EXT. URBAN BLOCK – SUMMER DUSK
Humidity. Cicadas. A sodium streetlight flickers awake.
Basketball echoes between brick row houses.
Across the street: a tired two-story with a sagging porch and a
hand-painted sign: DORSEY HOME.
In the bushes along the fence: MARCUS (16)—swagger, leader; TIA
(15)—smart, guarded; JAMAL (15)—loud until he’s not;
and LEX (14)—new, eager, unsure.
Marcus raises his phone to record.
MARCUS
Three knocks, then bounce. Tradition.
Lex swallows, nods. He darts up the steps and raps—
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Inside, a chair SCRAPES. The door opens.
MS. DORSEY (70s) steps into the dim porch light. One eye milky,
the other sharp. Behind her linger two foster kids:
AVA (12) in a wheelchair; BEN (10)—watchful, quiet.
She listens to the night like it’s breathing.
MS. DORSEY (soft)
Toy with them… and they shall come.
The teens stifle laughter and scatter into twilight.
TITLE: TOY WITH THEM AND THEY SHALL COME
EXT. CORNER BODEGA – NIGHT
Marcus replays the clip for a couple neighborhood kids. Snickers.
He soaks in the attention.
Across the street, a WHITE MINIVAN sits with lights off. Parked.
Legal. Present.
INT. MARCUS'S BEDROOM – LATE NIGHT
Dark. A dog barks somewhere far.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Marcus sits up, frozen. Again—
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
He peels the curtain. On the sidewalk, MS. DORSEY and BEN. Still.
Looking at the house, not the window. After a beat,
they turn and walk away.
Marcus lets the curtain fall. No swagger now.
Genres:
["Drama","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
2 -
The Creepy Doll Incident
EXT. TIA'S PORCH – MORNING
Tia opens her door to find a SMALL DOLL sitting upright on the
top step. One eye stuck shut.
Next to it: her porch bulb, carefully UNSCREWED.
She scans the street. The WHITE MINIVAN is half a block down. She
pockets the doll.
INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY – DAY
Lockers slam. A flood of voices. The four huddle tight.
TIA
Someone left a creepy doll on my steps.
JAMAL
That’s kinda funny.
TIA
Is it?
MARCUS
Probably Lex. Rookie tax.
LEX
Wasn’t me.
MARCUS
It’s just a game.
TIA
Then why was their van on my block?
LEX
It’s weird, man.
MARCUS
What’s weird is acting scared of an old
lady.
A bell SHRIEKS. They split. Lex glances through a window. On the
far corner: MS. DORSEY with AVA.
Waiting. Watching the crosswalk like any elder.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
3 -
Twilight Tension
EXT. JAMAL'S FRONT DOOR – TWILIGHT
Jamal unlocks. The door swings in, revealing three STACKS OF
PENNIES on the welcome mat. Symmetrical. Precise.
He nudges the stacks with a sneaker. A penny tings, rolls.
He looks out—AVA in her chair, BEN behind her, on the sidewalk.
They face the street, not his house.
JAMAL
Yo… you need something?
No answer. They turn and go. Jamal locks three locks.
INT. LEX'S BEDROOM – NIGHT
A nightlight. The doll (from Tia) sits on the dresser now—passed
as a “joke.” Lex tries not to look.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. From the back door.
He kills the light, peels a blind. In the alley: MS. DORSEY and
BEN, beyond the fence. Legal. Patient. Present.
Her face is calm. Not taunting. Just there. Lex lowers the blind,
shaking.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
4 -
Confrontation and Reflection
EXT. SIDEWALK – DAY
The four move fast, talking over each other.
MARCUS
We end it. Face to face. Clean.
TIA
Or we stop and they stop.
JAMAL
We did stop.
LEX
What if she doesn’t?
Marcus keeps walking.
EXT. DORSEY HOME – DAY
Daylight makes the house look less haunted, more tired. Marcus
climbs the steps. Three measured taps.
The door opens. MS. DORSEY. BEN peeks. AVA rolls closer.
MARCUS
We get it. We crossed a line. We’re done.
Can you leave us alone?
Ms. Dorsey studies their faces. No blink. No smile.
MS. DORSEY
Did you ask my children to be left alone
when you started your fun?
Silence. Heat shimmers off the porch.
TIA
We said sorry.
Ms. Dorsey steps forward—small, but she fills the doorway.
MS. DORSEY
You dare disturb my children!
(holding, then soft)
You knock and run because you don’t have to
answer.
Out here… somebody answers.
The teens shrink. Then Ms. Dorsey’s shoulders drop; the anger
drains.
MS. DORSEY (quiet)
Go home. Think about the game you taught
them.
She closes the door. Locks click, soft.
MONTAGE – “THE SUMMER THEY STOPPED PLAYING”
— Marcus finishes a jog. His steps are chalked with three big
X’s. On a bench across the street,
MS. DORSEY and BEN share ice pops. They don’t look his way.
Marcus tucks his phone, uneasy.
— Tia opens her mailbox. Inside: a PHOTO OF HER PORCH from last
night. Perfectly framed.
Across the street, AVA sketches in a notebook, head down, not
hiding.
— Jamal shoots solo at a bent rim. The chain net dings. He misses
more than he makes.
From the alley’s end: MS. DORSEY—arms folded, not disapproving,
not amused.
Jamal gathers the ball, mutters, heads in.
— Lex tapes paper over his window. He sets the doll in a shoebox,
shuts it gently, places it in the closet like a memorial.
He sits on the floor and breathes—counting knocks that don’t
come.
END MONTAGE.
INT. MARCUS'S LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
Dim. Voices argue in the other room. Marcus paces.
A buzz: TEXT from TIA: “they’re outside again.”
A second ping: a grainy window shot—MS. DORSEY on the sidewalk
facing the street; BEN beside her. Not the house. The street.
Marcus types: “don’t go out.” Sends. He listens—
Nothing. The silence is louder than knocks.
EXT. TIA'S WINDOW – SAME NIGHT
Tia’s POV: Ms. Dorsey and Ben under the streetlight—still, facing
out, like sentries.
Tia frowns. Confused. Something shifts in her.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
5 -
A Moment of Community and Reflection
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD BLOCK – DAY
Trash day. A toppled bin. A frail man struggles.
BEN hustles over, tries, can’t. AVA rolls up, uses her footplate
to lever the bin upright.
The man smiles, thanks them. From across the street, Tia
watches—caught off guard.
INT. DORSEY HOME – LIVING ROOM – DAY
A small, clean space. A shelf of REPAIRED TOYS, some scarred, all
loved.
A burnt-edged WOODEN TOY BOX has been meticulously sanded and
varnished.
MS. DORSEY dusts. Her gaze lingers on the toy box. A private
grief flickers and is put away.
A polite KNOCK at the door.
Genres:
["Drama","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
6 -
A Lesson in Understanding
EXT. DORSEY HOME – CONTINUOUS
The teens on the steps. No camera. No laughs.
MARCUS
We… we were wrong.
TIA
We didn’t know you. We didn’t try.
JAMAL
We can fix your porch light… or something.
LEX
We’re sorry, ma’am.
Ms. Dorsey opens the screen half an inch. Studies them. Not
triumphant. Not cruel. Teacherly.
MS. DORSEY
You toy with what you don’t understand
because it makes you feel stronger.
(beat)
You understand now?
They nod, each in their own way.
MS. DORSEY (gentle)
Toy with them… and they shall come.
(then)
Stand beside them… and we’ll sit.
She opens the screen fully—not an invite in, but an invite to
HERE.
Ava rolls forward with a small tool kit.
AVA
Bulb’s loose. We can do it together.
Jamal exhales—grateful for a job.
Genres:
["Drama","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
7 -
Community Connections
EXT. DORSEY PORCH – LATE AFTERNOON
Hands work. Jamal steadies the ladder. Marcus replaces the bulb.
It glows steady.
Tia kneels beside Ava, flipping through the sketchbook—portraits
of the block, including the teens, drawn kindly.
TIA
These are… good.
AVA
You can keep that one—if you stop standing
across the street like a spy.
A small smile between them.
Lex sits on the step with Ben, stacking three neat columns of
pennies, then unstacking, then stacking again—
matching Ben’s rhythm, not leading it.
LEX
This how you calm down?
Ben nods.
LEX (soft)
Me too.
EXT. COMMUNITY PARK – SUNSET (LATER)
A modest BLOCK CLEANUP—trash bags, grabbers. The teens work
alongside the foster kids.
Ms. Dorsey chats with a neighbor she hasn’t spoken to in years.
Tia photographs everyone, then puts the phone away and joins the
work.
Marcus helps Ava navigate a cracked curb. Jamal shows Ben a
free-throw form.
Ben bricks. Everyone cheers anyway.
Genres:
["Drama","Coming-of-Age"]
Ratings
Scene
8 -
They Came
EXT. DORSEY HOME – EVENING
The porch is a shared picture now: Ms. Dorsey in her rocker; Ava
sketching; Ben tinkering with a toy car;
the four teens spread around—talking, not performing.
Across the street, two younger kids whisper, eyeing the house
like a dare. One winds up to run knock.
Marcus catches his eye, shakes his head—easy, protective.
The kid thinks, backs off. Crisis defused.
MARCUS
You ever tell us about the toy box?
A beat. Ms. Dorsey considers what to share—and what to keep.
MS. DORSEY (measured)
Once upon a time, someone didn’t answer
when the children needed them.
I answer now.
No one pushes for more.
Ava passes Tia a finished sketch: all of them on this porch.
The title on the bottom margin, in Ava’s careful hand: “They
Came.”
TIA (moved)
Can I hang this at home?
Ms. Dorsey nods.
MS. DORSEY (soft)
It’ll keep the knocks away.
Ben lines up three pennies on the railing. Lex adds a fourth,
then slides one back with a grin. Ben laughs.
Jamal flips the porch switch off, then on—testing. The bulb holds
steady.
Neighbors stroll by. A few nod. The block exhales.
Ms. Dorsey looks at her children. At these other children. At the
warm circle they made.
MS. DORSEY (to herself)
They came.
FADE OUT.