Bird Box

OVER BLACK:

Two brisk hand CLAPS.

The sound of a woman’s voice.

MALORIE (V.O.)

Listen to me carefully. Because I’m

only going to say this once.

HARD OPEN ON:

The face of MALORIE.

Late 20s, early 30s. No makeup. No hair products.

Stress waging war with exhaustion.

Around her, a dimly-lit living room.

Blankets cover the windows.

She speaks right to us:

MALORIE:

We are going on a trip now. Taking

the rowboat down the river. It

could be a long trip. It could be

quick. But the important thing is

that you both do every single thing

I say. Understand?

REVERSE ON:

A BOY and a GIRL. Both four years old.

Underfed. Big, attentive eyes.

Wearing scarves around their necks. They nod.

BOY:

Yes.

GIRL:

Yes.

MALORIE:

It’s cold now, but it will warm up

when the sun is high. You have your

blankets. Girl:
You have your

puzzle pieces. There is nothing

more you need from here. Do you

understand me?

BOY:

Yes.

GIRL:

Yes.

In the girl’s hand: three jigsaw pieces.

Her fingers toy with them absently.

2.

MALORIE:

Under no circumstances will either

one of you remove your blindfolds.

If I find that you have, I will

hurt you. Do you understand?

They nod. Boy mutters:

BOY:

Yes.

MALORIE:

I need you both to listen as close

as you can. On the river. Listen

beyond the water, into the woods.

If you hear anything in those

woods, tell me. If you hear

something in the water, you tell

me. Understand?

GIRL:

Yes.

BOY:

Yes.

MALORIE:

Don’t talk just to pass the time.

Girl, you will sit up front and

Boy, you’ll be in the back. When we

get to the boat I will guide you to

your place. I will be rowing.

GIRL:

Do we need our bicycle bells?

Malorie’s eyes get wet. She holds it in.

MALORIE:

No. Not for this trip. Now, put

your folds on.

Boy and Girl work the blindfolds over their eyes.

MALORIE (CONT’D)

Are they good and tight?

Boy gives her a thumbs-up.

So does Girl.

INT. FOYER - MOMENTS LATER

Malorie leads Boy and Girl.

3.

She reaches the back door.

Boards cover the door’s glass inset.

Boy and Girl hold hands.

Girl’s knuckles go white.

Boy squeezes back.

On the floor by the door: A bird cage.

Inside:
A little, fat budgie.

Malorie bends down, cups her hands...

And transfers the bird to a shoebox.

It coos at her as she covers the box and hefts it.

Malorie then picks up her blindfold.

Before donning it, she looks around.

Inside, all is quiet and still.

A land-line phone sits on the coffee table.

Nothing else around it. As if it were a holy relic.

Malorie secures her blindfold.

Reaches out and grips the door handle.

Takes a breath.

MALORIE:

(sotto)

Twenty, thirty-one, fifty-four.

Twenty, thirty-one, fifty-four.

(then)

Here we go.

With trembling hand, she opens the door.

EXT. HOUSE - MORNING

TIGHT on Malorie’s face.

Advancing into the back yard.

Whispering under her breath.

TIGHT on Boy and Girl.

They form a train behind her.

Girl crooks her head left and right.

In the distance, a generator thrums.

Glimpses of:
yellowed grass. Overcast sky. It’s cold.

Malorie steps carefully.

MALORIE:

(sotto)

Eighteen, nineteen... twenty.

4.

Her hand reaches out to her right...

And finds a fence post.

She pivots and marches another direction.

Farther away from the house.

Slightly downhill.

Boy and Girl take note of this shift.

GIRL:

(whispered)

Left.

BOY:

(whispered)

Okay.

The three march on.

MALORIE:

(sotto)

Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one.

Malorie raises her hand...

And touches a tree branch.

She lets out a breath of relief.

And she changes direction once more.

Boy and Girl adapt.

The sound of the river creeps in.

Malorie quietly counts her steps.

Then:
A sound. Rustling.

The sigh of foliage.

Boy’s ear perks.

He pauses.

It stops the train.

Boy and Girl turn their heads the same direction.

Beat. Listening.

Then, another rustle.

Back the way they came.

The budgie inside the shoebox CHIRPS.

Its wings scrape against the box lid.

GIRL:

(sotto)

Malorie.

5.

Malorie tenses and starts them moving.

Faster now.

MALORIE:

(sotto)

Forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-

two, fifty three... fifty-four.

The sound of the river is close.

Malorie reaches out and down...

But her fingers grasp air.

No landmark here.

Malorie sweeps her arm around.

Still nothing.

Somewhere off to the right:

Leaves rustle. Closer. The budgie CHIRPS in distress.

Girl tugs at Malorie’s arm.

Malorie starts to hyperventilate.

She steps forward. Groping.

MALORIE (CONT’D)

(sotto)

Fifty-five.

Rustle.

MALORIE (CONT’D)

(sotto)

Fifty-six-

BOY:

Getting closer-

Her fingers stretch-And

touch the end of a ROWBOAT.

Malorie puts a foot in the boat and lifts Girl inside.

Then Boy. And follows them in.

The three push off, into the river’s flow.

As Malorie begins to row. A branch CRACKS nearby.

The oar dips into the water.

CUT TO:

Malorie’s hand dips into soapy bath water. We’re now in:

6.

INT. MALORIE’S BATHROOM - DAY

Malorie drains her tub after a bath. She’s wrapped a towel

around her head, partly dressed in bra and panties, so it’s

clear she is six months pregnant.

This is five years earlier. She looks radiant, bright-eyed,

and when she unwraps the towel, LONG HAIR flows out.

Malorie runs a hand over her baby bump. Questioning.

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