Dawn: Portrait of a Teenage Runaway

Dawn's Mother:
[Showing up drunk at Dawn's prom] You're the one who's sneaking out behind my back, leaving your brothers alone!

Dawn Wetherby:
Why do I always have to baby sit?

Dawn's Mother:
Running around like a tramp!

Dawn Wetherby:
You're the tramp! [Mom slaps Dawn. They both fall to the ground]

Dawn's Mother:
[talking to Dawn at home, while Dawn is brushing her mom's hair] Honey, don't go looking for any prince. I did. And all I ended up with were jokers. You don't have a boyfriend yet, do you?

Dawn Wetherby:
I've got a crush on Willie Shakespeare. He's a poet.

Dawn's Mother:
Oh, Lord! Watch out for artists!

Frankie Lee:
[after chasing off a mugger who took money from Dawn] How much he get from you?

Dawn Wetherby:
Five Dollars.

Frankie Lee:
[tosses Dawn five dollars from the mugger's loot] This street gonna' eat you up, girl. Got a place to stay?

Dawn Wetherby:
Sure.

Frankie Lee:
[smiles] Just remember. Us girls don't ever have to go hungry. [winks and starts to leave] My name's Frankie Lee. You need help? Ask for me. Everybody knows Frankie Lee.

Dawn Wetherby:
[after Alexander offers Dawn a mint at the LA Free Clinic] Is my breath awful?

Alexander:
Probably.

Dawn Wetherby:
Oh, well, Gypsies never brush.

Alexander:
Gypsies don't have teeth.

Doctor Roberts:
[talking to Dawn and Alex at the LA Free Clinic, thinking both have VD] 400 of you kids every week. 3 part-time doctors. It's impossible. Okay, which one of you guys goes first? [Alexander unbuckles his pants to get a shot in the ass] 8 years of study. I have not one case of mastoids or thrombosis. All I get are 12 year-old pregnants and exotic forms of VD. [shoots Alex in the ass with needle, then turns to Dawn] And now for the culprit. Syphilis or Gonorrhea? [Dawn looks shocked]

Alexander:
She needs penicillin.

Doctor Roberts:
What she needs is a slap in the fanny. Listen. I don't want you two going near each other until you are cured, you understand?

Alexander:
[impatiently] Are you gonna' give her the shot or not?

Dawn Wetherby:
I have the flu! Just the flu!

Doctor Roberts:
[laughs] I don't know if I remember a cure for that.

Alexander:
Penicillin?

Alexander:
[during a deep philosophical discussion with Dawn in Alex's seedy Hollywood apartment] Sex and love aren't the same.

Dawn Wetherby:
Sure they are. They're both rip offs. [sudden outburst] It's all a rip off! I can't even get a lousy babysitting job! Everybody wants references!

Frankie Lee:
[Frankie Lee is talking to Gloria, another hooker in her pimp Swan's stable. Frankie is showing off a brand new Swan tattoo on her leg] My price is gonna' go up with this.

Gloria:
Swan not gonna' like it, Frankie.

Frankie Lee:
[indignantly] I'm doin' it for him!

Gloria:
Swan don't like his girls to look like they hookers.

Frankie Lee:
Hey! I look like a hooker 'cause that's what I am. I'm 17, girl, and this rose is fadin' fast! I gotta' jazz it up.

Harry:
[Harry picked up Dawn at a miniature golf course and is closing the deal in a cheap hotel room] We didn't discuss your price.

Dawn Wetherby:
[with false confidence] Oh, the usual.

Harry:
The usual? Now what's that?

Dawn Wetherby:
Ten-uh-Twenty dollars.

Harry:
[gets out money] Twenty dollars for twenty minutes?

Harry:
[Dawn smiles innocently as he hands her the money. She tucks it in her breast pocket] [Harry is Puzzled] How long you been at this?

Dawn Wetherby:
Not too long.

Harry:
[sighs] Nobody tell you not to stick the money in your pockets? The pros always hide the money from the customer, honey. In the shoe.

Dawn Wetherby:
Oh, I guess I forgot.

Harry:
[wearily] I guess. How old are you anyway?

Dawn Wetherby:
Fif-Eighteen.

Harry:
It's Crazy! Hollywood's crawling with hookers, and I wind up with an amateur.

Dawn Wetherby:
[desperate for work, Dawn seeks out Frankie Lee for career advice. She finds Frankie on Hollywood Blvd and asks her about her chosen profession] How long have you been a - [she can't say it]

Frankie Lee:
[laughs] Feels like forever. But I figured: Might as well sell it. Ain't worth singin' about. Hey. I left home like you. Thinkin' I was gonna' find something. Grits! That's what I found. [grimly] You got no choice. Believe me.

Dawn Wetherby:
I don't know if I could do what you do. I'm not - [struggling for the word] - experienced.

Frankie Lee:
[small laugh] Do you think they care?

Susie:
[Susie is a rich, spoiled teen hooker, who works for Frankie-Lee's pimp Swan. She explains her rich family to Dawn] My father is "Frank" of "Frank and Jensen Mattresses." He and I are in the same business of sorts. [laughs]

Swan:
[after Dawn decides to become a hooker and work for Swan, he talks to Dawn alone in his living room to lay down the law] Here's my phone number. You check in every 3 hours when you're out. If I don't hear from you, I'll check the Police Precincts. If you get caught, sit tight, keep your mouth shut. I'll have you out and free within 3 hours. [menacing] But don't ever hold out on me, baby. Hand it in. And I mean all your money. And don't ever think of puttin' a finger on me. 'Cause I'd just soon blow you away. You're ugly. I look at you and I see trash. You're dirty. That's why you're here.

Dawn Wetherby:
I'm not. I -

Swan:
Shhh. Don't argue with Swan. Don't ever argue with Swan. [he dumps out the contents of Dawn's purse. He finds five dollars and a note from Alex, which he reads out loud:] "Here's five dollars, Love - Uh, Alex?" [Dawn nods, while Swan takes the money] You're worth what you bring in. You a five dollar trick. That's nothin' to Swan, baby. Nothin'. Now, what are you?

Dawn Wetherby:
Nothing.

Swan:
Exactly. You're just a skinny ugly duckling that I'm going to turn into a beautiful swan.

Dawn Wetherby:
Please don't be mad at me. I can't go back empty handed. Swan would kill me!

Alexander:
Then don't go back!

Dawn Wetherby:
How?

Alexander:
There's got to be a way!

Dawn Wetherby:
There is no other way. This is it. [pause] [glumly] I don't care anymore. It was so meaningless. I felt nothing. I just stared at the ceiling and became a woman. What a hype!

Bookstore John:
[speaks with heavy sexual innuendo] Looking for something special?

Dawn Wetherby:
[angrily] A book! [turns away from the man]

Bookstore John:
[persistently] What kind of book, honey?

Dawn Wetherby:
[angrily] A very expensive book!

Bookstore John:
How much? [no answer] I said, "How much," honey!

Dawn Wetherby:
$200!

Bookstore John:
[laughs] I heard wrong. Didn't I hear wrong, honey?

Dawn Wetherby:
[screams as 2 other patrons look on] I said $200! Take it or leave it!

Bookstore John:
[embarrassed. To other patrons] I only asked her how much a book was.

[in holding cell]

Hooker:
Since when they let Whitey in? This place is goin' down hill fas'! [pause] [to Dawn] What's wrong? Cat got your tongue, honkey? [other hookers close in on Dawn] You kill somebody? You a doper?

Dawn Wetherby:
I stole a book! [Hookers all laugh]

Donald Umber:
She'll end up on drugs or pregnant. They'll pick her up and throw her in jail every couple o' months. She'll get older. Her price will go down. And by the time she's 18, she'll be dead or close to it.

Dawn Wetherby:
[sarcastically] I'm doin' just fine!

Donald Umber:
Well, don't forget the blusher, sweetheart. You're a little pale.