[Submitted by deadness_master on June 10, 2007, 11:05 pm]
I want to try something. I going to try to write a dialogue. Try to feel the emotions in the words that they use.
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"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Stop. Stop. Stop! You can't do this. You can't just leave everything to me."
"I can't take this anymore. I just didn't know it would be so... bad."
"What do you mean by this? This is our life. You knew what you were walking into when you took those vows. Do they mean nothing to you now?"
"I don't know. I can't handle this life anymore. I feel like I'm dying in here, John. I need to get away from here."
"What about the kids? Do they mean nothing to you as well?"
"Don't do this to me, John. Its... just going to be for a while, 'till I get my head right."
"So what am I going to tell the kids? That their mother walked out on them to go for a joy ride? That she did it because she couldn't cope?"
"Tell them what you like, John. I promise that I'll be better when I get back."
"Well, we won't be here when you get back."
"I love you."
____________________________
Well, its still slightly hazy right now, right? This is what happens when I fill in the details.
____________________________
The sound of scurried footsteps upstairs drew John's attention. Climbing up and finally entering their bedroom, he stops, mouth agape at the sight of his wife, Helen furiously flinging clothes into an open suitcase.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Helen tears a shirt off the hanger and throws it into the suitcase, and rushes back to the closet to rip another hanger off the bar.
"Stop." She ignores him. "Stop." The second warning goes unheard yet again, so John steps forward and grips his wife by the shoulders and shakes her. "Stop! You can't do this. You can't just leave everything to me." He looks searchingly into his wife's red and weary eyes. Helen glares at her husband; her eyes a mixture of pain and indignity, then prying herself from his arms she stands a distance from him.
"I can't take this anymore." The statement dropping anchor in the room as if it were the final answer she would ever give. "I just didn't know it would be so... bad."
"What do you mean by this? This is our life. You knew what you were walking into when you took those vows. Do they mean nothing to you now?" John had never been angrier in his life. How dare she? How dare she walk away as if they didn't matter, as if their family didn't matter.
"I don't know. I can't handle this life anymore. I feel like I'm dying in here, John. I need to get away from here." Helen slams the suitcase shut, and hauls it towards the door. John blocks the doorway, she shoves him aside with the weight of the suitcase, barreling into him like a battering ram.
"What about the kids? Do they mean nothing to you as well?" John shouts after her, recovering his balance and chasing her fleeting figure down the stairs.
"Don't do this to me, John. Its... just going to be for a while, 'till I get my head right." She doesn't bother facing him, making for the front door, she's exhausted and the finishing line is just in sight.
"So what am I going to tell the kids? That their mother walked out on them to go for a joy ride? That she did it because she couldn't cope?" John spat.
Helen stops short in hallway and opens the front door, "Tell them what you like, John." She's too tired to argue, she had planned this for too long. " I promise that I'll get better when I get back." She turns around to face him.
John stares coldly back at her. "Well, we won't be here when you get back."
The moment is frozen. The couple is faced with an inexplicable crossroad decision. The ultimatum hangs in the air, shrouding their faces in the soured expressions of love. Helen is halfway out the door, the sunlight drawing across the sad smile that played upon her lips, at the sight of her stoic cold husband standing in the shadow of their living room hallway.
"I love you."
The door closes behind her.
___________________________
Was it good? I think I still need more practice with dialogue. If you find any chinks in the prose, when it doesn't flow in places where it doesn't feel right or as nice. Do drop me a comment so I can amend it.
___
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Stop. Stop. Stop! You can't do this. You can't just leave everything to me."
"I can't take this anymore. I just didn't know it would be so... bad."
"What do you mean by this? This is our life. You knew what you were walking into when you took those vows. Do they mean nothing to you now?"
"I don't know. I can't handle this life anymore. I feel like I'm dying in here, John. I need to get away from here."
"What about the kids? Do they mean nothing to you as well?"
"Don't do this to me, John. Its... just going to be for a while, 'till I get my head right."
"So what am I going to tell the kids? That their mother walked out on them to go for a joy ride? That she did it because she couldn't cope?"
"Tell them what you like, John. I promise that I'll be better when I get back."
"Well, we won't be here when you get back."
"I love you."
____________________________
Well, its still slightly hazy right now, right? This is what happens when I fill in the details.
____________________________
The sound of scurried footsteps upstairs drew John's attention. Climbing up and finally entering their bedroom, he stops, mouth agape at the sight of his wife, Helen furiously flinging clothes into an open suitcase.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Helen tears a shirt off the hanger and throws it into the suitcase, and rushes back to the closet to rip another hanger off the bar.
"Stop." She ignores him. "Stop." The second warning goes unheard yet again, so John steps forward and grips his wife by the shoulders and shakes her. "Stop! You can't do this. You can't just leave everything to me." He looks searchingly into his wife's red and weary eyes. Helen glares at her husband; her eyes a mixture of pain and indignity, then prying herself from his arms she stands a distance from him.
"I can't take this anymore." The statement dropping anchor in the room as if it were the final answer she would ever give. "I just didn't know it would be so... bad."
"What do you mean by this? This is our life. You knew what you were walking into when you took those vows. Do they mean nothing to you now?" John had never been angrier in his life. How dare she? How dare she walk away as if they didn't matter, as if their family didn't matter.
"I don't know. I can't handle this life anymore. I feel like I'm dying in here, John. I need to get away from here." Helen slams the suitcase shut, and hauls it towards the door. John blocks the doorway, she shoves him aside with the weight of the suitcase, barreling into him like a battering ram.
"What about the kids? Do they mean nothing to you as well?" John shouts after her, recovering his balance and chasing her fleeting figure down the stairs.
"Don't do this to me, John. Its... just going to be for a while, 'till I get my head right." She doesn't bother facing him, making for the front door, she's exhausted and the finishing line is just in sight.
"So what am I going to tell the kids? That their mother walked out on them to go for a joy ride? That she did it because she couldn't cope?" John spat.
Helen stops short in hallway and opens the front door, "Tell them what you like, John." She's too tired to argue, she had planned this for too long. " I promise that I'll get better when I get back." She turns around to face him.
John stares coldly back at her. "Well, we won't be here when you get back."
The moment is frozen. The couple is faced with an inexplicable crossroad decision. The ultimatum hangs in the air, shrouding their faces in the soured expressions of love. Helen is halfway out the door, the sunlight drawing across the sad smile that played upon her lips, at the sight of her stoic cold husband standing in the shadow of their living room hallway.
"I love you."
The door closes behind her.
___________________________
Was it good? I think I still need more practice with dialogue. If you find any chinks in the prose, when it doesn't flow in places where it doesn't feel right or as nice. Do drop me a comment so I can amend it.