Brigitte Fitzgerald.

Unfortunately you have quite the

overdue account.

And technically, if you have more than

$6 owing, I'm just...

Okay, well, I'll see you later.

You're healing faster, aren't you?

That sh*t's not a cure, you know.

Itjust slows the transformation.

It doesn't stop it, B.

Nothing will stop it.

What are you doing?

You already dosed today.

It's poison, B.

You can't keep shooting it.

Remember that game we used to play

when we were little?

The one where we would

make ourselves hold our breath until

we passed out?

Then you'd always get scared and call

Mom

and I'd get in trouble?

That game really sucked.

Do you feel it?

You're not alone.

He's found you again.

Hi, this is a major breach of library

policy,

but I brought you the books.

Are you okay?

What did you take?

Okay.

Come on, come on.

Come on.

Get in the truck.

Watch your head.

I'm gonna get you some help, okay?

Okay. Okay.

You're gonna be okay, okay?

I'm gonna get you some help.

No!

Hey, sleepyhead.

It's time.

"She learned their habits.

She collected their secrets like

weapons,

for one day she would escape and"...

Hi.

I'm Alice Seversen.

I run the community outreach program

here at Happier Times Care Center.

Would you like a seat?

Your library card, which was the only

ID that we could find on you,

said that your name was Brigitte.

Is that true?

Did you find him?

Find who?

The librarian guy... Jeremy.

It came through the window.

It attacked him.

No, you suffered a near fatal

anaphylactic reaction.

Listen,

I saw a guy die.

His blood was on my face.

You did have blood on your face, but

it was from the cuts on your arms.

I saw it.

When I was using,

I was convinced that the deaf

Norwegian prep cook,

who lived in the apartment over, was

trying to amputate my legs.

Come in.

- Hi.

- Brigitte, this is Luke.

He's gonna need a blood sample.

My guess is you're not afraid of

needles.

Due to cutbacks, facilities like ours

have had to get creative.

Girls on drugs don't go over too well

in private funding circles.

So, three years ago we became a

dual-care facility.

We house chronic-care patients from

the hospital system.

Barbara was badly burned in a fire.

That's her granddaughter.

She's here until we find her a foster

home.

The hospital was built in the 1920s

to quarantine tuberculosis patients,

but ours is the only unit that is

still functional.

The other wings have been closed for

years,

- and are strictly out-of-bounds.

- Little freak.

So, you start in lock-up, which we

maintain through your withdrawal,

and then we go from there based on

your progress.

"Had she realized her captors were

capable of terrifying feats?"

- Brigitte, Ghost. Ghost, Brigitte.

- "That at night they used to torture

their prisoners in vats of pig grease?

She had!

She ran for her life!"

Excuse me, ladies.

It's your choice...

we take you or you come.

We've got a bleeder.

I'm Tyler.

This is Marcus.

That's your cue to tell us your name.

Your own clothes are being cleaned.

I'm writing again,

which feels like coming home,

because...

well, it's what I do.

And I feel exhilarated and scared

because I... I have to face

unadulterated truth when I'm writing.

Like the fact that my chemical

dependency is:

A, related to stuff that happened to

me as a child;

and B, that I have to explore that

stuff

with you all here;

and C, this time there's no holding

back.

Dr. Brookner, if she doesn't shut up

I swear I'll make her drink her piss

again.

She'll do no such thing, Wnnie.

Brigitte, you have a room of people

pretty curious about Brigitte.

And incidentally, a room full of

people who think you really suck at suicide.

What's your best-case scenario, hmm?

Go there.

What a loser.

My best-case scenario, Eleanor,

is hair everywhere but my eyeballs,

elongation of my spine till my skin

splits,

teats, and a growing tolerance, maybe

even affection for,

the smell and taste of feces... not

just my own...

and then, excruciating death.

You know, Brigitte,

some girls find group useful.

- I can't be here.

- You're feverish.

But don't worry, that's common.

Would you like to talk about what you

were shooting?

I didn't recognize it myself, which is

kind of impressive...

there's not a lot you can stick that I

haven't been familiar with.

It must be great to be a role model.

Hmm.

Do you mind?

So, tell me...

why were you timing how long it takes

your cuts to heal?

Look, Alice,

if I was messed up in the way you

think I am,

I would really appreciate someone like

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes