A story on a secret

May 15th – Mid way to the month of May and I’m glad to say that I’ve been writing a short story daily so far, and that Story A Day -May 2020 has been going well for me. I will post a separate post on the lessons learnt so far, but today, its a sample short story that I wrote for the prompt for the day. I hope you enjoy the story. Do let me know your thoughts , corrections, or even critiques on the story below 🙂

The prompt for today was to go to Postsecret.com, choose a secret and write a story around it. The secret postcard I chose was: “I have been on both sides of #metoo”. And here’s my story 🙂

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“You know you can go public or press charges against him right?” 

My best friend Sheila was absolutely outraged when I told her what happened last evening. But I wasn’t so sure. I thought back to the evening and the days that led to it.

I wasn’t an attractive woman or the woman guys usually fell for. But I knew the tricks by now. I was a walking talking ‘how to win a guy in four dates manual’, if I was honest with myself. I had had too many heartbreaks, too many Cindrella like expectations, before I figured it all out. It took the magic out of being in a relationship, but at least I knew I had the power to fuck anyone I fancied. I had tried and tested many guys over the years to prove my theory and to hone my honeytrap skills. This had been my purpose in life for the last three years, since the numerous times I’d had my heart broken and my spirit trampled upon. I had vowed to make men fall for me and never fall for any of them.

To me, it always seemed like, guys wanted sex, and so they should just be thankful that they got one without the hassle of emotional attachment. It seemed to me, the perfect win-win situation. The rat got the cheese in the end. It didn’t matter that the rat was in the lab the whole time. What was inconsiderate about that, when all that the rat wanted was the cheese, right? Its not like the rat had feelings, right? That’s what I thought.

Now, I was a leader. A go-getter. A CEO in my start up. Ruthless, sexy. Men couldn’t get enough of me. Men wanted me. I still wasn’t the stereotypical attractive woman. But my power, my position, and the rumours that I never got emotionally attached made me irresistible to men. And I knew why. I had years of experience practising on these rats.

Until Sam, that is. Funny, how there is an exception to every rule. An argument that you just can’t win.

“I cant’”, I replied quietly.

“But why? What is wrong with you? You’re one of the most powerful and ruthless women I know of!!”, Sheila paced around the room, showing her exasperation with me. I knew that pace. That tone of voice. She looked up to me. Aspired to be cold and calculated like me. And I was letting her down by not pressing charges. I almost cringed at the example I was setting.

“I wasn’t raped, Sheila. You know it was consensual.”

“But, but, you could always say it, isn’t it? I mean, you did tell him to stop right? When you realised you wanted more?”

Sheila was fishing for a salvation for her hero, where there was none.

I thought back to that evening and the many days that led up to that evening with Sam. The teasing, the competition, the cat and mouse game. The building up tension. I had played this game many times over the years. With so many rats, or mice, if they sound cuter. I didn’t care if I hurt anyone in the process. Because men are just interested in sex right? All they want is to fuck a woman. Why would they get hurt?

Only now, I realised, how wrong I had been. That after all these years, for a change, I had been the rat. The mouse. If it sounded cuter to you.

I fell in love with Sam. But this is not a love story. Sam had been one of the many rats I had experimented on and released into the wild. Never knowing, that I had broken his heart in the process. This was a story of revenge.

I looked at Sheila, my best friend, and the only thing I could come up with, that made the most sense, was, “I’ve been on both sides of #metoo.”

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