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MidReal Story
The Secret Life of Maggie Wilkinson
Scenario:tired of her life beyonce decides to start a new life with some help she becomes suburban new england white christian conservative skinny women with white skin blonde hair blue eyes small butt and small breasts who loves fall and fall fashion and nobody knows how its happend and her kids disguise as white kids too with white kids clothes and hobbies but beyonce slowly starts to love it and choses a new name for her and her kids and moves to new england and lives happily as a new married christian white women married to a normal christan white man and a soccer mom who loves fall and fall fashion and never goes back to her old life and only she and her kids know (long story)
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Beyonce
She is a former pop star who secretly changed her life to escape her tumultuous past.
Bryce
He is Beyonce's husband and a devoted Christian who supports her transformation.
Jensen
He is Sadie's twin brother and Beyonce's son, who enjoys outdoor activities like soccer and skiing with his sister.
It was a typical hot summer day in late August when I decided I had had enough of my life, and it was time for a change.
I was tired of being a black woman, tired of being a famous pop star, tired of having my every move scrutinized and criticized.
Tired of having my children’s lives plastered all over the internet because they were my kids.
Tired of being a target for thieves and kidnappers.
Tired of being a constant disappointment to my strict Christian conservative family who hated everything about me and the life I had chosen.
I wanted to be a normal person with a normal life, just like everyone else.
I wanted to be able to go to the grocery store without being mobbed by fans.
To be able to take my kids to the park without someone snapping their picture and putting it on the internet.
To be able to have a husband who didn’t cheat on me.
To have a life free of drama and chaos.
And so, with the help of Skinny Tina, a neighbor and former acquaintance of mine, I made the drastic decision to change my life completely.
I know what you’re thinking… how in the hell did she do that?
But trust me when I tell you, it wasn’t easy.
But Skinny Tina knew a lot of people, and one of those people knew a lot of other people, including a few plastic surgeons, a talented hair stylist, and an expert in the field of disguise and deception.
I park my car three blocks away from the address Skinny Tina gave me, and pull my baseball cap low over my face.
The disguise expert’s office is in a run-down strip mall, and there’s no sign on the door.
Just a number.
I knock softly, and a thin man with wire-rimmed glasses opens the door.
"Dr. Marcus?"
I ask, and he nods.
"Come in," he says, stepping aside to let me enter.
I do, and he closes the door behind us.
His office is small and cluttered, with papers and books stacked haphazardly on shelves and in corners.
He motions for me to take a seat at his desk, and I do.
"So," he says, "you want a new life."
"Yes," I say, nodding.
"Okay," he says, pulling out a stack of photographs from a drawer in his desk.
"These are all suburban women in their mid-30s. They’re all white, because that’s what you asked for. Take a look at them and see if any of them stand out to you."
He spreads the photographs out on his desk, and I look through them.
They’re all of women doing everyday things: grocery shopping, attending PTA meetings, taking their kids to soccer practice.
They’re all wearing jeans or yoga pants and t-shirts or sweatshirts.
They all have long hair pulled back into ponytails or buns. "Pick one," Dr. Marcus says.
I point to a woman who is slender with long blonde hair and blue eyes.
She’s wearing a cream-colored sweater and boots, and she looks happy and relaxed as she walks through a fall festival with her family.
"Good choice," Dr. Marcus says, picking up the photograph and studying it.
"Now, let’s get started."
He pulls out a tape measure and begins measuring different parts of my face and body: the width of my nose, the distance between my eyes, the circumference of my waist.
As he works, he explains what will happen next.
"We’ll start by changing your appearance," he says.
"We’ll use prosthetics to alter the shape of your face and body. We’ll also change your hair color and style. And then we’ll work on your voice. We’ll use vocal training to change the sound of your voice, so that it doesn’t sound like yours anymore."
I nod, listening intently as he explains everything that will be done to me.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Dr. Marcus asks, pausing his measurements to look me in the eye.
"I have to be," I reply, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me.
"Once we start, there's no going back," he warns, his gaze unwavering.
I sit in the reclined medical chair as Dr. Marcus wheels over a tray of instruments and prosthetic pieces.
He starts by applying a thick cream to my face, explaining that it will numb my skin for the procedure.
The chemical smell fills my nostrils as he methodically covers every inch of my face, leaving no area untouched.
Through the small window, I watch leaves scatter across the empty parking lot, the distant hum of cars on the highway providing a constant background noise.
Dr. Marcus moves with precision, his hands steady and sure as he works.
After what feels like an eternity, he begins testing different skin-colored prosthetics against my face, muttering measurements to himself as he goes.
He holds up a mirror so I can see the first piece applied to my jawline.
My hands tremble as I grip the armrests tighter.
"Do you think this will really make me unrecognizable?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Dr. Marcus adjusts his glasses, peering at the reflection critically. "If done right, even your own mother wouldn't know you."
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words settle in.