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Exercise #184 : She Was Telling the Truth

She was telling the truth, but they didn't believe her. Write the scene using dialogue.

1,2,3, GO!

Erin: I'm telling you the truth!

Louis: Just stop it, ok? We know. There's no use in keeping this up.

Erin: (tears welling in her eyes) I'm not keeping anything up. I'm just trying to tell you --

Bridget: Great. Waterworks. Seriously? How dumb do you think we are?

Erin: No, that's not it. I need to tell you the truth, and I need you to believe me.

Bridget: Yeah, that'd be nice for once.

Louis: How about you start with the truth, and we'll see if we believe you.

Erin: But I have! I've told you everything!

Bridget: And you honestly think that we're going to believe your story? It's ridiculous.

Erin: Look, I know it's far-fetched. I know it seems unbelievable. But I'm telling you that it is 100% truth. No hyperbole, no lies.

Louis: Erin, I want to believe you. We want to believe you, but your track record... It's not so great.

Bridget: Forget that! I don't want to believe you. And I don't. So let's be done with this and go our separate ways, ok?


Well, hey there, circular argument that went nowhere. We didn't even find out what Erin was telling the truth about? Perhaps I'll revisit that one.

Oooh! Or perhaps one of you could write an ending! That would give me less work to do, and I'm all for that.

Along the same lines, I really am quite out of practice with this whole writing thing. I've been writing papers for school and so on, but research papers are another monster entirely in comparison to creative writing. I know an English teacher somewhere in the world just keeled over because I disassociated creative writing from research paper writing, but I'm not really in the mood to care about that right now.

At any rate, let me know what you guys came up with for this one.



Littlest Stephy said…
She was bent over the lifeless figure, red staining her hands and running down unto her distressed jeans. Her face, white, sunken, and full of fear as she stared at her completely glazed over. This is not how she wanted it to be, to end. How could she not see her! How stupid could she be!

What would he think?! What was he going to say? She already knew, already knew that he would see it as a jealous act ,not just an innocent accident. An accident... yes an accident is what it was!

“Why... why did this have to happen!” Her voice was frail and high as the chaos of the situation ran through her now chilled body. It rung high into the air around her echoing off the neighboring houses. His car pulled slowly into the driveway right next to the gruesome scene.

He opened the door, his face concerned.

“What happen...oh... OH MY GOD! Tiffany... Tiffany how could you!?” His face was full of shock, betrayal and pure anger. His hands reached down and pulled her beautiful body from Tiffany’s hands holding her close to him.

“I knew you never liked her! You always said that I had a soft spot for her that I thought about her more then I thought about you. I.. I just never knew...” He broke into tears as he stared down, stroking her gingered hair. “Why... why would you do this?”

Tiffany clasped her blood clad hands tightly together begging him to listen to her. To hear her story. To believe her. “Tommy, Tommy... I didn’t see her. I.. I didn’t mean it! You have to believe me! I know you loved her so much. I loved her too. I don’t know what happened. Please believe me baby... I love you too. I would never hurt you!”

Tommy’s eyes were red, searing and drilling holes right into hers. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to listen. Listening wasn’t going to bring her back. They were best friends who people thought could NEVER be separated and now she was gone. Gone forever.

“I think you should leave now Tiffany. Haven’t you done enough?!” He screamed at her violently his whole body shaking in sadness. “Miss Tuffets... oh god Miss Tuffets. You were the best gerbil a man could ever ask
Guy Duperreault said…
Welcome back, Stef.
Still too busy, I imagine. Here's a strange short dialogue:

Did you hear that?! She was telling the truth. She was telling the truth!


What do you mean, 'So'?

It doesn't matter.

How can you say that?


But that's being just mean!

No. It isn't.

Yes! it is!

No, it isn't!

But, but don't you understand? She'd still be alive today if anyone had believed her!

Cassandra didn't kill herself, and no one believed her.

So? What's that got to do with anything.

A great deal. Cassandra's punishment for knowing — or, more precisely, for knowing and telling the real truth was a lonely life amongst the lost and deluded.


To know the truth takes courage. To keep the truth quiet requires strength and endurance. To die for being disbelieved takes sloppy sentimental silliness.

But she died having been accused a liar! That's not fair.

Perhaps. But, so what.

What do you mean, 'So what'?!

I'm outta here. Bye.
Lou Barba said…
Hi Stef,

Great post, I hope to come back later and try my hand at this assignment. As far as the first comment is concerned, I HAD to laugh. And then I thought, I didn't know a gerbil contained that much blood! And then I had to laugh again.

Lou Barba
Sarah Allen said…
Great stuff! Just found your blog, and I'm really enjoying it. I think the concept is great. I'll have to use some of these excersizes.

Sarah Allen
(my creative writing blog)

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