PESCADERO STATE HOSPITAL: In the interview room, we see a video screen, playing a previously-recorded session. Sarah is in a strait-jacket, talking softly.
VIDEO SARAH: ... it's... like a giant strobe light, burning right through my eyes... but somehow I can still see. Look, you know the dream's the same every night, why do I have to --
VIDEO SILBERMAN: Please continue...
The real Sarah dispassionately watches herself on the screen. Her expression is controlled. Silberman watches her watching. They are in a brightly-lit interview room. Two attendants stands nearby.
VIDEO SARAH: The children look like burnt paper... black, not moving. Then the blast wave hits them and they fly apart like leaves...
Video Sarah can't go on. Real Sarah watches herself cry on tape, her expression cold. We hear Silberman speak on the tape.
VIDEO SILBERMAN: Dreams about cataclysm, or the end of the world, are very common, Sarah...
Video Sarah cuts him off, her mood shifting to sudden rage.
VIDEO SARAH: It's not just a dream. It's real, you moron! I know the date, it happens!!
VIDEO SILBERMAN: I'm sure it feels very real to you --
VIDEO SARAH: On August 29th 1997 it's going to feel pretty fucking real to you, too! Anybody not wearing number two million sunblock in gonna have a real bad day, get it?
VIDEO SILBERMAN: Relax now, Sarah --
VIDEO SARAH: You think you're alive and safe, but you're already dead. Everybody, you, him... (she gestures are the attendant) everybody... you're all fucking dead!
Video Sarah is raving, half out of her chair. The orderly moves to inject her with something. The real Silberman watches intently Sarah's rage on video.
VIDEO SARAH: You're the one living in a dream, Silberman, not me! Because I know it happens. It happens!
Silberman pauses the tape... freezing Sarah's contorted face. Real Sarah turns away from the screen, her expression stony.
SARAH: I was afraid... and confused. I feel much better, now. Clearer.
Silberman gives a calculated paternal smile.
SILBERMAN: Yes. Your attitude have been very positive lately.
Sarah looks up at him. Her voice is hopeful.
SARAH: It has helped me a lot to have a goal, something to look forward to.
SILBERMAN: And what is that?
As she answers, we pull back, revealing that we have been looking through a one-way mirror from an adjacent observation room. In the shadows of the observation room we see that interns from the earlier rounds, and a couple of staff psychologists. They smoke and make the occasional note.
SARAH: You said I could be transferred to the minimum security wing and have visitors if I showed improvement in six months. Well, it's been six months, and I was looking forward to seeing my son.
SILBERMAN: I see. Let's go back to what you were saying about these terminator machines. Now you think they don't exist?
Sarah's voice sounds hollow.
SARAH: They don't exist. I see that now.
Silberman leans back, studying her. Toying with her.
SILBERMAN: But you've told me on many occasions about how you crushed one in a hydraulic press.
SARAH: If I had, there would have been some evidence. They would have found something at the factory.
SILBERMAN: I see. So you don't believe anymore that the company covered it up?
Sarah shakes her head no.