Slime Girlfriend: Vida (rough draft)

It was sort of a family thing to poke fun at your great aunt. She had married very young to a wealthy man, who died early in the marriage. Ever since she lived as a sort of strange recluse in her massive home, which over the years, she slowly renovated to her liking. The once sleek, modern veneer of the place now looked like it had been pulled from sitcoms and magazines of the 50s.

There had been rumors your great aunt lived with someone, a caretaker perhaps, but no one had ever seen this mysterious person. The rumors about this mystery individual had been stretched out and multiplied in your family to where it was a secret child kept locked up all these years, to a kidnapped kid, and so on.

Having connected a bit with your aunt while she was alive. As a child she used to have you sneak her appetizers so she didn’t have to approach anyone else in the family. As you got older she told you things no other adults would. She passed you on books and ideas that helped shape you into who you would become. She was the first person you went to when you began questioning your sexuality. To you, she was a mentor while the rest of the family treated her like some witch. Which she didn’t mind considering her love of Bewitched.

Upon her passing, the very same family members who poked fun at her were rubbing their hands together with excitement for what she left them. They didn’t seem to miss her, despite a few sad remarks, but they did seem to revel in the idea of an inheritance. She had no children, so everyone assumed they would be getting some sort of share. As if her home and bank accounts were a cake to be divided.

Well, no one got anything, but you got everything. Her will was a loving letter of adoration to you, naming off all the little things about you she adored, each one attributed to why you were getting her estate and no one else was getting a dime. You weren’t sure what to do with such a massive cake, several massive cakes really. Your aunt, for decades, had kept secret several businesses and investments that had made her a millionaire multiple times over. It was a shock to everyone except the lawyer who was the only other person left anything, and only because your aunt wanted her to help you navigate this new life.

“Here are the keys to your new home. As per her instruction, when she died, the house was completely cleaned from top to bottom, and your things will be moved in right away.” She places the keychain in your hand then passes you another small letter. “Instructions for the house and its upkeep, codes to safes, secret hiding spots, hidden doors.”

You’re still mesmerized by the situation, so you still haven’t been able to process everything. This was just another scoop of icing to the cake. “Is this a Scooby Doo house?”

She just smiles. “You know how to reach me should you need anything.” She leaves from the porch, going to her brand new car which was part of what your aunt left her.

Sighing heavily, you look up at the pretty red doors of the house. The glass was covered by sheer curtains, so all you could see inside were shadows and faint shapes. Each key was color coded, red for the front and back doors. You unlock the door and step inside. The place smells like pine sol and lemon, so clean, so fresh. Closing the door behind you the lights slowly brighten the foyer. Everything is retro chic, bright pops of color against pure white, antique furniture, vintage linens. The whole house looked like a museum to the 50s.

You go into the living room and sit down on the sofa. Across from you was her chair, and you could remember the way she sat in it, smoothing out her skirt, tucking in the crinoline. You sigh sadly before opening the sealed envelope with her instructions.

“My dearest niece, by now you are in your new home, taking in the comforts and wallowing in your misery. I simply ask that you do not become haunted by my memory, but rather, you revel in it. I am at peace now, content I lived my life as I wished no matter what anyone else said. I am with my husband again, which is all I ever wanted. For now, Vida will take care of you and help you navigate my home.”

You search the envelope for more, you even hold the paper up to the light to find hidden instructions, but that is all that’s there. “Who is Vida?” You murmur to yourself.

The sound of a door opening startles you, causing the hairs of your body to stand on end. Jumping up from the sofa, you have two choices, run for the door or see who is there. You walk from the living room back to the foyer, listening for footsteps. You turn and look around, reaching for your phone to call the lawyer when you hear someone in the kitchen.

You tiptoe quietly, hoping to spot the intruder before you make a run for it. Peering through the glass door you see the fridge is open and a poof of bright yellow skirt jutting out. As the fridge closes you think there must be something wrong with your eyes, because all you see is glossy pink.

The figure takes a small plate and sets it on the counter where there is a loaf of bread. She starts humming, singing to herself. You quietly open the kitchen door and step inside. Your eyes have not played any tricks on you, indeed, this woman is entirely made up of some sort of slick, glossy substance.

She turns to look at you, nearly clear, sparkling with glitter that forms freckles on her face. She smiles brightly, clasping her hands together. “I was just making you lunch!”

You blink a few times. “I’m-” You have no clue what to say. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

She approaches you swiftly and takes your hand into her’s. “My name is Vida, and I have been so eager to meet you!”

“Vida?” Your voice quakes.

She smiles brightly, she has glasses set over where eyes should be, and a sweet pouty mouth that was darker in color than the rest of her. She wears a yellow dress and white apron, making her match your aunt’s retro aesthetic.

“I was Lillian’s creation,” she states simply. “She rescued me from a raccoon and helped me to grow.”

“Uh-” You’re still not sure what to say or do.

“I’m slime!” She says excitedly, posing for you.

You nod. “Okay.”

Vida coils back, clutching her arms to her chest as she looks at you. “Is everything alright? You look rather pale.”

You take a seat at the table and take a few deep breaths. “This is just, a lot.” You laugh in frustration then begin to cry. “I’m sorry I’m sure you’re nice. I just can’t-”

Vida pets the top of your. “Lillian told me how close you two were. I’m so sorry. She told me to take care of you.” She uses the corner of her apron to mop up your tears. “I know this is a lot to take in, but I will be here by your side.”

“I don’t know what a slime is,” you whimper.

Vida chuckles softly. “It’s okay, I don’t know what you are either,” she says playfully. “But, we have lots of time to learn about one another.”

Vida makes you a sandwich, quite possibly the best sandwich you’ve ever had. She tells you about living with Lillian, having her own room in the basement where she runs a small business she and Lillian had started together. She’s sweet, you can admit that. You just can’t seem to get used to her glossy pink appearance. She was your key to the entire house though, she knew every nook, cranny, and secret passage that you would have to learn.

After lunch, your belongings are delivered and taken to the master bedroom where you decide to unpack to keep busy. Vida helps by opening boxes and sorting things. “My, you do have a lot of black,” she remarks at one point.

“I know Aunt Lillian liked color.” You’ve never had a walk-in closet before, so as you hang you clothes you remark at how little it seems you have.

“I’m very good at sewing!” Vida says cheerfully. “I can measure you one day and make you all sorts of clothes.”

You look back at her, seeing her brightly smiling as she’s folding sheets that won’t fit your new king sized bed. “You don’t have to do that.”

Vida takes out another badly folded sheet from the box. “But I’d like to, just tell me what you like and I can start planning.”

You look back at your clothes and your heart feels heavy. “How long were you with my aunt?”

“Oh goodness,” Vida murmurs. “Ten years, I believe?” She rises from the bed, smoothing down her skirt. “Do you want to talk about her?”

You hang your head. “I thought I knew so much about her, but after she died, it’s like the wall she kept up finally came down. I feel like I didn’t even try to get to know her.”

Vida comes to stand beside you. “If it helps, she did that purpose. It wasn’t you at all, she shared more of herself with you than anyone. But she kept herself a secret from almost everyone.”

The glitter that formed Vida’s freckles shimmered in the lights, making her face have a radiant glow. She looks sweet, acts sweet, you wonder if she even tastes sweet. “Even you?”

“There would be times I wouldn’t see or hear from her for days. She always had something to do, always had business to take care of. She gave me my business, and it helped me to pass the time between seeing her and not seeing her.”

You sniffle and mop up your misty eyes with your sleeve. “What is your business?”

Vida smiles brightly. “I can show you my workshop if you like. Maybe taking a step away from all this moving will help.”

You nod, looking at all the boxes still left untouched. “Yeah. It’s a bit more overwhelming than I thought.”

Vida takes your hand and lead you away. You go back downstairs, through the kitchen, and take a hidden door that opens behind the fridge.

“How many more hidden doors are there?” You ask in alarm.

“There’s one in every room,” she answers nonchalantly.

You stare in disbelief. “What for?”

Vida leads you down a set of stairs and into a workshop. One side of the room there are racks with clothes hanging from them. There’s a desk with a sewing machine and bins full of bails of fabric. On the other side there’s a counter with a sink, and above it there are tons of supplies, cups, containers, brightly colored dyes and liquids, tons of bottles of glue. The counter and shelves take up a whole wall and the shelves even go around where there are molds and more mystery containers.

“I do all sorts of things,” Vida says. “I have a shop just for clothing, a shop for slime, I also make custom dildos.”

“That’s quite the enterprise,” you murmur. “Wait, you make slime even though you are slime?”

“It’s not the same thing. I’m made up of an entirely different substance than these slimes. I make them all from scratch just like everything in my shop.” She goes over to the sink and takes down a container filled with purple slime and white beads. “Lillian was a huge fan of the slime craze, we started making it together, and she helped me set up my shop so I would have something personal to do.”

You take the tub of slime, seeing a pretty sticker logo, along with it being vacuum sealed in plastic. “Baby Slimes?”

“Isn’t it cute? I call them my babies, because well-” She giggles and covers her face with her hands. “No one else gets the joke, so it’s nice to finally share it with someone.” She then motions to the racks. “I also started making clothes to sell when I discovered I have a knack for it. It’s really time consuming, but I suppose that’s what I enjoy about it.”

“I had seen where Aunt Lillian invested in a clothing line, I guess this is it.”

Vida looks up at you and smiles. “Lillian was so supportive, she loved that I had an entrepreneur spirit.” She then looks back to the counter. “She really liked my idea of dildo casting.”

“Yeah about that-” You murmur slowly. “You seem so, no offense, saccharinely innocent, how did you get into that?”

Vida lifts her hand, shaping it and twisting it around. “I have a pretty active social media presence, I’ve seen just about everything. I came across a few shops online that make sex toys after monsters, and it really piqued my interested! I learned how to make molds, and because of how I can shape myself, I just cast the shapes I can make.”

You furrow your brow. “People are into monsters like that?”

“Everything has a subcategory of people that want to fuck it.” She says that with such an innocent smile and chipper voice, you hardly take in what she’s saying as serious.

“Well, I suppose that’s true,” you murmur.

“I rather like it myself,” she says. “I really like dragons.”

You look her over, taking in her shape which is quite curvy and soft. You blush, feeling bad for thinking that way about her. “Well, apparently, I’m your investor now. So, keep up the good work.”

“I will!”

Over the next few weeks, you learn about your new businesses as much as you learn about the house. Your aunt seemed to have every finger in at least three pies, but you were working with the lawyer to narrow things down, sell some, keep some, things like that.

Vida has been keeping you fed and on task. She’s a remarkable cook, able to take anything Julia Child could do, and make it look easy. He dogeared copy of ‘Master the Art of French Cooking’ looked well loved, well worn, and was even falling apart in a few places, while overstuffed with her own notes.

“You really don’t have to go out of your way everyday to cook for me,” you tell her. “I don’t mind ordering take out from time to time if you want a break.”

“Nonsense! I love to cook, better yet, I love to see people enjoy my cooking.” She then frowns “Although, at this point, it’s really just been you and your aunt.”

You watch her as she slips on gloves to wash dishes. “Are you okay with being kept in the house all the time?”

“It’s my choice,” she says softly. She turns on the sink and squirts some soap into the stream. “Ever since I came here, I’ve wanted to stay here.”

“Why?” You ask in surprise.

Vida goes quiet, taking a sponge to the dishes.

“Vida?” You ask gently.

She sighs. “I don’t want to talk about it now, please.”

You rise from the table and go to stand beside her. “Want me to help you with the dishes? It’s the least I can do.”

Her small frown becomes a big smile. “If you’d like. I have extra gloves if you want to pair.”

You smile back at her. “It’s alright. I’m fine getting wet.”

Vida stands close to you while you wash dishes together. You scrub, she rinses and dries them. Every so often her side will bump into yours and you’ll feel a rush of warmth to your cheeks and belly.

“Actually,” Vida says in the sweetest voice yet. “Could I ask for your help with something else? I have a lot of packages to ship out tomorrow, and I could use the extra hands.”

“Sure, I’d be glad to help.” You wipe your hands on a dish towel. “Do you wanna start tonight or tomorrow?”

Vida acts shocked. “You’d really wanna give up your night? Surely you’d much rather go out or spend some time with somebody special.”

“I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” you chuckle. “And I don’t really go out, so to speak. Those sorts of things have to be planned so I can prepare for them.”

Her smile is so cute. “Then I’m honored you would want to spend your time with me.”

You go downstairs with Vida who lays out her method of packing her shipments. She prints out the mailing slips and address labels, stacking them together so you go about each order one by one.

As you packing up boxes, Vida seems to keep wanting to say something but holding back. Eventually, as the pile thins, she asks. “On the first is when I open my toy shop, and I usually sell out in a day or two. Would you mind helping me again then?”

“Sure, I’d be glad to help you anytime.”

“Is there anyway I can thank you for the help?”

“You cook for me almost every night! I owe you.” You finish sealing up a box. “There, that’s the last one. Would you like to watch a movie or something?”

Vida nods. “Sure. Just nothing scary, I hate being scared.”

“That’s fine, I was thinking something easy going anyway.” You help her up off the floor and then carry the bags of packages upstairs to set by the front door.

As you set the last bag down, Vida plants a small soft kiss upon your cheek. You look at her with surprise and the pink of her body shifts to a darker shade. “Thanks again,” she says softly. “It means a lot you’d want to help me.”

You touch your cheek and nod. “Of course. Thinking nothing of it Vida.” Your heart hammers in your chest and you smile. “So uhm, what movie would you like to watch.”

“Something romantic,” she sighs. “I’m in a mood.”

Your heart skips a beat. “I think I am too.”