My girlfriend talks in her sleep. She's been saying the most horrible things recently...

I’m infatuated with her. Utterly infatuated. And it wasn’t at a healthy level. Far from it. I would think about her every moment she was away. I would sometimes sit on my couch and just stare at my phone waiting for her to text. I’d tell myself “Don’t contact her. *Don't*. It will come off as too strong.” But then I’d still find myself clicking her name on my contact list before my inner voice would continue, “You don’t want her to know how desperately smitten you are with her. It’s unattractive. It will scare her off. No, you must wait for her to call you this time.” Nevertheless, I’d already be clicking the “call” button before that last thought was even finished. I couldn’t help myself. I was hooked on her. I wanted her more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. And I’m not ashamed to admit that my obsession was total and complete. It wasn’t just emotionally that I wanted her. No, it went far beyond that. I wanted her physically. I was infatuated with every contour of her body. I loved all the lines and curves in all the right places. Her long, flowing red hair. Her bright blue eyes that seemed to glow in the right light. Her smile that could light up an entire city block. I would daydream about her at work. I would think about her in the car. I would think about her as I fell asleep. I would even dream about her. And now that I type this out, I can see that it was probably a bit too much. But nobody in their early 30s has ever been in love, I thought. They just thought they did. But not me. I was *really* in love (or so I thought). And I would have done anything for her. *Anything*. It was actually a miracle that I had been able to hold out on having a real relationship with her for as long as I had. It must have been three or four months that I met her before we actually went out. We met at my work. She was a hired extra in a commercial we were producing. (I’m a producer for a small film and television production company). I remember that first moment I saw her. I was sitting in my office looking over some casting choices we’d made for the commercial. I looked up when I heard the door open. But it was only Michelle, my assistant producer, with another bunch of headshots of people who’d shown up to be extras. I ignored her until she said, “You know, I saw some of the extras showing up as I was grabbing some lunch. There’s one in particular that I think you’ll be particularly interested in.” I looked up from the papers that I was reading and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And why would that be?” “Because she’s your type, that’s why.” I chuckled. “And just what is my type, exactly?” “Tall, red hair, long legs, beautiful green eyes, a big smile and Curves in all the right places. That’s your type.” I kept smiling. “How do you know all that?” “Because I’ve seen you pick actresses for your shows for the last three years now. And if you think that every character happens to just so happen to fit that description just because it’s good for the story, then you’re not the man I think you are.” I ‘d been congratulating myself on the subtlety of my sexism when I first hired this place. But here it was out in the open now. Luckily, she wasn’t calling me sexist. She was calling me a man. And I liked that a little too much. Honestly, I probably would have been alright with her calling me a sexist if it meant that I could still be classified a man from her perspective. I purred after that. “Well then, *is* there an actress like that here? You know, for the story.” She smiled and nodded before turning around and leaving the room. I sat back in my chair and grinned. A few minutes later, Michelle returned. “This is Jenny.” She stepped aside. And there she was. Everything that I had just described. And now, here we are. In bed together. Together for almost six months now. I couldn’t be happier. Well… There’s one thing. Just recently, she’s started talking in her sleep. It’s been about four or five nights now. It’s always the same thing. It always happens around 3 AM. And it always stops after about 5 minutes. Every night, she’d just say one sentence, over and over and over again. She’d say, “I haven’t killed anybody yet, I haven’t killed anybody yet, I haven’t killed anybody yet.” ‘Yet’. That was the enunciator. Every night she’d say that same sentence over and over again. Never changing it at all. But she’d always put extra emphasis on that last word. “I haven’t killed anybody yet, I haven’t killed anybody *yet*, I haven’t killed anybody *yet*, I haven’t killed anybody yet.” At first I thought that it was just a night mare she was having. But nightmares don’t last for five minutes. And they usually don’t stay so consistent. So then I thought that maybe it was a joke that someone had told her at work. Maybe it was a defense mechanism. Maybe when someone was threatening her, she’d just keep repeating ‘I haven’t killed anybody yet’, like a prayer. But what were the odds that someone would say that to her? Unless it was just a joke they were playing on her. Unless they knew about her dreams. Unless they were trying to get inside of her dreams. Unless it was something supernatural. I’m not saying that I actually believed in any supernatural nonsense. But each night after she’d finish saying that, I couldn’t help but feel a slight… creepiness in the air. It would last for about half an hour. It would just be something that I couldn’t quite describe that I’d feel in my gut. But it was there. I’m sure of it. Nevertheless, I’d always dismiss the feeling whenever it arose. It was absurd to think there was anything otherworldly going on. It was just a weird dream and nothing more. That was my argument. But damn that creepy feeling. It was so strong. It didn’t feel like a natural feeling. Well, whatever. It didn’t matter. I was just happy that she was staying over each night. So I’d just forget about it each time. And it would never come up during the day. But then, last night, something changed. It was around 3 AM. I was asleep. I was groggy. But I remember being woken up by her saying “I haven’t killed anybody yet” as she normally did. But then she stopped. I remember there being a long pause. At least 30 seconds or so. And then she said something else. “Soon though, I’ll have.” Then she was silent. She never said anything else. I knew she wasn’t asleep though. I could feel her looking over at me. She was staring at me. I could feel it on my skin. I was too groggy to look at her though. I was barely lucid enough to be aware at all. I remember trying to force myself to look over at her. But my head felt like it was made of cement. I couldn’t move it. All I remember is that I fell back to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. There was a note on the nightstand. “I had to go into work early. I’ll see you tonight. Love You sweetness.” That was it. I crumpled the note up and tossed it to the side. I don’t know why. I just did. Then I got out of bed and went about getting ready for the day. It’s 9:45 now. I’m at my desk. I have a meeting in 15 minutes. It’s for a new commercial that we’ll be producing. I’m actually bringing the idea to them today. It’s an idea that me and Jenny have been working on together. That’s actually part of the reason that I’m so smitten with her. We’ve been spending a lot of time together working on projects. Sometimes I feel like we talk more to each other about work stuff than we do our own coworkers. But this commercial idea is the biggest project we’ve worked on together so far. We’ve spent countless hours hashing it out over the last few weeks. We’ve made a very good team. It’s actually made me consider making her a teammate of mine here at work. I think she’d be a great producer. After all, I’m in love with her. I want to spend as much time with her as possible. Why not give her a job here? I could get her a good position. I completely control

My girlfriend talks in her sleep. She's been saying the most horrible things recently...

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