Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Talk It Up. (assignment: dialogue)


Written entirely in dialogue. Done as a writing assignment, and an example of who to write dialogue. The basis of the story is a young girl visits her father in prison, where she tells him she is pregnant by a man her father hates. Her mother wants her to have an abortion; she does not seem so keen. Written to show how her father reacts and what the girl thinks to matters, hope you enjoy!

“Did you hear me Dad?” She timidly asked, not wanting to look up.
“I heard...” He just about managed to splutter, not willing to allow his anger to surface.
“I told you that I want to keep it...” She added defiantly, not even allowing what her mother wanted to have any baring on her life.
“He won’t stay.” He added, knowing all to well what his “sort” was like.
“Yes he will, he loves me!” She replied softly, not completely sure of the man she had been seeking comfort with.
“Ha! Don’t make me laugh...” He shouted, raising his voice so the other inmates and officers heard him.

“What does your Mother say?” He asked, knowing the answer already.
“She... she thinks...” No matter how hard she tried, she just could not bring herself to say the words.
“Get an abortion, go on; say it...” He answered for her matter-of-factly, staring ahead of him blankly; while all his daughter could do was nod numbly.
“She’s right too, you’re only a kid for fuck’s sake!” He added, finally allowing some of his anger to show; not realising what he had actually said.
“I’m 18 Dad... two years older than when Mum had me!” She spat back, not ready to be put down in such a way.

“You talk as if I have not thought this though...” She said more softly, sighing deeply as she stared out of the high windows with bars against them.
“You haven’t...” He threw back, knowing deep down he was wrong; they had brought her up better than that.
“Bollocks...” She shouted back, now it was her turn to make them all look; right on queue the room did as she wished.
“Mum was 12 when she lost her virginity, I was 18...” She began, just about holding her calm.

“She was 16 when she had me, and you were 10 when you first got sent down...” She continued, her voice rose a little more; the room almost silent.
“I am nothing like either of you!” She added, her fists clenched; her own temper just being kept in check.
“And I am still your father, even if I am in here!” He quietly answered back, finally seeing that she had more than a point.
“Yes, and you will be a Grandfather when you get out.” She said softly, wanting to show him what lay on the outside of these horrible four walls.

“And you’ll be a Mother...” He began, not sure whom he was reminding.
“And HE will be the Father...” He just could not help but add that, he wanted her to know he was still angry.
“He’ll take care of me Dad... of both of us!” She softly said, wanting to end this row; these days were too few as it was.
"He best an' all..." He replied, trying to smile; knowing that life would never be the same again.

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