Lana's Rain

[first lines]

title cards:
During and following the Balkan Wars of the 1990's, various types of war criminals and low level mobsters escaped to countries in Western Europe fleeing either the authorities or their enemies. Some even found their way to America, hiding out on the back streets of large cities while taking on new identities. Many more innocent people came to America dreaming of a better life and a fresh start away from all the horrors they had witnessed.

title cards:
Out of this turmoil comes the story of Darco Lucev and his sister Lana...

Lana:
[first lines - narration] One would think if you traveled across the ocean to escape a land racked by war you couldn't smell the rotting flesh, or hear the cries of innocent people at the slaughter, but, you can. A black cloud hangs over me, running down and muddying the past of those whose lives I touch. Like my dear Katrina and my beloved China man. But sometimes I feel this cloud exists for another purpose. A purpose I have yet to understand. Or perhaps I'm just fooling myself as I have times before, when I was so desperate for hope that I believed it existed in places, that once was.

Darco Lucev:
Look, 20,000 America dollars. Enough to live comfortably in the States for 10 months. Maybe a year.

Julian:
Were you looking for something special?

Lana:
You.

Julian:
Me? Well, you're in luck. I just happen to be the last one in stock.

Lana:
[narration] Darco, although you deserve nothing for my labors, beneath my hatred there is still pity for the boy I once knew. So I decided to leave you enough money to get started. You'll find it in the can at the bottom of the septic. Although I won't be around to watch, just now I will be smiling. Lana.

Darco Lucev:
You know, when I left home the only thing I regretted leaving was you. A little baby. You remember me playing with you? Sing that song. [begins singing in Bosnian]

Lana:
[last lines - narration] And so I'm back where I started. The faces and places differ, but the storm over my head remains the same. Black clouds pouring down the Bosnian rain. How tempting it is to cleanse my body of the filth to end the pain. But for the sake of those I love, I can't.