I have a type and she fit it perfectly like all the rest I had before her. She was one of those girls who had meat in all the right places and all you wanted to do was keep squeezing it endlessly. So I fed her the usual lies to keep riding that fine ass before I got bored and ended it like all my trysts used to come to an end. Little did I know that after her, life as I knew it would come to an end, too!

Now every night I dream about her and about that last night we spent together. How I had fucked her; how she kept saying she was crazy about me. That stupid cow had always been a little intense. She started as a tease in the beginning and I had to work hard to get her to go out with me, but a little challenge always makes things more fun.

That particular night, after fucking her brains out, I had started thinking about when and how to end it with her. Just thinking about it was giving me another hard-on, not that she'd noticed it. She was busy yakking about our future, where she'd like to get married, how many kids she wanted, what kind of house we'd live in… Like I said, she was an amazing lay but a stupid cow.

She had propped herself on an elbow; her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders and onto my face as she whispered something I'll never forget. Placing a hand on my chest, she softly said, "I'll always be in you, John." It sounded like a lame line in some straight-to-video movie. Her voice sounded almost like she was whimpering, and her eyes looked like they were on fire. It had irritated the hell out of me and I knew for sure that it was the right time to get rid of this clingy whore and get myself something new.

Now I keep going back to that night in my dreams. Keep hearing her say those words. I have seen so many doctors, had all kinds of tests done, and taken so many pills, but nothing conclusive ever comes back. But that dream never stops coming, and that voice keeps playing in my head like a voice-over in some lame true crime documentary.

I always wake up with something sharp scraping the back of my throat and a violent coughing fit. I swear it feels like my lungs will explode and their little pieces will start dropping out of my mouth along with the blood.

Every. single. time!

And as always, I rush to the sink, put two fingers deep in my mouth to catch its end, and desperately pull at it, because it's never not there. The thick, long, soggy string of blonde hair clogging my airways as I pull it out of my mouth like some sick joke.

Like the bitch knew I was going to kill her when she said, "I'll always be in you, John".