Seven

When he asked what her name was, she lied. Ella never was, isn’t and never will be her name. Still, he found no reason to suspect that she was lying to him. “Ella,” he breathed, when he touched her. Inwardly she recoiled, it wasn’t really her that he was holding.

Ella was a culmination of all the things she wanted to be. Careless, wild, free. Ella was the kind of girl that others couldn’t get enough of, someone who could fascinate you with a look. Ella might’ve worn her face, but it wasn’t her.

The lie grew deeper. Suddenly Ella wasn’t just a name that she had attached to her wishes for a more brazen personality. Now Ella had a past, a job, a family, a whole life. The life wasn’t hers though, but it was the one she had always wished for.

“Ella,” he whispered, pointing towards some other fascinating display as they walked through the streets. She turned her head and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window. She saw past the confident strut, she could see through the sunglasses and floaty sundress, she hadn’t really changed. She would never be this person that he thought she was. Perhaps one day she wouldn’t want to be. But for as long as she was around him, she wanted to enthrall him.

She knew that it wasn’t possible for them to continue this outside of Monaco. What happened in Monaco would always have to stay in Monaco. If there had ever been the possibility of their relationship being any more than a holiday fling, she had ruined it as soon as she gave herself someone else’s name.

This entry was written on May 21, 2007 by Charlotte Crown. It is about/includes mentions of lies, love, people. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.