by Ruth Speirs

Created on: November 04, 2008

HEY, THAT'S MY ZOMBIE!

The sickening aching hollow deep within where her heart used to be just wouldn't subside. What was happening before her very eyes couldn't really be construed as 'cheating', right? The zombied actor with all his gory, slimed up, bloodied groans and the screaming pleas from his naked female victim was almost more than Angela could bear. After all these years of being together, this was the first time she had ever actually witnessed this lustful animal within attacking someone, someone else, someone other than her. "I know, I know." Angela whispered under her breath, "This is only a job with a paycheck." Yet, keeping the jealous and hurt part of her in check...to remember it was only a movie...there is absolutely nothing more to it than that...took all of her mental, physical and emotional self control.

Out of the darkness, the director finally yells, "CUT!"

With a sigh of relief, Angela's humiliating ordeal is over. Craig, her husband, steps from the bowels of the set covered in green, oozing slime and stained with factory, movie set blood looking like the gory villain she'd imagined from the blood curdling screams only to be followed by the topless female lead for this scene. "Why doesn't she put on a towel or something?" The thought continuously races through her mind like some poor hamster on an exercise wheel that won't stop. "Just hold it together. It's almost over." But to her horror, Angela's never ending pleas from within gurgle to the top. Her inner voice screaming, "Hey, that's my zombie!" She choked back the vomit in her own throat, gritting her teeth as Craig stands, not with her but with this topless woman covered with what was supposed to be her own blood from the throws of an agonizing, cruel and horrific death.

One by one, Craig's cast mates walk past and pat Angela on the back for his "amazing efforts" and tell her what a "wonderful guy" he is. She looks up to see a grotesque zombie covered in blood approaching her. Fighting back a killer instinct of her own was key to the success of this scene. The instinct to run completely out of the place bawling uncontrollably was a battle she was determined to win. Her mind searched for the right words to say to this hateful brute that would dare touch another in her presence and emerge for a compliment as validation for his great work. "How could he?" She thought.

With every step toward her, the bile rose as she realized that they were now the "show". Her reaction could be a deal breaker for any future engagements. But her anguished fears and bitter resentment melt away when she sees, not the grotesque cheating brute she imagined, but the boyish grin of the man she fell in love with. Still, an exit would be perfect at this point and faining an absolute need for relief, which was not entirely deceptive, she retreated to the only safe, distant place a horror movie could have....the women's restroom......

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