CWS Calendar - Day 12
Task: Write a scene for the story you plotted on August 10th.
Since my plot read so much like a theatre play anyway, I decided to write my scene as a drama scene, too. I hope that's okay.
[Rebecca steps into the room just as Tom leaves in a rush.]
Rebecca: Heather, darling! Do you have a moment?
Heather: If I have to...
Rebecca: It won't take long.
Heather: What is it then?
Rebecca: These two are quite interesting people aren't they? I can't say that I'm very fond of the other one, but this one -Tom?- delightfully energetic.
Heather: Yeah. So?
Rebecca: Of course, it would be very tragic if their presence were to somehow... interrupt the annual family barbecue, yes?
Heather: What are you talking about, Becky?
Rebecca: For one thing, don't call me that. For another... Well... I couldn't help overhearing your argument with Tommy right now.
Heather: [shrink back] What?
Rebecca: You really should be more careful. Having screaming matches in this house! I ask you! Haven't you learned anything from growing up here? Sound carries here, you know?
Heather: What do you want?
Rebecca: [smiling smugly] Easy, darling. I want my share.
Heather: Your what?
Rebecca: Don't try to fool me!
Heather: No, I really don't know what you mean!
Rebecca: I just told you that I heard, didn't I?
Heather: [swallows thickly]
Rebecca: I - want - my - share. Of the loot. The jewellery. From the theft at Goldstein's. Don't think I can add one and one.
Heather: I don't have any of that. If you really listened to Tom and me, you'd know that.
Rebecca: True. But Tommy and his friend have it, right?
Heather: [nods reluctantly]
Rebecca: Then, I suggest you find out where they're hiding their stolen goods. And once you've found out, you go and get it.
Heather: You are insane! There's no way I'd do that! Especially not to give it to you!
Rebecca: I'd think about that, if I was you.
Heather: Oh, yeah? Why's that? You can't make me do that!
Rebecca: Well, that's true. But I could mention your special relationship with young Ms Dominique to your parents. Purely accidental, of course. And what a shame it would be, considering Ms Dominique is such a wonderful young lady...
Heather: I hate you.
Rebecca: The feeling is mutual, darling.
[Heather stalks from the room, her hands in fists. Rebecca stays behind smirking to herself.]
The more I think about this, the more I can see myself actually writing the whole play. But maybe not in English...