Hey everyone!
So, I've been writing a chapter where two characters, Sandra and a ghost, interact with each other in which the ghost dramatically talks about a conversation between Sandra and her mother. I need grammatical advice on how to portray this on paper, more specifically a guide on how to represent the dialogue of the mother-daughter conversation within the dialogue of the ghost.
For clarity purposes, the situation is: Sandra is in a banquet and has to stop her father from conversing with someone.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
ˆAs I loitered outside the hall, my eyes began wandering aimlessly. That incident hadn’t just shaken me, it had gobbled up my thinking as well. I couldn’t come up with a single idea on how to stop my father.
Frustration filled me. I racked my brain for answers. Eventually, I decided to tell my mom that I wasn’t feeling well and that I needed to go home.
My eyebrows rose. Of course! My dress was ruined, I could always go home in this state!
The ghost scoffed. "For real? Can you imagine how badly that’ll go for you?"
I looked at her with a frown. "Bad?"
"Have some insight, Sandra." She placed a hand on my shoulder and looked at the hall seriously. "Steeling myself, I began to maneuver through the crowd and finally reached my mother. She was busy talking with some of the ladies. 'Mother,' I whispered, tugging at her sleeve awkwardly. 'Can I go back? I think I ate something and my stomach hurts--' "
"Wait, what are you doing?"
"Giving you a commentary about yourself," she said dismissively. "Now listen: Mother crinkled her brow. 'Does it hurt too much?’ she asked worriedly. I nodded, contorting my face in agony. Without much delay, my mother grabbed my hand and rushed out of the hall like it were an emergency. I looked over my shoulder. ‘Wait! Father is still talking!’
"‘Let him talk!’ she said, 'That’s what we’re here for.’
"‘But how will we get home?’ I asked dreadfully. And then I realized. Ah! It’s Nineteen seventy-seven. Mother knows how to drive."
I kept staring at the ghost, newfound anxiety beginning to fill me. Though ridiculous, her words did make sense.
" And with that, she dragged me away to our car. I looked over my shoulder desperately. Far across the room stood father conversing with that conglomerate. And next to him? That brat and his posse of madmen, grinning at me and wondering how I, Sandra Williams, was running away with her mommy—"
"NO!" I exclaimed in horror, "What should I do?!"
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Haha, I had so much fun writing this. Help is much appreciated!