Veronika Decides to Die

Now, let's see.

After you decide that I'm depressed, or whatever,

you'll put me on meds, right?

And I know hundreds of people on them

and they're all doing just fine. Really.

I'll go back to work on my new anti-depressants.

I'll have dinner with my parents

and persuade them I'm back to being the normal one

who never gives them any trouble.

And one day some guy will ask me to marry him.

He'll be nice enough. That'll make my parents very happy.

The first year we'll make love all the time,

and in the second and third less and less.

But just as we're getting sick of each other, I'll get pregnant.

Taking care of kids, holding onto jobs, paying mortgages...

It'll keep us on an even keel for a while.

Then about ten years into it he'll have an affair

because I'm too busy and I'm too tired.

And I'll find out.

I'll threaten to kill him, his mistress,

myself.

We'll get past it.

A few years later he'll have another one.

This time I'm just going to pretend that I don't know because...

Somehow kicking up a fuss just doesn't seem worth the trouble this time.

And I'll live out the rest of my days

sometimes wishing my kids could have the life that I never had.

Other times secretly pleased they're turning into repeats of me.

I'm fine. Really.

Green is not the new black.

Hasn't anyone else noticed that everyone has gone totally insane?

Why are we all so afraid to look at things as they really are?

Slogans like this have succeeded in distracting us all

from the things that really matter.

There's no other escape.

I want people to know that I'm killing myself

rather than participate in the collective madness of this world

we are all living in.

This is not the real world.

Goodbye.

Open this!

Hurry, call 911!

Needle is going in.

She's at 100 over 60. - Let's get that BP up!

It's dropping fast. It's at 80 over 40.

Let's get her inside! - Prepare the patient for acls.

Could you please send in my 9115?

Edward!

Come on now, Edward.

I wanted to let you know

that your father's annual visit is scheduled for next week.

He'll be asking me if you've made any progress.

Have you made any progress, Edward?

You know, villette works for the great majority of people who come here.

The last two times your father visited

I suggested he bring you home, but...

Well...

I'm certain he believes you being here is for the best.

What do you think of that, Edward?

Nurse!

Relax. We're going to take good care of you.

Relax.

There we go.

Good. Good girl.

Veronika...

You were in a coma in intensive care for two weeks

before being well enough to be with us here.

Where am I?

Villette.

Villette?

A privately funded psychiatric facility on the Hudson river.

Our director Dr. Blake has taken a special interest in your case.

You're shrinks...

Why am I here? Who put me here?

Your parents approved it.

Veronika, can I ask you a few questions?

Your date of birth?

December 24th, 2000-

1981.

Your address?

Your place of employment?

Freeman Stanley.

Your position?

Assistant accounts executive.

Seventy five thousand a year plus additional health benefits included.

The color of your mother's hair?

I don't remember.

The color of my hair?

Blonde.

Are you sure?

"Deklava" is slovenian?

Your parents are- - my parents left before I was born.

We get along just fine, if that's what you're wondering.

Look, how long do i have to stay here?

Unfortunately, we have some difficult news in that regard.

Does somebody want to tell me what's going on?

That's yours. - Oh.

Veronika, when you took the overdose your heart stopped.

And you suffered a heart attack which caused a ventricular aneurysm.

In layman's terms,

you have damaged the mechanism that pumps blood into the heart

which has caused irreversible damage to it.

The heart attack produced a scar which in time became an aneurysm.

I'm afraid the aneurysm is so large it's inoperable.

It will get bigger and bigger every day, until it finally ruptures.

So I'm going to die after all?

I'm afraid so.

Well, how long do I have?

A year? Years?

Exact estimates are impossible.

Not years.

Okay, so six months? Five months? Four months?

It could be any time.

It may only be a matter of weeks, at most.

I have to wait that long?

Well...

If I succeeded, why don't you just kill me now?

This might be too much for you to take in.

Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes.

I think we've said enough for now.

We think this is the best place for you.

We'll be giving you regular shots for your heart

which may make you feel a little tired.

But we'll do everything we can to make your last days here

as pleasant as possible.

Do my parents know?

No. No, not yet.

You can't tell them.

I think we've said enough for now.

Natasha, would you please... - Yes, doctor.

860, 861, 862,

863, 864, 865.

There you are. Better?

I'm your roommate, Claire.

This place isn't so bad, you know.

They have really good drugs.

I'm leaving any day now,

but not before I have one more round of my coma treatment.

You're really pretty.

I'm going to tell you the trick of this place.

It's a story.

Once upon a time

there was a powerful wizard who wanted to destroy a whole kingdom.

And to do this he poured a magic potion into the well

from which all the citizens drank.

Anyone who tasted it would go mad.

And the king,

when he saw his people so changed he was terrified.

He was preparing to leave the city when the queen stopped him,

saying, "let us drink from the well,

we'll be the same as they are."

And so they drank from the communal well of madness

and they were immediately as insane as their subjects.

And so the king was allowed to continue ruling in peace

for the rest of his days.

So...

Learn to think as those around you think

and you can pass yourself off as anything.

You think outsiders are any less crazy than we are?

I'm not crazy.

Are you really going to die?

Who told you that?

Oh, you know. The talk. Talk, talk.

Blah, blah, talk, talk.

I don't want to wait.

Do you know how I could get my hands on something?

Really?

Come have a smoke with me.

No thanks. - Oh, come on.

Get dressed.

You don't want them to think you're crazy.

You want to come outside with me, ed?

Ask mari, she'll tell you how to get the pills.

She's been here the longest out of all the patients.

Her clique has the best deal here.

They don't have to take their meds unless they feel like it.

She was a lawyer on the outside and she was married to one too.

And then she lost her job and she had a breakdown and she ended up here.

Her marriage is over too.

And she's really close to Dr. Blake.

You think she'll help me?

I don't know.

If she doesn't want to talk to you, she won't.

What about him?

Ed.

I know. He's gorgeous.

You can't actually talk to him.

Mari has a way with him,

but no one else.

He was dumped here a few years ago.

Years?

That's what happens.

He was in an accident

and then by the time he was fixed he had stopped talking.

His girlfriend was in the car with him.

She died instantly.

And he thinks he killed her.

What do they say is wrong with him? - Oh god, it changes all the time.

Catatonia, schizo, all these names.

No use getting interested in him. He doesn't care about anybody.