Oh jesus, it was only a dream, but what a dream… it whispered in Her voice, gave the scent of Her femininity, shined the bright blue green of Her eyes all the way through my soul… I was helpless to it, could only ride the wave, screaming and groaning the litany of her name in my mind…

I knew Jennifer must be cold natured; what else explained a woman who kept her house sixty eight degrees and wandered around in a t-shirt? The house was so cold her windows were covered in dew from the outside air. She was quirky like that; which of course only made her all that much more attractive to me.

It all started with her neck, though. The neck of a woman, as I once heard it said, is her mystery, the one true place of perfect shadow and light, forever begging to be nuzzled and kissed.

And when she opens the door, I’ll get a closer look.

Shit, I hated this bitch. What was her name? Who the fuck cares.

Well, I guess I do. The dreams….

Why do I do this to myself? I know he’s coming over. Soft hearted Eric, the big fuzzy teddy bear man she loves so much. Scheming bastard. He’s so totally wrong for her—too nice, too… I don’t know, goddammit, too NOT ME!

Tonight I won’t let him get her. Tonight I’m leaving the trees and going in. Tonight Aaron will prevail.

"Hey, Jen, how you doing?"

She stood there in her t-shirt and looked at me a moment. Considering? Probably.

"I’m alright, Eric. What are you doing here?"

My blackouts were getting stronger, more erratic. I understood the reason, the other wanting to break his chains, break out his destiny, but… I knew it would not stop me from seeing her again. Jennifer and Eric, meant to be together. For a while.

"I came to see you, see what you’re up to. Sitting at home alone gets boring as well as lonely." Honest enough, I guess. One does have to ease the boredom.

She smiled, a happy smile I thought, and gestured me inside. It wasn’t the first time I showed up on her doorstep. As we walked down the hallway to her living room I looked in the hallway mirror and gave the image a meaningful look. Then I grinned and followed her to the couch.

The house reflected her personality: colorful, very eclectic, and serious with a playful edge. An abstract Picasso print sat on a wall next to a Rembrant classical snowy cottage scene. Of course I loved it all, the strangeness and abruptness of it – it was very much Jennifer.

"Would you like some water, or a beer?"

I smiled tentatively. "Beer would be nice."

What am I doing here? I don’t even remember coming in!

She nodded and padded into her tiny kitchen. I watched as she kicked aside pots and pans and dodged low hanging plants on her way to the refrigerator. She was too fucking adorable. My smile died. I hated women who got in my head like this, set me up for hurt and pain and…

What the fuck was going through my head? Eric was going to be here any minute…

I started a bit when she handed me a beer and then sat on the couch next to me.

"Thanks," I managed to get out. She nodded.

"So… how have you been? I haven’t seen you in days, and was worried you had disappeared." Surprisingly enough she did actually look like she had worried. I smiled, pleased.

"Well, I’ve been working on a couple of new pieces. The inspiration flows, and so I’ve gone with it. Unfortunately that usually means I’m isolated from the world, trying to focus everything into getting my visions on canvas."

Jennifer lit up. "Can I see any of them?" I laughed at her excitement. Her face was absolutely adorable when she her eyes widened like that. Childlike, almost.

"Sure, but we’d have to go over to my place."

Jennifer was already up and moving, practically running to her bedroom. "I’ll just get dressed," I heard her say, then her door shut.

It was always nice to have a companion to celebrate the completion of a new set of paintings.

I practically had to steady my hand to get the keys in the lock.. I couldn’t remember a time I let a woman come in to check out my work. Especially when she was the subject of it.

Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember ever talking to one of my subjects.

I finally got the door unlocked and opened, turned on the lights and gestured Jennifer on past me. "The place is a mess, I never really expect visitors…" I said in apology. She smiled and walked past. The smell of her hair in passing made me close my eyes and remember the bliss of drawing her form… and the dreams…

"Eric, are these… me?" she asked. She stood in the middle of the main room of the warehouse apartment that I rented for my work. The flesh of her neck under her pulled up hair enticed and entranced me. I tried to ignore the bulge I knew was growing in my pants, but in the end simply hoped it wouldn’t be noticed. "They are so beautiful, Eric, the coloring is gorgeous."

"Thank you," I said. Jennifer looked back at me and I blushed, though not from her compliments. "I have been studying you for the past couple of months in my mind. I simply bring forth the beauty that I see in you." It was her turn to blush then. I grinned like an idiot. It was a move that normally worked for me, and this proved to be no exception. She was pleased, there was no doubt.

"Well, I have no furniture in here, as you can see, but I’ll find some pillows and we can sit on the floor." I walked out into the room, meaning to pass her and get the pillows of my bed…

This is MY domain!

My mind whirled in fucking circles, making me dizzy. I stumbled, but she caught me quickly. My stomach started jumping along with the muscles in my legs and I collapsed on the floor.

"Eric, are you alright?"

I shivered at the sound of THAT name. THAT name, THAT fucking name, why in the hell did she have to call me THAT name?! It made no sense, none of it made sense, not the girl being there, not the dreams I had nightly of being with Her, pressed against Her body, breathing in Her scent…

I realized I was hard. I sobbed. She was already on the floor, pulling my head into her lap and crooning to me.

Why wasn’t she as confused as I was?

"Jennifer," mumbled through tears into her thigh, "what is happening to me?"

"Shhhh…" she whispered, her hands stroking my head, "don’t you remember telling me about your blackouts? You even told me what to expect when they happen." I froze, and the horror retook me. WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON?! I already knew, but wouldn’t let myself realize it. "It’s going to be alright, Eric." I closed my eyes and sobbed again.

After a few minutes the tears stopped. I was tired. None of it made sense, not any sense that it should. Life was watching, painting, never talking to the subjects, the fucking teases, the bitches that would only shun me for the freak I was.

But Jennifer wasn’t teasing me.

Of course not, genius, that’s because she thinks that you are ME.

Fuck you, you are just a dream, a bad delusion I’ve had all my life that kept me from ever participating in life… YOU are the reason I am ugly inside, and only able to show the beauty of others on canvas. The fucking voices in my head…

Oh, and I thought you were bright there for a second. I guess not. Maybe I should have let you have some brains, it might have made things more… interesting.

"No." I whispered fiercely. "I am taking what is mine."

You little toad, she’s MINE, I am the one she wants, not you, you perverted insect. You couldn’t handle her if you wanted to.

I pulled myself out of her lap, left my hands on her hips as I rose slightly to face her. She looked at me, a question on her lips. I covered it with my own. She responded quickly, passionately, her tongue slipping in beside mine, her breath deepening, falling into my lungs. We were one body, one mind, one soul, joined by the flesh of our lips and tongue. Tears streamed down my face at the simple joy of it.

SHE IS NOT YOURS!

It was the first time I actually acknowledged one of my blackouts. I realized then that was why I didn’t allow mirrors in the room when I was painting. I couldn’t face the reflection.

Where did Jennifer go?

I felt a low chuckle collect in my throat. "I said she was mine." I said.

Only I didn’t say that. Shit shit shit shit SHIT.

"What the fuck?" I couldn’t tell what actually came out. It was like pushing past cotton; no, it was like taking conscious control of my face and vocal cords, and trying to make them work for me. "What is happening?" I tried to say.

"This is what happens when two personalities take over one body, you idiot," my voice echoed effortlessly in my ears. "You aren’t good enough for Jennifer, and so you won’t have her." I felt cold at the undertones of that statement.

YOU WON’T HURT HER! I screamed in my head, bypassing my mouth to communicate with that sick son of a bitch, that piece of shit that made me live this shell of a life.

"Shell? You wouldn’t even EXIST if I hadn’t wanted you to. I created you, insect, because I needed something inspired, insane, something that could take the skills of my hands and turn them into brilliance on paper." I watched as my body walked to a dark corner of the studio where a set of old canvases stood, covered with a sheet. It was a place I never walked to, never even thought about approaching as long as I had worked and lived in the studio.

My hand dragged the sheets off, revealing scores of canvases scattered all over the floor and on the stands. They were… cold, dead. The lines seemed right, the features on the faces were proportioned correctly, but all of them were just… there.

"Is it painfully clear to you now, insect? I cannot give my art life. And so I created you, and gave you subjects to study, objects of obsession with which to focus your passions." Again the low chuckle.

But Jennifer was different, I whispered. She loved ME, you fuck, not you. She loved the life and passion that you tried so hard to imitate, but couldn’t capture.

Suddenly I realized the dreams had been real. Bits and pieces of imagery, pressing of her naked flesh against mine, the touch of her hair on my face, the smell of her sweat…

"You will never have you, insect, you are not even a whole man. You are not good enough for her. You weren’t good enough for any of them. So I made sure, after you finished each set of paintings, that you could never have them."

BUT YOU WON’T HURT JENNIFER!

I wrenched control of my body back, reached into the pocket of my pants and pulled out a butterfly knife. It was wet, slimy almost, but I didn’t let it stop me. I drew the blade across my throat hard. Blood sprayed everywhere, but I was already numb again, separated from my body, and so couldn’t feel it.

"You dumb bastard…" my body gurgled.

You won’t hurt Jennifer, you demented fuck. If I can’t have her, at least I will save her.

"I should’ve given you more brains…" the son of a bitch whispered.

I watched myself stagger to the floor. There was blood all over the wooden floor, wet and dry.

Dry? Noooooooo….

I really should have given you more brains, insect. He coughed a choked chuckle out. Then my body crawled along the path of dried blood. It led to the bathroom.

NONONONONONONONONONONONONO

My body finally collapsed, my head turning slightly so I could see inside the bathroom as the life continued to pour out of us.

Her head lay on the ground, eyes glazed over and mouth open in a silent scream.

I was too late.

I told you she was mine. Forever.