Changes

My girlfriend has changed.

I woke up about a week ago and she was like this. Her skin was gray and her eyes were rolled back into her head. She was sitting up in bed, staring ahead and drooling. I turned over in an attempt to spoon. It took me a few seconds to realize that her skin was cold.

"Anna?" I said sleepily.

"Gruahhhgh," she groaned, and that was it. That's the only sound she makes now; a mixture between a groan, a growl, and a gurgling noise.

She won't sleep. She hasn't eaten all week. Her once beautiful long, red hair is knotted and tangled. I wake up to her sometimes, her dirty fingernails pressing into my scalp, with that blank yet somehow menacing look on her face.

"Go to sleep, Anna," I say, and she gurgles at me.

I think she still loves me. I mean, I still love her. I do. But lately I feel like she's only attracted to my body. She looks at me hungrily, but not in that horny-romantic sort of way.

She's just not the same anymore.

"Anna," I say, "come watch TV with me." I'll guide her to the couch and turn on the TV, but the picture just reflects off of her white eyes as she stares blankly ahead.

"Anna," I say, "do you want to go shopping?" I'll put the purse in her hands, but she drops it every time, as if her muscles are too stiff to curl into a grip.

I tried to get her to go on a bike ride with me the other day, but she only got as far as lifting one leg over the seat before toppling over. The bike landed on top of her and I ran over yelling, but she didn't react at all. She lay there under her bike, foaming at the mouth and staring off into space. She had a nasty scrape on the back of her leg, but she didn't even flinch when I dabbed rubbing alcohol on it. And I have to admit, I poked her harder just to see if she would.

She doesn't go out anymore, preferring to spend the day in bed. When the sun goes down, I can hear her in our bedroom, walking around in a daze and bumping into things.

Her parents don't know. She hasn't called them, and that's her decision. But I'm getting worried. I think they should know the state their daughter is in. Who knows, what if this turns out to be dangerous?

I suppose it's not that strange. I've overheard four or five other people at work talking about it. It's spreading like a trend. It's not like Anna is the only one.

I figure she'll snap out of it eventually. I'll wake up one day and she'll be sighing in my ear, her warm breath smelling like day-old plaque instead of rotting gums.

Yeah, I can stick it out until then. I mean, it isn't that big of a deal. How long can it last?