September 2nd, 2010 
admin I’m in charge of the Creative Writing discussion over on Collective Bias. I’m going to be presenting a weekly prompt for anyone to join in on. Fun! Without creative writing skills, blog posts can be boring…even the review blogs! So, what better way to become a better writer than to practice, practice, practice.
For our first prompt, I chose to have anyone interested write about someone who is pretending to be someone or something he or she is not. It can be a short story, a poem, essay form…whatever. And, that can be taken in many different ways. It will be fun to read the entries. If anyone else is interested in writing, leave your link in the comment section so we can check it out!
I’m doing a short story…of course.
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She lay in bed gently rubbing her belly. The baby responded by kicking back. She smiled into the darkness.
She was happy.
Life was exactly how she imagined it would be. Fancy cars, big diamonds, designer clothing, a handsome and doting husband. She knew she was envied and that pleased her. The geeky girl that cleaned up well.
Her husband was snoring softly. She couldn’t sleep, her mind was racing. She was running a list in her mind of all the things still needed to be purchased for the arrival of their baby. Their daughter.
Her thoughts turned to this evening and she sighed contentedly. Their three year anniversary. A delicious dinner at a 5-star restaurant with beautiful diamond watches exchanged followed by lovemaking that was as heated as it could be considering her due date was only three weeks away.
They were so in love. She thought that anyone who noticed them could see it, they emanated it. Their auras even intertwined. They were one.
She couldn’t believe her luck. He was the perfect man and he loved her. HER. The dorky, awkward, gangly girl who stuttered over her own words and tripped over her own feet.
High school was traumatic. College was worse. But then she got her first real job as a nurse in the hospital. She began to slowly come out of her shell and make friends. Friends who saw the potential in her looks and took her shopping and got her make up done.
She emerged from her chrysalis a smoking hot butterfly.
Soon, every single doctor…and not so single…pursued her. Asking her out or just trying to tap that.
She wore confidence like a mink stole. She was it and she knew it.
Then, a new doctor began working in the ER. He noticed her, just like every other doctor did.
This time, she paid attention.
Body fluids were exchanged before phone numbers.
Eventually, they began going to dinner, coffee, bowling…BEFORE ending up rolling around in the bed, on the floor, in the car. Conversations were intense. She had never had so much in common with another person, despite the fact that he listened more than he spoke. He kept a lot inside, and she was fine with that. She could talk enough for the both of them. But, they agreed on the important things and to her, that was what really mattered.
6 months later, they were engaged.
Someone wonderful loved her and wanted to marry her. She said yes. And they ran off to Vegas.
Now here they were. Married three wonderful, happy years. With many more to come.
Everyone liked her husband. Except her mother, who thought there was “something” about him. She didn’t want to hear about it from her mom, who had been divorced and remarried more times than she remembered. If there was “something” about anyone, it was her mom.
She still couldn’t sleep so she decided to check her email. Grabbing her laptop from next to her bed, she placed it on top of her tummy table.
Typical spam and chain emails were the bulk of what was waiting for her in her inbox. An unfamiliar email address from the hospital they worked at was there with IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ in the RE: line.
So, she did.
It said:
Dear Ellie,
Click on this link. (link) I think you will find this very interesting.
Oh, and happy anniversary.
Lila Steward
How sweet, she thought and she clicked on the link.
It took a minute for the scene on her screen to register. For her eyes to focus.
She watched in horror, the whole five minute film of her husband having sex with two women. She watched as one woman was giving her husband a blow job while the other one was gyrating on his face. On the desk in his office that they had picked out together.
She felt sick. The baby did a somersault in response.
She noticed other videos by the same account holder and she clicked on them.
They were all of her husband. Having sex with other women. The videos were all dated over the course of the past year. And she watched all of them. Feeling more nauseous the longer she watched.
Why the hell was she doing this to herself? Watching this train wreck.
No, she was obviously the train wreck.
She slammed the top down on the laptop and rolled over onto her side. Tears silently falling, her pillow growing wet.
She cried for how ignorant her husband must think she is.
She mourned the loss of the wonderful life she thought she had.
She sobbed because her mother really was right.
And then, she sat up. Determined. She opened her computer. And she erased the email.
She would continue living this life, this facade. She would never let her husband know what she had found out. She would continue letting him believe her ignorance.
For the sake of her unborn daughter.
For the sake of the geeky girl she once was.
