Dialogue Story

I tried to write a story like this before. Usually I just use dialogue. I don’t reveal the character’s name but because this blog has no function to have coloured text, I’ll have to put in their names. Because I haven’t titled the story, I shall give a short synopsis.

Tomas Booker, an incorrigible alcoholic and a man of many enemies is murdered in bed. His wife is the prime suspect and this story reveals the complicated relationships that emerge from a murder and a new victim who is silenced. A hint to all who are reading, do not underestimate the yellow bag.

By: Eremiticgirl

Jenna: “Leave me alone! Stop reading over my shoulder.”

Tomas: “I’m not reading. I’m watching you.”

Jenna: “Well, stop it. And take your foul breath with you.”

Tomas: “Do you hate me?”

Jenna: “No.”

Tomas: “Then why do you want me to leave?”

Jenna: “I want you to leave your bottles and give me back my yellow bag.”

Tomas: “You know I can’t.”

Jenna: “Stop it. Just go.”

Tomas: “Hahaha. You are priceless my dear.”

Jenna: “I’m not your dear. What are you still doing here? Don’t you need to work?”

Tomas: “I’ve got a headache. I can’t work.”

Jenna: “Then what about the bills?”

Tomas: “What about the bills?”

Jenna: “There’s about ten that came in the mail today. And eight from yesterday. We haven’t a cent to pay them.”

Tomas: “Haven’t you been earning any money?”

Jenna: “The nerve you have.”

Tomas: “I have lots of nerve huh?”

Jenna: “It’s not supposed to be a good thing.”

Tomas: “Well I think it is.”

Jenna: “Go to work, you stupid alcoholic.”

Tomas: “Ah come on. I drank too much. I have a hangover. Let me rest dear.”

Jenna: “I shall kill you if you drink tonight and can’t work tomorrow.”

Tomas: “You keep saying that.”

Jenna: “I’ll do it this time.”

Tomas: “You won’t dare.”

Jenna: “Don’t touch me. Go to sleep since you have such a bad headache.”

Tomas: “I will. Don’t bite me.”


Officer: “May I have your identification number and name please?”

Jenna: “Jenna Booker, 23992834001.”

Officer: “I’ve heard from my investigating officers that the deceased is your husband?”

Jenna: “Yes.”

Officer: “And the neighbour has testified hearing you swear to kill him a week ago.”

Jenna: “Yes.”

Officer: “So I shall be blunt. Did you kill him?”

Jenna: “No.”

Officer: “No?”

Jenna: “No.”

Officer: “Would anyone else hold a grudge against him?”

Jenna: “Yes.”

Officer: “Care to tell me who?”

Jenna: “No.”

Officer: “We can investigate but we’d rather you tell us.”

Jenna: “My husband just died and now I have to suspect my friends?”

Officer: “Your friends?”

Jenna: “Everyone hated him. I hated him. The whole world hated him. Why don’t you make the telephone company, the water company, and the electricity company suspects too? Why don’t you arrest his employer and his colleagues and drag them all to interrogation? I’ll tell you this once and I won’t say it again, everyone hated Tom!”

Officer: “I understand. You may leave for now. We may need your statement later.”

Jenna: “My alibi you mean?”

Officer: “Yes.”

Jenna: “I can tell you now. I was sleeping.”

Officer: “Meaning you have no alibi.”

Jenna: “Yes.”

Officer: “Alright.”


Karen: “Jenna. Jenna. Jenna. Jenna!”

Jenna: “…”

Karen: “JENNA!”

Jenna: “Woah. Yes?”

Karen: “You’re working. Please pay attention.”

Jenna: “Sorry Karen.”

Karen: “Are you thinking about Tom?”

Jenna: “No.”

Karen: “He was so bad to you. Forget him. Find someone else. Like that man crossing the street.”

Jenna: “Stop kidding me. I’m a waitress. He’s probably a business man.”

Karen: “Like Tom?”

Jenna: “Probably nothing like Tom.”

Karen: “So?”

Jenna: “I’m working, Karen!”

Karen: “Ah uh. Okay. I’ll wait till your shift’s over.”

Jenna: “The police spoke to you?”

Karen: “Yeah. Because I have a motive to kill him.”

Jenna: “Everyone has.”

Karen: “I’m thinking, Jenna, that this case might take a long time. Why don’t you go on vacation?”

Jenna: “I’m the prime suspect. The police will not let me go. And I haven’t the money.”

Karen: “You mean they will lock you up till they can prove you’re not the murderer?”

Jenna: “No. But they won’t let me go traversing the world with a rich person like you?”

Karen: “Huh? You can’t be serious. They think you’ll kill someone else?”

Jenna: “How do you know I’m not the murderer, Karen?”

Karen: “Well, are you?”

Jenna: “No.”

Karen: “Then don’t say so much. I’ll get you a lawyer.”

Jenna: “It’s fine, Karen.”

Karen: “No it’s not. We’ve finally gotten rid of that flea and now we have to wait till we find the flea’s parasite? No way.”

Jenna: “I-I’m going back to work.”

Karen: “Then I’ll catch up with you later?”

Jenna: “See you.”

Karen: “Take care of yourself for goodness’ sake.”

Jenna: “Thank you.”


Jason: “Uh Jenna?”

Jenna: “Yes?”

Jason: “I know this is a bad time but since you really cannot pay for the room anymore, ah…”

Jenna: “I understand. When do you want me to move out?”

Jason: “Is tomorrow alright?”

Jenna: “Yes. I guess. Okay then. Thank you for tolerating us for so long, landlord?”

Jason: “It’s nothing. I wish I could let you have the room you know, because of Tom. But I’m not on the high road myself. I need the money.”

Jenna: “I understand.”

Jason: “Then I’ll collect the key from you tomorrow.”

Jenna: “Yes.”

Jason: “Good night.”


Jenna: “Why must I come back to the station, Officer Lempton?”

Officer: “You are still the prime suspect. And we have new evidence and managed to eliminate people from your long list of suspects.”

Jenna: “My suspects?”

Officer: “Yes. The electricity company was working late last night after the storm since midnight and all the men were accounted for. One of them was sleeping but his neighbour can testify because he has a little boy who slipped out of bed and crawled through the fence so he went over to retrieve the boy.”

Jenna: “Oh.”

Officer: “It was harder to account for the telephone company but most of them had an alibi for the time of the murder between 1 am to 5 am. And the water company is located more than five hundred miles from this town so that rules them out but just in case, we checked and everyone was accounted for.”

Jenna: “Why did you listen to me?”

Officer: “You had a point. Most people had heard of him and became related to him because of his antics. We’ve cleared many people and have rounded up to five suspects.”

Jenna: “Five?”

Officer: “Yes.”

Jenna: “That’s… fast.”

Officer: “Yes. As police, we try to be efficient.”

Jenna: “So who’s the five?”

Officer: “You, Karen Maclaury, your friend and daughter of the Maclaury Cooperation, Jason Tyler, landlord of the apartment block where you used to live, Gerald Hur, childhood friend of the deceased and Vicky Towlach, bartender of Yumach Bistro.”

Jenna: “Who’s Vicky?”

Officer: “Apparently your husband had an affair with her.”

Jenna: “You don’t suspect that I already know?”

Officer: “I suspect. If she wants to kill Tom, she might want to kill you too. So we’d like to extend a witness protection program to you.”

Jenna: “I’m not a witness. I’m a suspect.”

Officer: “Yes, so you are. But we can’t have you escaping justice by getting murdered can we?”

Jenna: “I guess not. And Officer, I advice you not to worry too much about me. I can take care of myself. I really don’t need your pity.”

Officer: “Oh, it’s not pity I’m doing all this for. I like a thorough job.”

Jenna: “Okay then.”

Officer: “By the way, I require your new address.”

Jenna: “Pardon me?”

Officer: “Your new residence. Jason Tyler kicked you from your old house yes? We need your address to contact you for further investigation.”

Jenna: “I’m living on Devis Street.”

Officer: “House number?”

Jenna: “None. You can probably find me in the alley beside the bakery.”

Officer: “This is not acceptable, Jenna.”

Jenna: “It’s Mrs. Booker to you.”

Officer: “I have a spare room in my house. I can let you live there. Don’t give me that look, Mrs. Booker, I am a married man with two children. My wife will be the one taking care of you.”

Jenna: “I must pay you for it.”

Officer: “I wonder if you suspect your friend.”

Jenna: “Pardon me, Officer. What?”

Officer: “You are in close relations with Karen. Why do you not live with her?”

Jenna: “She has done so much for me already.”

Officer: “How much do you earn a month?”

Jenna: “Don’t your records say?”

Officer: “It says unemployed.”

Jenna: “Ah. I’m a waitress. I make $100 a month.”

Officer: “Pay me $50 a month then. I’ll take care of your food as well.”

Jenna: “Fair enough.”

Officer: “Move in today.”

Jenna: “Thank you.”

Officer: “Back to business. We have ascertained his method of death and surveyed the crime scene for clues. There are no tricks involved. He was surely stabbed by a kitchen knife as the sun rises each day.”

Jenna: “That is obvious.”

Officer: “Yes. But the kitchen knife that we confirmed came from your kitchen has no fingerprints.”

Jenna: “I know what that means.”

Officer: “We could take you off the suspect list. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was brutally murdered and lying next to you in the same bed in a frightening pool of blood.”

Jenna: “I guess I have to tell you again that I am not the murderer.”

Officer: “Tell me something I don’t know. When Tomas Booker came home from drinking in the morning, what did he do until his death?”

Jenna: “He went to bed. Woke up at 2pm for lunch and to take a phone call from Gerald and then drank some more and fell asleep until he died.”

Officer: “Anyone came?”

Jenna: “No. And other than Gerald, no one else called.”

Officer: “You didn’t go to work that day?”

Jenna: “No. It was my off day. I was on anti-drinking duty.”

Officer: “Alright. You heard anything strange that night?”

Jenna: “No. I only realized he was dead when I woke up to go to work.”

Officer: “So how do you know it was 2pm when he woke up?”

Jenna: “I was watching a cooking show. It comes on at 2pm. You can check it. It’s called Cooking With The Pros.”

Officer: “My wife watches it too.”

Jenna: “Good to know.”

Officer: “Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Booker.”

Jenna: “Thank you for your investigations.”

Officer: “Just doing my job.”

Jenna: “That tagline is old.”

Officer: “I’m old too. Here’s my address. Move over now if you have no other appointments.”

Jenna: “Yes, sir.”


Jenna: “Come in.”

Vicky: “I’m looking for Jenna Booker.”

Jenna: “That’s me.”

Vicky: “I’m Vicky Towlach.”

Jenna: “Hello.”

Vicky: “You don’t look that oppressive.”

Jenna: “Pardon?”

Vicky: “Tom made it seem like you tortured him.”

Jenna: “If I did. He won’t have had an affair.”

Vicky: “You’ll be surprised how much freedom tortured people really have.”

Jenna: “You one of them?”

Vicky: “No. My husband. I’m the torturer.”

Jenna: “Pleased to meet you. Wish you tortured my husband.”

Vicky: “Wish I did too. Came here to thank you for killing him and to return his ‘present’.”

Jenna: “Sorry to disappoint. I didn’t kill him.”

Vicky: “That’s sad. Wish I got to do it. Heard it was brutal. Cut in many places before he died of blood loss. Wonder why he didn’t leave a dying message. Well, here’s his stinkin’ present for my time.”

Jenna: “He gave me the same cheap yellow bag.”

Vicky: “Sorry.”

Jenna: “Don’t be. I wish I never fell for him.”

Vicky: “Doubt it. It would be him who made the first move.”

Jenna: “Don’t know how you know that.”

Vicky: “I have a knack for it.”

Jenna: “I don’t want the yellow bag though. You should just throw it out.”

Vicky: “I would. Except that his blood is all over it.”

Jenna: “What?”

Vicky: “He wrote your name in it.”


Okay, so can anyone guess who’s the murderer yet? The rest of the story is on Figment as usual since I’m not finished with it. I know I haven’t continued the others but I will post this one since it’s pretty short. I hope you enjoyed this one and you’ll forgive me for not posting in a million years.


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