Former Girlfriend Turns into Night Terror

I was visiting Mom and Dad when the neighbors came up and invited us
all over for a barbecue. As we were headed over there TSK called and
asked if she could talk with me. I asked Nan if that would be OK, I
hadn't seen her in almost 30 years.
I drove over to pick up TSK at her old house. I thought that was a
little bit odd, as her mother and sister had moved out of Poway
shortly after I had last seen TSK.
As I drove through the old neighborhood, a large black dog ran right
in front of the car. I was prepared for that, though. That had
happened to me enough times while TSK and I had been dating, that it
had become a running joke with us. The dog was not healthy looking.
It's longest three ribs were visible through its flesh, the white bone
glistening against the black dull matted fur. One eye was grey and
sunken looking. He fixed his gaze on me, shook all over, and continued
on his way.
TSK was waiting at he end of the driveway of her former home. She had
a small bag with her, but no sign of a car or other transport. The
driveway and the street were both empty. TSK was looking a little
heavier, but 30 years can add a couple of pounds to a person's frame,
or 50 if you look at me. She was still pretty good looking in that
slender round bottomed way that drives me to distraction. Her lips
were a little thinner, like she didn't smile enough, and her eyes,
while still that delightful sparkling brown, were somewhat sadder than
I remember. She seemed a little disoriented, she'd been expecting me
to pick her up in the satellite. I told her we had sold it only
recently, and it had been difficult (for me) to let go. I held open
the door for her and she got in. I asked how her family were doing.
Her response seemed a bit random. Mostly OK, but she was going to see
her mother and R.
We drove back to my folk's house.The conversation was mostly catching
up, but every so often TSK didn't make a whole lot of sense. I asked
her if her kids made their own parades like she used to do. That made
her smile, but she didn't actually answer.
There's a hot tub? she asked.
"Yes, but I don't know if they've got it up and running. They had
plants in it the last time I was there."
"Oh, OK." I got out of the car and went around to open the door for
her. In the time I had made my way around the back of the car, she had
changed into a bathing suit and sarong. I could see her C-Section scar
just peeking over the sarong as she adjusted it to cover. She was
still very small breasted, but her nipples were larger. (I'm such a
boy, what can I say.)
We went down to the neighbors and I introduced her around. The
neighbor's dogs sniffed at her and then went and laid down under the
lawn furniture. N looked at her then at me, concerned and worried. I
thought she would be jealous, but she wasn't at all. TSK was looking
very hot in her sarong and halter over the bathing suit.
Still, N was the picture of civility, offered her a drink, which TSK
politely declined.
Mom and Dad were nice and they chatted about my Sister and her
friends, who was still around, who was moved far away. (My sister
amongst the latter.) During the conversation things went weird when
TSK began to insist that "Wichita is in Minnesota or Wisconsin, but
certainly not Kansas." over and over again. We would be able to bring
the conversation around to other topics for a few sentences, but then
TSK would blurt that out again. TSK stepped out onto the patio to
check out the hot tub.
TSK excused herself for a bit when she discovered the Hot Tub was out
of commission. After we started eating and TSK hadn't returned, N went
to look for her. N showed up a moment later, pale, told me I'd better
go talk to her.
I went into the bedroom. She was looking bruised about the face and
shoulders. N poked her head in, I looked at her, "Not me" she
whispered. I offered to take her home or where she was staying. She
asked if she could visit our home, meet the cats, she'd not had a cat
since before she went to college. N and I exchanged looks.
"I have my car, I'll be fine."
N didn't look fine. I gave TSK my sweater and helped her out to the car.
The trip was quiet, especially for TSK. When she started talking about
her two children, she brightened up a bit, the bruises even seemed to
vanish. "We came up here to see Ragtime, I never did see that."
"Neither did I" I admitted. She had fallen asleep while we were
waiting in line to get in to the 9:30 showing. I'd taken her home, her
mom and I had tucked her in bed and talked for a couple of hours
afterwards. TSK had accused me of liking her mom better. In
retrospect, we probably would have been a better match.
While talking about the past, all of her bruises and tiredness vanished.
We arrived, TR, a mostly black cat, shot across the street in front of
the car. I'd been prepared (like earlier.) But TSK screamed in alarm.
"He always does stuff like that," I explained. TR dropped and rolled
for us. I introduced her to the cats that would come around. TR stayed
close to us. CL was very kind to her, mostly for the curiosity factor,
and she seemed particularly taken by PTL, who loved the attention.
We ended up sitting in bed. TSK's sarong fell open revealing a long
waxy looking
wound with dried flesh curled up from the edge of the 6 inch gash.
There was no blood, and the would seemed to be open. She covered it up
and tried to continue our conversation.
I asked what happened. She started in on the Kansas thing again. I
interrupted her, gently as I could. N walked by, blanched and hurried
out. TSK started trying to coax the cats back, but they were wary,
even a little frightened.
"Can you kiss me?" TSK asked.
"Of course," I leaned in and kissed her. It was not like I remembered
it, but still very nice. When I pulled back I could see the sadness in
her eyes had returned.
N came back into the room and left two tubes at the foot of the bed.
Anti-biotic ointment and KY Jelly. "I'll just be in my office,
writing." She hurried out again, not with a jealous look, just very
concerned, and frightened. I took a nail trimmer and gently trimmed
the dried flesh and applied some ointment. The pleasant smell of her
arousal startled me, aroused me at the same time.
TSK said "Thank you," started to say "we never made", then stopped
suddenly. She sobbed.
I put my arm around her. Her appearance continued to deteriorate. I
realized, in mounting fear, that her wounds were deeper than I thought
at first. There was still no blood. A long plug of what I can only
describe as mortician's wax fell from the wound in her leg and I
noticed similar plugs along her shoulders and neck. My arousal was
replaced by a queasy fluttering in my stomach.
"You never tried to change me." TSK whispered.
"I never wanted to." I held her closer, despite my growing unease.
"Turns out no one could anyway."
I realized I was holding on to a corpse, animated by some great need,
and drawn to me. "I will always be fond of you," was the only thing I
could think to say. Her flesh began to become soft under my grasp. Her
youthful delightful smell changed in a flood to something more
antiseptic, but hiding a deep un-wholesome undertone.
"Could you have loved me for real?" Her voice was much stronger than I
would have thought, hand shaped bruises I could see spreading across
her throat, darkening, clotting, turning black.
"Oh, yes," I realized I meant it, "I'm not sure I've ever stopped
loving anyone. We just weren't a real match."
"Sucks to be me."
She started to melt out of my arms. The cats who'd stuck it out this
long bolted from the bed. The unpleasant undertone overtook the
antiseptic and washed over my sadness. I was quaking as I tried to
hold her together, and not get her on me at the same time. I wanted to
bolt myself, but couldn't abandon her as long as her now random
babbling voice held out. It held out for a long time.

I awoke from this dream drenched and shaking. It was an hour before I
could even get back into bed.

--
ad astra per technica,
FF