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In this challenge, I want you to write a scene, long or short, happy or sad, funny or serious, that somewhere contains this line of dialogue: "Mommy, why did Daddy go to jail today?" Be as creative or as literal as you like. The only requirement is that line of dialogue must be spoken somewhere in the scene.
I'm working on my entry and will post it when finished.
Refer to the What's Going On? thread for more challenges.
Something short and completely random. I hope it's ok.^^
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“Mommy, why did Daddy go to jail today?”
She stopped what her hands were delicately chopping and turned to face the littlest member of the Dent family. The young girl mistook her look of confusion as a sign that she didn’t understand the question.
“Mommy,” she repeated, adding in that little whine that all young girls under the age of five seem to come equipped with. “Why did Daddy go to jail today?”
“Now, now Allison,” the matriarch of the family said as she bent down and scooped her daughter up into her arms. “Who told you that? Daddy went to work today, like he always does every Tuesday.
“Eh?” her little face wrinkled in confusion. “But – but, I saw it. I saw it on the telly.”
“It could have been anyone you know,” her mother said as she put away with her free hand the knife she was using. “Your dad has sort of a rather common face, sadly.”
“I don’t know…” she said doubtfully. “They said his name. Arthur Dent, that’s what the lady said on the news.”
“When was this again?” her mother said, still unbelieving.
“Just right now.”
She widened her eyes and ran hurriedly to the living room with her child in her arms. As she entered, the voice of the reporter filtered into her ears.
“… Dent. I repeat, Arthur Dent has been apprehended today under the suspicion of murdering a co-worker, Germaine McMillan, who disappeared two weeks ago. We are live in front of Arcon Corp. and are waiting for the police to – “
Oh God, it’s really him. In her fear, she unconsciously tightened her grip around her daughter’s wrists.
“OW! Mom!”
“S – sorry dear,” she said, now visibly shaking. “Hey, why don’t you go up to your room and prepare your tea table? I’ll play with you later ok?”
“Hooray!” she cried out in delight as she wriggled out of her mother’s arms and ran energetically up the stairs.
“We are seeing movement now. An officer is coming out of the doors and following him is, there he is, Arthur Dent, suspected murderer of Germaine McMillan.”
How could this happen? She asked herself in shock. Surely they’ve got the wrong person. Surely.
“They will be taking him to a cell where they will hold him – Hang on, he’s free! The suspect has one of the officers in a chokehold and – Go on, someone help them! Wait, he’s released the officer. He’s backing away. He’s running; he’s going to get away! OH! He has a gun! He’s fired it into the officer’s face! Oh my God, he’s killed him. An officer is down. An officer is down! He’s aiming for the other police officer, he’s going to kill him! No, he didn’t! Arthur Dent is dead! He’s been shot down! He’s down. I repeat, Arthur Dent is down. He’s been shot down. He’s dead, Oh my God, he’s dead. Did you get all of that Martha?”
No. This isn’t happening. This didn’t happen. This. Didn’t. HAPPEN.
“Mommy, why did Daddy go to jail today?”
“Mommy, why did Daddy go to jail today?”
“Mommy, why did Daddy go to jail today?”
“Mommy, why did Daddy – “
“I’m afraid that’s all she’s been saying ever since they brought her in Professor. We’ve been treating her for two months now nothing seems to have any effect on her.”
A wizened man in a white lab coat shook his head uttered a sigh. With a reluctant movement, he slowly closed the view hole into cell #AD465.