John Proctor is a Slut

The morning light filtered through the upstairs window, illuminating the room and casting long shadows along the floor. Elizabeth Proctor sat in her bed, as she had so commonly done, since she had her third child. The cry of her infant son, caused her to rise and collect the child, in order to nurse him. She stood there, her babe in her arms, feeding, when a gaze out the window, caused her to notice something seemingly odd.
Out in the garden, not twenty feet from the house, stood John Proctor, her husband, entangled in a kiss with another woman, not more a girl, as she appeared to be young. At first Elizabeth could not identify the girl, but when she moved away from her husband, she saw the face of Abigail Williams, their maid. She stood there in shock, in shock at seeing her husband with any other woman, especially one who herself was still a child. She felt betrayed that her husband would choose to love another, other than herself, as she was a Christian woman, who did not think it fit for any man to break a Commandment, but she was not surprised, for any man, she thought, that was not receiving due attention from his wife, would seek the companionship of the closest woman. However that did not mean that it didn't hurt. And that ache was only increased by every lust-filled remark that escaped the lips of those in the garden, as she heard every word that followed.

That day, had been one of the hardest of Elizabeth's life, and by the night she was exhausted, both emotionally and physically, but her rage kept her awake. She had felt sick all day, from being ill and being in such close proximity to Abigail, to whom she had not mentioned a thing of what she had seen that morning. As much as she wished to sleep, she had stayed awake to wait for John to return from his day's work, and so entertained herself by making his supper. It was getting late, and all the light in the kitchen was from the fire, and the candles she had lit.

The door slammed as a male figure walked into the kitchen. "Elizabeth, still you wake?" John said in surprise, as he he noticed the woman scrambling to stand.
"Aye, I was preparing your supper." She said, as she placed a warm bowl of broth on the table. He sat at the table to eat. Elizabeth stood in the room, with her back to him, gazing at the stars outside the window, as she contemplated the way to best arise the issue.
The chair screeched on the floor, as John leaned forward to help himself to a slice of the bread at the center of the table. "Did Abigail make this?" He said, lifting the bread in the air as he asked.
"Aye." she said, annoyed that he had barely been in their home a few minutes, before mentioning her. "What's she to you?" Elizabeth asked, turning around to face him, one arm across her body, whilst the other used that arm to lean on, as she nervously scratched at her jaw.
"What is who to me?"
"Abigail."
"Nothing, but anyone to help you." He said, as he shoveled food into his mouth.
"Then what of your actions in the garden?" At that question he near to choked on his meal, but his response came calmly, as would any of a good liar. "I know not what to you refer."
"I saw you with Abigail." His face shows his disbelief at being caught, for he thought his secrets were well guarded. "Have you layed with her?" Her face and voice empty of emotion.
"Nay, Elizabeth. it is she who has feelings."
"Do not lie to me, John." she said, as she moved towards him. "I saw how you looked at her, and heard the things you said. Have you layed with her?"
"Nay, we have not." His voice rises in anger, but he is betrayed by his own guilt his eyes reflect.
"You should not fear my own judgement, but that which you will face at the hands of God, for breaking his Commandments and your unwillingness to admit so. You lie in many a way" Her voice, stayed soft and low, but full of venom, and she turned on her heels, and went upstairs, and left John to eat in his shame and denial.

She swung open the door to the small room, in which Abigail Williams slept, startling the girl, who was near to asleep. "Goody Proctor, am I needed?" She mumbled, as she struggled to regain her wakenness, and get up from where she lay. "Nay, not now, not ever. Gather your things and leave. Do not return." Elizabeth's voice was a firm as she gave the order.
"Please Goody Proctor," Abigail begged, her voice rising in pitch, "I need my work in your home."
"Your services are not needed and poorly." She looked down at the child without an ounce of the pity, she seemed to have expected to garner.
"How can you be so calm when you ruin the lives of others?" She glared at Elizabeth, and gathered the small amount of items she owned. "Pack hurriedly, and be on your way."

Elizabeth walked back downstairs, where John waited at the bottom. In barely a whisper he apologised.
"I do not care for your words but your actions." She said firmly as she made her way to open the door for Abigail, who was stomping her way down the stairs. "Please Goody Proctor, do not throw me out." She said in a final attempt to keep her job.
"My wife has said out." John yelled at her. He moved to push her through the doorway, but in her fear though she had fallen though herself. "Do not return, Abigail." He shut the door on her, and turned to face his wife. "Words not actions, John. You mask your actions in words."

A/N: The purpose of this creative piece was to explore how the affair between John Proctor and Abigail Williams was brought to an end once Elizabeth Proctor had found them out; this was chosen as it is a fairly significant element to the characterisation of all these characters and directly links to their actions in the play, and is heavily referenced throughout. The piece is written for a young adult audience, preferably those who have read or seen an interpretation of The Crucible, and who enjoy a good dramatic piece with romantic tension. It was written in the form of a short story, as it is essentially a snippet in the lives of these characters, and it has a distinct complication and climax. It was written in third person to capture the movements of all the characters, the ways their voices change and there expressions, and when needed, their inner thoughts. The old fashioned speech patterns of the time were adopted to keep the characters accurate to their canon counterparts. A more sophisticated and old fashioned narration was used to connect dialogue and descriptions. Between the original draft and the final versions, there were minor factual mistakes corrected, corrections to spelling mistakes, and omissions to sentence fragments and excessive and inaccurately placed commas.