hey this is my first story. I wrote it for creative writing. I may continue it i may not depending on time and if anyone likes it. Please vote/comment on it so i can get your honest opinion. Thanks =)
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"So the test results came back positive for syphilis." Dr. Morgan said.
I am completely astonished. Never in my whole life have I thought that I would contract an STD. I'm not that kind of person. I'm not dirty. I'm no whore.
"What can I do to get rid of this?" I say in one quick breath. While he tells me of the various treatments for this pestilence, I'm busy contemplating on who gave this to me. The only person I've been with, my husband. How could he do this to me? I trusted the scum, and what does he give me in return? A nasty little present just for me.
"Mrs. Larabee? Did you hear what I said?"
" Uh, yeah. I'm sorry. I'm just a little distracted."
"That's quite alright, Claire. This prescription for penicillin should fix you up right quick." He says. This doctor is a little to chipper for my liking. Here he is telling me I've contracted an STD, and he sounds like he's giving me the news that I'm pregnant. What a bunch of malarkey.
I quickly snatch the script and mumble thanks as I walk out of the exam room. This is just freaking great, I think to myself.
I mosey over to the checkout desk just waiting for the snooty nurse to quietly chuckles to herself over my misfortune. But to my surprise, she swiftly takes my script and insurance information and rings up my bill.
"Here you are Mrs. Larabee." She says handing me my papers. "Now we'll need to set up another appointment to check the status of the treatment." She instructs in a monotonous tone. I quickly assume she's seen these types of things all the time. I set the date for my next appointment, and promptly head out the door with fury not far behind.
As I step to the driver's side door, all I can think about is how Blake could do this to me. He is so adept at lying, but I never would have concocted a scenario like this. He has stepped way to far over the line this time. It's one thing that he's cheated on me before, but I thought he was over his boyhood shit. We've only been married one year. Is he already tired of being intimate with me?
As I get inside of my car, I turn the radio on. Maybe having something other than silence will help me figure out what I'm going to do. I put the key in the ignition and start the car with ease. Why couldn't marriage or any relationship at be as smooth as starting a car? I pull out of the parking lot, heading home. Home. What an ironic notion. A home is a place of unity, family, trust. I have none of those. I have to get a grip. Find a way to get through this. The only way is revenge.
While contemplating ways to get back at my loving husband, I arrive at home to find he has not come home yet. I say a quick prayer to the gods, thanking them for this small gift. At least I can walk in my house and find some peace in the solitude. Languidly I head to our bedroom to change into something more comfortable. I need to think and comfort helps me do so.
Just as I walk out to the living room, I hear the ominous garage door bumbling up. Hearing the soft click of the car door immediately makes my heart surge into hysterics. What am I supposed to do? I can't just blurt out, "Hey I've got syphilis! Who you been messing around with?" I need to be tactful. I think I'll evade the subject for a while. Passive aggressiveness always seems to work.
As Blake walks in from the garage I grunt a hello and sit down on our sectional couch, turning the TV on. I channel surf for a few minutes before Blake sits down next to me. He tries to edge closer to me. I sense his hesitation, but I do nothing to ease his apprehension. I stare at the TV trying to look interested. It's much harder then it looks. Still trying to scoot closer to me, he wraps his arms around me. I shrug him off feeling sickened by him trying to be intimate with me, while screwing around with someone else. I finally go to the kitchen to get away from him. I can't stand the thought of him touching me. After all who knows what kind of other diseases I could contract.
