Haley Thistle
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Slime Girlfriend: Vida (special preview)
🕑 Added 2020-11-26 22:00:01 +0000 UTCIt 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.
