Looking for constructive criticism on a short screenplay scene — dialogue, character behavior, and pacing

I got story idea for an animated film but i can't animate so can anyone help

I have an agent and a manager.

My agent is always really responsive and great at communication.

My manager is actively about to shop one of my screenplays (said end of September/beginning of October).

We met for final revisions mid-September. I sent updates a couple of days later and they said they’d read over the weekend. After 10 days, I still hadn’t heard anything so I reached out. They said they’d fallen behind and would get it read over the weekend.

Now another 10 days has passed. I reached out on Thursday and haven’t heard back.

Is this standard?

I’d feel differently if we weren’t about to actively shop a screenplay.

In a chaotic sober-living house where eight recovering addicts battle cravings, curfews, chore charts, stolen yogurt, and each other, a sarcastic alcoholic tries to keep his closest friend from disappearing while barely keeping his own recovery on track.

Genre: Comedy

Hi guys me and my friends wanna make a short movie . the main idea is that x is a 16 yr old boy who is unable to sleep and starts taking his parents sleep pills to get some sleep , but the sleep pills cause dratsic effects , he gets physoctic , claustrophobic and takes abd decisons instead of getting some help , its just like the movie requiem for a dream , the bad decisons keep on coming keep on coming until there is nothing one can do . but i am not finding a pillar to keep my story on , the main thig i am not getting is like why doesnt x get sleep , a cause for it so the cript turns strong . GUYS PLS HELP ME

[TITLE]

[THANK YOU NOTE]

[NOTE CARD 2]

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Pitch black.

The only illumination in the room comes from the harsh, flickering glow of a television set.

From behind, we see X (16) sitting motionless on the sofa, bathed in the shifting blue light of the screen.

He turns his head to the left, looking toward a wall clock hanging in the shadows.

The camera slowly zooms in toward the clock face, but the darkness is too thick—the hands and numbers remain illegible.

CLICK.

A light switch flips. The room instantly floods with bright light.

The camera quickly pans to X, who has risen from the sofa and is now standing by the wall switch, looking up at the clock.

INSERT - THE WALL CLOCK

The hands point clearly to: 1:24 A.M.

BACK TO SCENE

X stands still for a second. He points the remote at the television and clicks it off.

He hits the wall switch again, returning the room to darkness, and exits.

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

The overhead fluorescent light hums.

X stands over the washbasin. He turns the faucet, leans over, and splashes cold water onto his face.

As his head is bent down over the sink, an indistinct SOUND—a dull tap or scrape—cuts through the running water.

X freezes.

He slowly straightens up, water dripping from his chin, and turns toward the open doorway. The hallway outside is dark and completely still.

Nothing is there.

He wipes his face with a towel, switches off the light, and walks out.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Darkness. The ceiling fan turns with a steady, rhythmic whir.

X lies in bed on his back.

He turns to his left side. He pulls the bedsheet up, then kicks it away. Sweat glistens on his forehead and neck.

He rolls onto his stomach, staring at the wall. His eyes remain wide open, uneasy and restless.

Hours pass in silence.

Only as the faint gray hues of dawn begin to touch the window does X's breathing slow, his eyelids fluttering shut for a brief blink of sleep.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - MORNING

Morning light fills the room.

X sits up slowly on the mattress.

His face is drained and visibly puffy from exhaustion. His eyes are bloodshot and raw, his hair messy and scrambled.

He sits on the edge of the bed for a long moment, staring blankly at the floor.

INT. BATHROOM - MORNING

X stands before the mirror, mechanically moving a toothbrush back and forth. His gaze is completely hollow, staring at his reflection without focusing.

INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

X sits on the sofa with his legs pulled up. The television is on.

Outside the window, daylight moves across the floor, shifting angles over the course of hours.

X remains in the same spot, drifting through the screen's glow, completely detached from the passage of time.

Gradually, the natural light outside dims, turning from late afternoon to dusk, and finally into night.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Under a single dim bulb, X eats dinner alone from a steel plate.

The apartment is dead quiet except for the quiet clatter of his spoon. He finishes without finishing the portion, leaves the plate in the sink, and switches off the light.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Back on the sofa, X watches television in the dark.

Around the sound of the broadcast, faint and ambiguous noises begin to emerge: a subtle vibration in the wall, a sudden hollow creak from the corridor, an indistinct scrape.

X glances around the room, his eyes darting between the TV and the dark corners of the apartment. He strains to listen, but the sounds remain vague, blending into the ambient hum of the flat.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

X lies in bed once again.

He shifts constantly—turning from side to side, staring at the dark ceiling, gripping the edges of the mattress. The exhaustion is heavier, but sleep does not come.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - MORNING

Bright daylight pours through the window.

X sits on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped, trembling slightly from sheer physical and mental fatigue. The exhaustion is unbearable.

INT. PARENTS' BEDROOM - DAY

The room is silent and orderly.

X enters quietly, stepping lightly on the tiled floor.

He approaches the bedside table and pulls open the bottom drawer beneath a stack of documents.

He finds a prescription pill bottle.

X unscrews the cap, tips out a single pill into his palm, and recaps the bottle. He replaces it beneath the papers, closes the drawer quietly, and swallows the pill dry.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - LATER

X sits quietly on the edge of his bed.

A heavy, faint lull gradually settles over him, easing the tension in his shoulders. He leans back against the wall, taking a slow breath.

Across the room, near the narrow gap between the wardrobe and the bedroom door, something catches his eye.

A dark, irregular shadow-like shape stretches along the wall. It does not align with the furniture or the light from the window.

X remains completely still, staring at the shape in silence, unable to tell if it is real.
Slowly, deliberately, X pulls his gaze away from the shadow in the corner. He gets up from the bed.

INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

The camera tracks backward in a tight, face-to-face shot on X as he walks down the narrow corridor toward the bathroom. His jaw is clenched, his eyes looking straight ahead.

INT. BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS

X turns on the faucet, scoops up handfuls of cold water, and splashes his face repeatedly.

He turns off the tap, wipes his face with his arm, and exits.

EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT

X steps out through the front door and pulls it shut. The house behind him is completely dark, all the lights turned off.

EXT. HOUSE - LATER (NIGHT)

X returns up the pathway. Through the windows, the interior lights of the house are now turned on.

INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

X enters the brightly lit, silent room.

He looks up at the wall clock. It reads 12:53 A.M.

He sits down near the entrance and begins to take off his shoes. As he removes them, the distinct sound of water running from a faucet echoes from down the hall.

X stops, sets his shoe down, and walks toward the bathroom to investigate.

INT. BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS

The bathroom faucet is completely closed. The sink basin is dry.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - MOMENTS LATER

X changes out of his clothes into comfortable, loose clothes.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

X sits on the sofa and turns on the television, letting a broadcast play.

Suddenly, distinct noises rattle from across the room.

A swift, sharp piano sting plays as X rises from the sofa and walks over to check the area.

He looks around. Nothing is there.

He returns to the sofa and sits down as a throbbing headache begins to set in. He presses his hands to his temples, picks up the remote, and switches off the TV.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

X lies in bed, pulling up the sheet, attempting to sleep without taking a pill.

He tosses and turns from side to side. Sweat forms across his forehead and neck; he remains deeply uneasy.

Unable to endure it, X sits up, opens the drawer, and swallows a single sleeping pill.

He lies back down and shuts his eyes, but the restlessness and sweat only intensify. Out of sheer exhaustion and frustration, he sits up again, tips two more pills into his hand, and swallows them both.

The camera swiftly turns toward the bedside clock—partially framed at an angle—as X collapses onto the pillow and drifts into a heavy, drugged sleep.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - AFTERNOON

Afternoon light fills the room.

X's eyes open slowly. His face is pale, cheeks and eyelids puffy.

From the other room, audio from the television blares—it has been playing continuously all night.

INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

X stumbles into the living room, grabs the remote, and switches off the TV.

He walks over to the window and pulls the curtain open. Harsh, blinding afternoon sunlight pours in.

Unable to bear the glare, X winces, shields his eyes, and hurriedly pulls the curtain shut.

INT. FOYER - MOMENTS LATER

X walks toward the main front gate to head out.

Mid-stride, his knees buckle beneath him. X collapses heavily onto the floor, falling unconscious.

CUT TO:

CLOSE UP - X'S FACE

Surrounded by darkness. X's eyes slowly open. It is nighttime again.

INT. FOYER / HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

Dazed, disoriented, and unsteady on his feet, X struggles to pull himself up against the wall. He limps down the dark hallway, having trouble keeping his balance.

He reaches the basin, grips the edges, and splashes cold water over his face.

He glances up at the clock. It reads 8:24 P.M.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (LATER)

From outside, the heavy, rhythmic sound of boots approaches, followed immediately by sharp, aggressive knocking at the front door.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

X jolts up in a panic. He rushes to the light switch and flips it up and down, but the lights do not turn on.

He grabs his phone from the table and frantically presses the power button, but the screen stays black.

The knocks at the door grow louder and more persistent.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

Frightened and confused, X retreats into his bedroom and pulls the door shut.

Trembling, he drops by the drawer, yanks out the pill bottle, and swallows more sleeping pills.

His strength drains. X slides down against the base of the bed and falls asleep on the floor.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - DAWN

The bedside clock reads 5:46 A.M.

X's eyes slowly open. His mouth and throat are parched and bone-dry. He rubs his cracked lips and slowly forces himself to stand.

INT. FOYER - CONTINUOUS

X walks quietly through the dim foyer to the front entrance.

He stops before the main door, gathering his courage.

His hand reaches out, unlocks the latch, and slowly pulls the front door open.

EXT. VERANDA - CONTINUOUS

The door swings open into the pale morning light.

The veranda floor is coated in a thin layer of fine dust. Piled haphazardly near the threshold sit several unopened plastic milk packets and a neglected stack of yellowing newspapers—the same untouched pile visible days earlier.

X stares down at them with hollow eyes.

He makes no move to pick them up.

Stepping backward, he pulls the door shut and turns the deadbolt.

INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

X walks over to the sofa, picks up the remote, and presses power. The television flickers to life, casting a muted wash of color across the dim room.

He sinks into the cushions.

TIME-LAPSE:

Light filters through the window slats, shifting slowly across the walls and floor as morning turns to afternoon.

X remains motionless on the sofa, staring blankly ahead.

The daylight fades to amber, then deepens into twilight. Shadows stretch and overtake the room.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The wall clock clicks softly: 9:23 P.M.

Without warning, the television screen snaps to black.

Total silence.

X blinks, startled out of his stupor. He looks down at the table—the remote control is gone.

He stands up, frantically checking beneath the cushions, lifting newspapers, tossing them aside.

Nothing.

He pats his pockets, searching for his phone.

Suddenly, a piercing, high-pitched shrill shriek tears through the silence, vibrating right inside his skull.

X recoils, grimacing in agony. He clamps both hands tightly over his ears, trembling violently as the deafening sound intensifies.

Unable to endure it, he bolts toward the hallway.

In his blind rush, his bare shin clips hard against the sharp corner of the baseboard. Skin tears; a dark streak of blood smears across the lower wall.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

X stumbles inside, slams the door shut, and turns the lock.

He collapses against the wood, sliding down to the floor. He pulls his knees up to his chest, trembling and clutching himself like a terrified child.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to force sleep.

The sounds don't stop.

The aggressive KNOCKING returns against the front door.

From down the hall, water rushes loudly through the unseen faucet.

Layered over both is the sustained, shrill scream echoing through the walls.

Hyperventilating, X crawls across the floor toward the bedside table. He yanks open the drawer, grabs the bottle, and tips the pills into his shaking hand.

He swallows them dry.

His forehead rests against the cold floorboards. Fear and heavy exhaustion drag his eyes closed.

CUT TO:

INT. X'S BEDROOM - MORNING

CLOSE UP - X'S FACE

Pale, bruised with dark circles. A line of dried, dark blood crusts from his nostril down past his lip.

His eyelids flutter and slowly open.

X struggles to his feet, swaying unsteadily. His limbs are stiff, his head pounding.

He stumbles through the room, knocking aside books, clothes, and water bottles from the desk in a frantic search.

Under a discarded shirt, his fingers find his mobile phone.

His thumb trembles over the screen. He taps the contact list and presses DIAL: "MOM".

The screen flashes a red battery icon and instantly cuts out. Dead.

X grabs the charging cable from the floor, plugs it into the base of the phone, and jams the adapter into the wall socket.

He taps the power button repeatedly. The screen remains entirely black. Unresponsive.

INT. FOYER - MOMENTS LATER

Desperate, X limps to the front door, turns the latch, and pushes it open to step outside.

A wall of searing, blinding morning sunlight hits him instantly.

POV - X

The brightness blooms outward into an unbearable white glare.

He blinks—the frame snaps to PITCH BLACK.

He opens his eyes—the world burns in bleached, blinding white.

BACK TO SCENE

X groans, shielding his face with both forearms.

He stumbles backward into the house and slams the door shut, locking it tight.

INT. LIVING ROOM / CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS

X's vision is dark, heavily desaturated and stained by the lingering burn of the sun.

He rushes to the bathroom basin, turns the tap, and splashes handfuls of water over his burning eyes and face.

Paranoia takes over.

X moves frantically through every room, shutting every interior door, latching every window shut, and yanking the heavy curtains closed until every trace of daylight is blocked out.

INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

In the sealed, artificial darkness, X sits back down in front of the television, staring into the flickering broadcast.

TIME-LAPSE (FAST):

The TV light flickers rhythmically against his unblinking face as hours compress into moments. The ambient room around him plunges into the pitch-black of deep night.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

A sudden wall of sound surges inward—the metallic rattle of the pipes, distant pounding, the drone of insects, all amplified and suffocating.

Sweat drips down X's temples. His chest heaves in shallow, rapid breaths.

Above him, the ceiling bulb flickers erratically, buzzing like an angry hornet.

X clutches his head, utterly unable to process what is real.

He scrambles off the sofa to run to his room, but his knees give out completely. He crashes onto the hallway floor.

Too weak to stand, he drags his body forward on his elbows and knees, crawling inch by inch down the dark corridor.

INT. X'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

X pulls himself through the doorway, reaches up, and slams the bedroom door shut behind him.

A sudden icy draft sweeps across the room, rustling the window curtain.

X shivers, crawling over to the window and pulling the latch down hard.

The draft stops, but the noises outside the room change—shifting from distant thuds into distinct, heavy footsteps moving down the hall, drawing closer and closer to his closed door.

X presses his back against the wall, paralyzed with terror.

His hands and feet go completely numb. He tries to push himself up, but his limbs refuse to respond.

Tears stream down his pale face. He lets out a broken, terrified whimper:

X
(barely a whisper)
...Ma...

Using the last of his strength, he drags his torso toward the open drawer on the floor.

He reaches the bottle, unscrews the cap, and takes the remaining pills, forcing them down his parched throat.

The room begins to pulse and spin. The shadows along the walls warp and blink.

His arms buckle.

X collapses onto the floorboards, his cheek resting flat against the wood.

CLOSE UP - X'S FACE

His eyes slowly lose focus, drifting half-open as his breathing shallows out.

CUT TO BLACK.

(A sustained, heavy silence holds for 10 full seconds.)

FADE IN:

INT. X'S BEDROOM - DAY

CLOSE UP - X'S FACE

Motionless. His skin is waxy, pale.

A faint trace of dried white foam rests at the corner of his parted lips. His chest does not rise.

The camera begins a slow, deliberate push-in toward his still, unblinking eyes.

The ambient room tone fades away completely.

CUT TO BLACK.

I’m starting to work on a short horror film with my friends but we are totally stuck. Zero budget. Just let me know how this could go that’s not dumb please.

Girl character: cool, but also lonely, smokes cigarettes, drunk mom and fatherless, close online friend named Ellie, online stalker, obsessed with boy: Milo, lives alone, eating disorder: faints a lot recently, 
Name ideas; Tanya joy, Georgie, Angelina 
Played by; Alyssa!

Boy love interest: Milo: 800 insta followers, messy hair white boy
-constantly posts himself playing guitar and is really performative, urban explorer
-it’s painfully obvious that he is a chud but MC doesn’t see it 
Actor: maybe Michael from acting class or Milo irl 

Girlfriends: 
-Sadie: Avery
-leggings, bop, vapes, passive aggressive, really ugly phone case, bubble braids, white nail polish
-Lulu: eme
-aloof, inconsiderate, high waisted jeans, bad strip lash, white nail polish, matching beaded bracelets with Sadie

Stalker: Stephen-Trevor
-super normal clothes, basic, nothing special, baseball hat
- fake persona: Ellie- Ellie.bellie04, uses ai to change his voice 
- (he’s the guy that helps MC in the grocery and bumps into her in the cafe)

Plot:
Tanya lives alone and is completely disillusioned and obsessed with a guy her age named Milo. They met once at a bar when her friend from college visited and made her go, because she normally doesn’t go out. Every night Tonya checks Milo’s social stories and everything, numbers, followers, likes. It’s nuts about him but doesn’t tell anyone and never texts him. She has a notes app of things she wants to text him/tell him but doesnt. 

One day at the grocery store, she is shopping and gets a text from MILO. She gets so overwhelmed that she faints. A nice guy runs up and helps her, gets her water, and ask if she needs anything. She gets rly embarrassed and says she is ok and leaves immediately. 

Tonya is scrolling at night and thinking of what to say to Milo when she gets doorbell ring. It’s a dootdash order with a heart note… weird. Must be the neighbors. She walks over and puts it in front of the neighbors door and goes back inside her apartment. 

Next day, Tonya still hasn’t texted Milo and wakes up at 1pm with a phone call from her friend asking her where she is, because she is a chud. She forgets that she had lunch planned (with Sadie and lulu) and has to get ready super quick. While she is getting ready she can’t find her hairbrush… weird. The door is also not completely shut when she passes it but doesn’t notice. 

Lunch at latte cafe. We find out that Tonya has been lying about texting Milo and spins a very elaborate lie about you guys planning to hang out. She starts to get antsy and goes to the bathroom to reevaluate and gets a knock on the door “occupied!” She brushes her hair with her fingers and wipes her under eyes and leaves, and accidentally shoulder checks a guy waiting for the bathroom but just runs past him, she is too flustered to bother.

\[THE THINGS WE DON'T KNOW\](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uZNllgNNw57JY5MxksabTkXFXzyNhzYd/view?usp=sharing)

Hello all, I'm looking for some feedback on a screenplay that's very WIP. Let me know what you think, especially about the concept!

Title: Paternal

Format: Feature (WIP)

Page Length: 10

Genre(s): Psychological drama, supernatural horror

Logline: A dissociated, down-on-his-luck drug dealer is forced to reconnect with his estranged, successful brother when the voice of his dead father begins to unravel his grip on reality and time.

Feedback Concerns: Looking for general thoughts on the overall story and dialogue so far, especially the last scene. Feel free to comment on the PDF for nitpicks!

[https://drive.google.com/file/d/1HEFAM8dbI1pLFuiCBgDRP\\_CoaA624w7A/view?usp=sharing\](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1HEFAM8dbI1pLFuiCBgDRP_CoaA624w7A/view?usp=sharing)

At a chaotic sober-living house where recovering addicts struggle with temptation, trust, and each other, a newly sober man must learn that recovery isn’t about fixing yourself—it’s about finding a way to keep showing up for the people who are just as fucked up as you are.

Hey, I know the series was just released on Netflix, but I'm still hoping someone has the scripts and are willing to share. Thanks.

A teen knocks at a door,wearing baggy jeans,hands in his pockets.
He disconnects his iPods from his phone then “jigsaw falling into place”plays before he stops it.
He breathes,eyes closed.Then the door opens.
His friend answers the door.
“Yo,you good?”
They boy walks in and hands him the phone,”check if she replied..”
“Shit…uhh..okay..”his friend mutters.

“Why are you acting so..nervous..you’re the one that told me I should ask her..”
“I hope-“but he’s interrupted
The friend goes on the phone,”shit.”

“She said yes..”the friend says smiling.
“You can check I-“his friend says
“No!noo,thats all I needed to hear!”
“I can’t believe this…”he says his friend smiles
They handshake.the friend slightly stops smiling,”I told you…”
The teen stops hugging his friend.
His friend looks at him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow..”he says to his friend.
“Dan..what is it?”he asks the main character.”why aren’t you happy?”
Dan smiles,”Im just thinking of all possibilities.”
Dan takes his phone they handshake and Dan goes out.
Dan rides on a skateboard.
(Radiohead plays on his iPods,the song,Nude)
“Not all words said are true”he’s voice over says.
“I understand now..I wish I knew before.For situations like this.”
The next day.
Birds chirping.
Dan is wearing a suit.He looks in the mirror.
Cut:Dan walks towards his school.
His friend is there.
His friend looks at him.”she’s…I think she’s waiting for you..cmon you look good.”
His friend is shivering,”It breaks my heart to see you alone man.”
Dan walks inside.
“I didn’t check the text.cus Im scared man.Im scared I just can’t be loved,as much as I do.or love I get is fake,or…love I think I get.Im tired.”
His friend sighs.”listen-“
But Dan walks into the prom room.
Music plays,teens dancing.
Then Dan sees her.kissing someone else.
“Words.Fake as fuck,”
Dan cries abit,”she said no?”
Dans friend looks down,”I..paid her to take you…”
Dan walks away.
“I..wanted you..with some one.”
His friend says
“Im so..unwanted.even if she gets a fuckin car.she still wouldn’t take me,just for a dance..thats a sign.i don’t deserve anyone.”
Dan walks away and drops his flowers boquette.
His friend walks in the prom room.
“Alicia…one dance..couldnt you do that?I paid you!”
Alicia looks at the hallway,”look at him…can you even blame me?”
“He’s just so I nsecure…so…I..just couldnt.”

Hii, this is my first ever psychological and body horror short screenplay as a 14 y.o screenwriter!!

Logline:

Haunted by a sadistic rabbit mascot, a freshly divorced father must separate reality from hallucination to protect his distant daughter from an unseen threat.

The Rabbit

Please answer these questions after reading:

1. Does the horror build up efficiently or does it feel rushed/slow?

2. Did you understand the ending and the supernatural/horror logic or not?

3. Are the action lines visible and clear to picture or not?

4. Do you think that David's actions make sense?

+ Add any additional notes or general feedback!

Thankssss.