Below are the 18 most recent journal entries recorded in Nic.'s LiveJournal:

Sunday, September 3rd, 2006
10:50 am	I can tell you, dear diary, that I seem to have taken on a keen interest in the pathologies of failure in the line of work I have been brought into. Of Wednesday's there are certainly very few, but I seem to be taking on a certain reputation that allows me more access to the laboratories and files of others than many would enjoy. I'm not sure if it might be that some think I'm nice, or that I'm bumbling enough that I will let slip some detail of the work I help administrate every day. The sorts of things that go on here - I would never have guessed. The ethical concerns and outright violations that goes on in this very campus is all very interesting. And these are just the files that go reported.. I'm not sure if I simply enjoy the thrill of being privy to this sort of information or if I really do savor the clinical details of the fate of such mishaps as 'Volunteer 32-A; Internal pneumatic-assisted hypertrophy augmentation.' It gives me shivers - but reminds me never to miss a step, especially where it concerns alterations in skin elasticity. I think Dr. Shahmat likes me. Um. Very overtly. I've been meaning to write about me, so I'll have to do that very soon. I feel so much better. Remember to write about it Nicole. :-) Last week I assisted with my first.. Surgery with my mentor. Psychology would have certainly never been so hands on. The way she operated her tools was masterful - though maybe I'm a little blinded by my feelings. It was, um. Very enthralling. I guess that makes me as uncomfortable as I feel exhilarated - but I managed to do it. Don't I need a licence for this? I never met the subject. a freshman. Everything was there. She was right behind me, directing me. I could feel my toes curling in my shoes as her hands passed over mine. I dabbed the scalpel so gently and his flesh parted at my will. Eww! Its so weird to write about, but I think I did well. 'Passable,' she assured me in whispers as I muttered and lamented my perceived missteps. We managed to affix the small implant to the directed area and Wednesday closed the incision, working from behind me. My heart was pounding, but I didn't come apart until after we had moved him into the general recovery area and I had gone into the shower area. Maybe my experiences have made me stronger? Maybe its just that I've latched onto something that works. But how long before it comes unravelled? I can continue on under Wednesday in some respects, but if I ever want.. To become licenced, credited, to follow fully in her work, I will need to get into the programs here. It will take money, effort and perhaps a bit of luck. Maybe mom might be able to help. Perhaps a loan. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, July 11th, 2006
6:47 pm	[SIGNAL IN RANGE 18:48:23] Sitting here, looking out the balcony towards the water. The doors are closed and the air conditioner on, but I can still see the thunderstorm across the way. Those crooked flashes of light reflected in the choppy waters as the winds cause the trees below to sway. She is resting behind me. Seems so peaceful. I said I wanted to watch the storm, and she indulged me - though she is fast asleep by now. So much more relaxed. Less severe. Its hard to choose between the lightning and simply watching her sleep. It was suggested we both take a little time off. Though we've already taken enough time with our vacations.... ..To put us severely behind, Wednesday at least found a charming resort hotel nearby for us to simply hole up in for a few days. Is it a spa? I rarely go to these things. I've already been scolded at the buffet - I'm not sure if she ever noted my habit of taking much more food than I planned to eat, but it was commented on tonight. Staring down at me as I tried my best to polish off my plate of the awfully greasy food I had stacked together on the platter with the aim of simply nibbling at choice bits. My stomach still feels painfully full. Or maybe I'm hungry again. I'm not sure when I'll be able to relate to her what happened when I returned to the medical lab, or even recount it to myself. I guess it will just take time. For now I'm back and I can relax. She's so soft against my body, though apparently my elbows are making her uncomfortable given her mumbling. So sorry. I can feel 'its' weight along my leg, just under my bath robe. The brief flashes from the thunderstorm illuminate its presence, just like before. Maybe its even bigger? I wouldn't put it past her. But I know it will be gone again. 'If you want it to be.' She said. I never considered it a choice the first time, it had to go. Packed away, hidden as tightly as I could in my younger days. It seemed so pervasive the first time around. Maybe I'm a touch more at peace with myself that now that its returned, I still feel like -me,- even if the discomfort and desire for its dismissal remains. Its presence does not shatter my identity like it used to. Wednesday stirs, and its time to lay down against her. This is the last night before the short car ride back to drop off our bags and back to work. The rains are beating down on the balcony now. I think I'll just watch the storm a while longer as it passes. I'm always sad to see them go. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, June 19th, 2006
11:50 am	Putting the pieces back together. I don't know quite how to write this, I guess in story form before I forget it all. Oh, god, I hope I can forget. So, I flipped. I guess it was bound to happen. It had been so long since I had anything resembling a breakdown like this... So angry, distraught, and filled with disbelief. A most intimate brush with failure to be sure. But I'm home now, picking up the things I had thrown about in my rage, trying to fix the bits of memorabilia that had been given or earned - and still have become so special to me somehow. I first noticed after recovering from a feverish night spent in bed. The discomfort was tremendous, as one might expect.. I could scarcely call it worse than the first time around, but the bits and bobs of what had been done for me only a few years back were still there, interfering with the delicate process she had helped me orchestrate on myself. I even know how she did it - tracing the insertion to what I thought was a particularly severe session of intimate, ah, clamping. When it presented itself fully, when I could feel it - it was such a rude awakening. Not an hour later I was gone, out the door with my purse and a ruined apartment behind me. In tears, I stormed my way towards campus, but quickly lost my nerve. I began to pace. A rusty heap of something stopped next to me. Pinto, Gremlin, whatever - I'm not very good with cars. The driver looked like such a thug, but he offered me a ride. So I hopped in and was going down the highway before I could even give it a second thought. It was thirty miles and about the time he started feeling up my leg that I began to suspect the idea of simply running away was a fairly poor idea. Though my glare is nothing compared to hers, it made him back off as I stewed, arms crossed and wedged against the door beginning to feel very sorry for myself indeed. While I was lost in thought, my ride decided to detour into the lot of an abandoned drive in theatre and try his luck again. I don't need to remind myself what a wispish, helpless little thing I feel like so much of the time. I suppose that I should be somewhat thankful that once he was through pushing me down amongst the gravel and weeds and wrenched my skirt up, the sight of my re emergent attributes caused enough of a hit to his senses that I could provide another, in the form of my heel to his chest. Recollections of my recent beating and a vow not to be on the receiving end of another - or worse - crystallized the moment as I pulled what I could from my purse. An anniversary gift, of sorts, from doctor Wednesday that I had luckily forgotten to throw into the furthest corner of my apartment before storming out. I wish I could say I wielded it with as much grace as she would have, but in the end - and with a creepy lack of horror in my actions - I left him there. For his trouble, I had left him with an injury that will leave him with little use of that groping hand of his. And again, I was running. The underbrush back to the highway was awful, scratching at my face and poking up under my skirt. Oh, god - my undergarments were so ill fitting, I got as many scratches on my painful reminders as I did anywhere else. By the time I had cut through to the parking lot of a particularly seedy motel I was a mess. Exhausted, I checked in. I practically tore off my clothes and collapsed in bed. I'm not sure if it was the continued effects of the agent inside me, the stress, perhaps both - I was out like a light. I don't think I've ever had such horrible nightmares. For two days I laid on the bed, eating vending machine food and feeling sorry for myself. I tried to ignore its presence, but having fully matured it was very insistent on reminding me of its existence. Thoughts turned from the doctors, to my assault, to the boy in the car. I was so tired of being the victim. This had to stop. I would have to gather all my courage and face her. After a long, hot shower I dressed in my clothes for the first time since I stepped into the motel. Beyond being clean, I Didn't much care about my appearance, nor the certain presence observed by multiple people as I paid and went on my way to the nearest bus stop back to town and campus. My glaring apparently got better, as I was able to relieve myself of much of those disdainful, incredulous looks that I had left behind in my home country. Skipping my apartment and things, I was straight off the bus and to the medical center. Biting my lip, I pushed past the door and into the lobby. I was going to demand my life back from the doctor, and the feeling of control, however brief, thrilled me. Mmf. Finish later nic, time for sleep. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, May 22nd, 2006
4:06 am	Oh no oh no oh no oh no How could she.. What is, oh god.. it was all another trick wasnt it those things she made me work on those last few weeks they were all for me It burns it hurts its tender and here again not again.. I have to get out of here! (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, May 18th, 2006
12:19 pm	Wow. That doesn't happen every night. Stepping into the foyer to the labs, I couldn't help but notice all the power was gone, but the emergency lights were still casting bits of light into the complex. I guess I never really appreciated how few windows there actually were in that part of the complex, but my attention was diverted when my heel slipped by some thick pool of liquid. Fredrick from security was laying there - the one who keeps asking me to bring in coffee for him every morning.. His eyes looked so blank, staring into the reflection afforded by the huge pool of blood he had left. I don't remember reacting very much, but I did see several bullet cases laid out in an arc by the gun he still clutched in his matted hand. He may have been a jerk, but he still went down doing his job, I guess... I can remember stepping over him into the jarred open security door, down the dark hall without a single thought of how progressing further might imperil my safety.. So much money must have gone into the security doors in the labs, reinforced and kept locked by our keycard systems - except that hardly anyone knows how fragile the latch system itself is. Whoever the ones that broke in were, they did. Every other door had been forced open, the darkened rooms within were scattered about with papers and vandalised equipment. My pace quickened, heels clicking as I worked myself faster to my destination - for some reason, the sight of these war torn labs worried me more than the sight I left behind in the lobby. My fingers squeezed the frame of the wrecked door to the lab. There was a deathly silence inside and out, interrupted only by the abrupt dropping of my purse and the creak of protest from the mutilated outer door. The small office was in shambles, everything strewn about and disorderly. All the work organizing, filing, the results were in piles lingering with pools of caustic liquids creeping in from the lab. I rushed in then, rushing into the lab to greet the sight I knew I would dread. Everything had been absolutely wrecked. Corporate sabotage, no doubt. I did not have time to recount the items that might be missing as I crept over to an upturned cabinet. There, behind it lay a prostrate figure staring up at the ceiling, seeming so small.. Streaks of blood marred the stainless steel backing of her last refuge, trailing towards a hand still propped upwards on its equally cold brushed metal surface. Congealed beads of crimson ran from glossed lips down her cheek. She was so peaceful, and those eyes would worry no more as they stared longingly upwards beyond a tangled mess of powdery blue hair.. My point of view shifted.. Of course, jarred by seeing myself on the floor like that, I no longer see the scene from the point of view of my mentor.. I know just what I was hoping to see at the end there now, that last glimpse of those eyes before succumbing there on the cold floor. But she was too late. I could see, then, detached as she reached down and brushed some hair from my eyes. All I could see was disappointment in them, now, as she rose from the floor and I woke up in a start. Whew.. Well, that.. Was certainly quite a dream out of nowhere.. I'm still shaking and hot. That creepy feeling ion my spine just won't go away - maybe I'm coming down with something. I think I'll sleep in and skip out on Mr. Puusa's morning 'talk' session.. And see how I'm feeling before I come in for lab work. I Think the doctor is taking the day off anyways.. I haven't felt this weird since a long time. Stupid dreams.. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 2nd, 2006
1:20 am	Well dear diary, its been a little while hasn't it? I'll save the worst for last, promise. The past few weeks have been more activity than I can really manage. With everything going on like it is already I was rather unprepared for a call from mother. She decided she wanted to see how I'm doing down here, and was already in the process of picking out a flight date. I was left with little excuse - and even less time to prepare. While I am at heart a fairly messy individual, the doctor has been helping correct some of those tendencies. So it wasn't as bad as it could have been to get my loft into shape, although in the process I managed to break my little cow creamer. The ironic going away present from my best friend. Most of the shelves have been bare since I got here. Previous to now I have not been able to summon the energy to unpack everything. I was somewhat dreading Dr. Wednesday's reaction to rows upon rows of antiquated little toy soldiers mixed in with an entirely too large collection of porcelain unicorn statuettes. She said not to worry when I told her.. Though it seems I was missing out on an offer of going on a smaller road trip in her new car. Just my luck. She'd keep to her work for the majority of my mothers stay is what she said - and while limiting my mothers exposure to my mentor might have been some immediate cause for relief, it did turn to quite a bit of dread in no time at all. I don't dislike my mother, and I suppose our relation could somehow be more awkward, but the prospect of a week with just herself and I left me at a loss as to what to do. Beyond the school, some bars and my home, I still don't know the area well at all. Certainly I have underestimated my growing dependence upon Wednesday's guidance for even some of the more trivial matters. No, I didn't take my mother clubbing. I greeted mom at the airport with open arms. I don't think I realized how long its been. She's gone a little more silver at the edges, and I had to stoop a little more to hug her - though perhaps its me who is taller now. With skin flushed from a compliment about my hair, I was out the door with her bags and hailed a cab back home. She's never really understood my decision, or the needs behind it. I didn't expect she ever would, but she has been so kind, loving and supportive all the way through. I don't think I'll ever forget it, nor forgive how distant I felt I needed to become throughout my trials when I knew how accepting she would be. While we skirted this issue, it was constantly on my mind. I suspect it was on hers as well. We never really talked about it, and now that I've become perhaps a little more bolder, it was on the tip of my tongue through all the visits to the parks, the museum and every expedition we mounted to fill our time together. But it never came to that, settling into comfortable recollections of my previous life back home. The cabin, summers at the lake, the well wishes of friends I've left behind. I was already formulating the beginning of a small plan by Tuesday. Thursday saw my little scheme come to fruition. By the time I had begun second guessing myself, Doctor Wednesday arrived at my door for dinner. I certainly couldn't go the whole visit without introducing my mother to my mentor. Definitely not the other way around. She proved a source of strength, I suppose, for me to be much more open and frank in the small group setting. Though the doctor got perhaps a little.. Too tipsy over the course of the night - she did say some things that made me think.. Sigh.. That perhaps its not just me, and that beyond my undeniable obsession something much deeper has taken root. Perhaps its mutual, and not simply my own foolish wishes. I think mother picked up on these undertones - but didn't bring up any of it, I suspect in an effort not to embarrass me. When I returned from a quick trip to the restroom however, my heart froze. There, reclining on the couch much too close to each other was my mother and Wednesday. Each holding a drink, they were pressed nearly cheek to cheek amidst breathless laughter and wide, impassioned grins. "Oh god, not the baby pictures." I retreated into the recliner, sinking deep into the cushions as my mother poured over the photo albums, pointing out some of the more embarrassing portions of my childhood. Naked baths, silly costumes, smug looks cast up at me from the rims of the doctors glasses. I think I was blushing hot enough I could have combusted right there. I never would have suspected she would bring them, but it was effective ammunition. Finally as the night wound down, the doctor excused herself for the night. There in the foyer she stole a kiss from me I won't soon forget. Then she was off, and I was left to deal with the damage. The rest of the week and weekend passed rather quickly. It was so nice to have seeing my mom as part of my daily routine. If only for a little while. Late tonight it was finally time to see her off at the airport. There really wasn't anything much more to say. She wished me well, scolding about keeping in touch.. And told me she was proud of me.. .I left the airport feeling better than I have for a long time. Every up must have its down, it seems, and tonight was no exception. I was approached by a small group of ruffians. The details aren't important, arrogant bastards. I remember having been on the receiving end of worse back home and, er, elsewhere, but thinking back it feels like this was somehow more deliberate. They can't take the last week from me though, no matter how roughed up I ended up getting. They didn't even take my purse - probably just punks getting their rocks off being nasty little shits. I'm nursing a pretty swollen eye and some pretty bad bruises over my stomach and chest. While I protested that it could wait until the morning when I saw her in the lab, Wednesday was fairly adamant about seeing to and treating my little bumps and scrapes - In fact, she should be here shortly. Maybe she'll talk a little more about this car trip she's promised me then. "..The only scars I will allow are the ones I give you.." Sigh.. What a wonderful week. (7 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, April 3rd, 2006
6:06 am	Hmmph. Its been a little while since its been this quiet, the flurry of activity I had been whipped into made this quiet spell all the worse. I took down the clock and dumped the batteries just to stop it from filling the quiet den with its incessant ticking. Its my fault, though, I could put music on - but I dont want to. I'd just rather think about all the things I'm missing out on with the doctor out on vacation. Tuesday saw me scampering out after my work was done to my old school building. I could feel the hairs of my neck rising on the back of my neck as I passed the hallway I met her in that second time. The way I acted - horribly embarrasing. (Was I really that skittish? Am I still that way? Sheesh.) Mr. Puusa had asked to see me, and I was doing my best to hurry through the throngs of escaping students. While I used to scoot and dart around the clusters of students, I found out a neat trick. If I can make myself look important and busy enough its easy to plow right through. Holding my papers to my chest and huffing amidst exaggerated heel clicks on the ceramic flooring, they just parted like the red sea for me all the way to my former professors office. It left me feeling a little giddy. The satisfied smile I came in with didn't last very long, however. Mr. Puusa informed me that he had received a call from the immigration office. It seems that my transfer woulden't be as easy as I thought (stupid Laramie..) and that as I came in under his written advisement, I would have to stick in his department. Well, honestly, this was shattering. The cigar-chomping ragged dork let me inwardly panic a number of moments before informing me that all that would be required would be for me to work under him for five hours each week - and only until the end of the year when I could be permanently signed over to doctor Wednesday. What I don't understand is why the government office didn't call to tell -me- about it, but then it is the government I suppose. With the loss of more free time already dragging at my mood, I pretty well jogged my way home. The meeting had left me seriously late - I barely had time enough to feed my little babies. Their eight little limbs were tangling tentatively together when I arrived, before they both scooted under their own little rocks upon seeing mommy was home.. Er.. Anyways. Slipping into my best dress, I hurried off to the restaraunt I had been summoned to. "You're going where? With who?" I muttered in an absolutely miserable tone into my pasta. The doctor finally let me know what she was doing with her time off - abandoning me, it seems. She had bought a new car and planned to take it for a spin with her former assistant, about whom the only details I knew being from some of the other staff and the doctors own mouth - when she was tossing and turning in her sleep. (As yet another aside, I never thought being smothered in flesh and impressed upon while the person crushing the breath out of me moaned another persons name would ever manage to get that much of a rise out of me... Ahem.) So lets just say I was a little bitter at not being taken along. Wednesday made up for my silence thereafter by talking about the latest results from the first studies she has begun to let me have an active hand in, as well as reminding me of my duties when she was gone. Before I knew it, I was home. Wednesday redeemed the evening by seeing me off with a remarkably dizzying kiss. Maybe she knew it would make me feel guilty for being angry. I've also noticed the batteries on my journal-thing keep cutting out. I often come home to find they've been run dry even though I remember turning it off the day before. Maybe they're defective. Anyways. Time to turn in. There's a big day of sitting in the empty lab and lording over the horrible brain in a jar. At least without Wednesday's watchful eyes, I'll get a chance to snoop into those lower drawers.. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, March 23rd, 2006
5:42 am	The big dork. Its almost as amusing as it is pathetic how the best comebacks end up stewing and slowly become refined in my head long after their usefulness has passed. He wasn't right about any of it, and it was a violation of him to bring up the subject not once, but several times throughout the week. But I initially felt like being honest, and really couldn't manage more than an ever more annoyed sounding series of 'uh-huh' noises. I ranted quite well about it after, of course - just never when it counts. Doctor Wednesday even seemed vaguely impressed with the fervor I worked myself into before calming myself. I made it quite clear I did not with to interact with him in any fashion after the first time, but my passive aggressive methods only served as an invitation for him as an easy target. At least he seems to have gone AWOL for a while. I hear its not the first time, the flake. Thanks to him, no less, I've been given HIS work to do on top of mine. Sigh. But, looking over my piles of paperwork, stared down at beyond the glint of her glasses - its all worth it. The pretense of a professional relationship between the nights of closeness and the stern and lavish admonishments for when I make mistakes.. I wouldn't give it up for the world. The last time I showed up in the class the doctor teaches I was shot with just about every sort of look and glare imaginable. They seem to run the whole spectrum, especially from the more hormonal types that vie for position at the front. Jealous twits. And now the prospect of doing it until Laramie returns.. She's given me two projects, to 'acclimate to dealing with organic specimens.' Oh my god. Octopus. I thought she was teasing me at first after that horrible 'lesson' at the sushi place. But they are just so adorable, my babies, and she really is correct. They are so smart. I briefly considered naming them after ex-boyfriends of mine, but I would hate to be cruel to my happy little cephalopods. Now, the other thing.. Really, now. A brain in a jar? I definitely prefer my happy little octopuses. Its alive, in some fashion, and I'm to ensure it stays that way through proper care and handling. The way its lit from the base, greenish light cutting through the murky fluid the organ is suspended in. It looks like a cheap Science fiction movie prop. That she decided to preserve its.. Eyes. Is even more disturbing. I find I consistently have to jostle it around until its facing some way other than me when I arrive in the morning. After my initial reluctance, its actually really interesting.. But its STILL REALLY CREEPY!!! Dr. Puusa sent me a letter today. He wants me to meet him in his office next Tuesday. I'm pretty sure I didn't forget about anything, though apparently he has some business to discuss. Whatever - I'm supposed to go for dinner that night after my duties. I think I can fit it in. Bogart and Fairbanks? Tom and Jerry? Thelma and Louise? What do you think, diary? You -Know- she's going to ask me what I've named them. Hopefully she wont find my choices too corny. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, February 27th, 2006
8:55 am	What can I say? I don't think I've had a busier few weeks. I've been getting acquainted with the lab and my new duties, which for the moment seems no more grandiose than my cleaning and book keeping duties with Mr. Puusa. Doctor Wednesday is driven to introduce me to equipment and medical concepts (not to mention, ah, her unique methods of exploration) so far out of my element it summons forth as much overwhelming bewilderment now as when I was being pressed to retain everything I was presented on the spot. I have to work hard - I'm loathe to even think of letting her down. She must think me such a flake for how awkward I continue to be around her. Those eyes can see through any airs I try to put on, and she uses that destructive glance often. Pretending to be strong isn't going to work.. This checkerboard relation I've thrust myself into with my - mentor - (how exquisite it feels to even think...) all seems so calculated. She will be so warm and kind one day, cruelly capricious and short the next.. The depths only seems to enhance the heights of our affair. One long and sweaty night, after a long and satisfying digression from being introduced to some of my teachers favoured implements upon the examination table, I found myself continuing my 'familiarization' with those tools long hours after the doctor had told me to clean and left. There is something about the feel of cold metal that reminds me of those first encounters and makes me weak in the knees. I got it again when I put my hand to the wrought iron banister up to the front door of my building.. A dangerous association, if a satisfying one. Anyways! Mr. Puusa was pretty upset by the news of my transfer. I'm still not entirely sure why exactly he cares. As most of the paperwork was filed on my behalf he seems certain I'm being 'stolen' and has said something to the effect of getting me back. When he saw me come in to deliver my materials wearing the frock I had been fitted with just earlier in the day, I don't think I've seen him so livid. He'd always been so laid back - if a bit creepy towards me. I'm sure he'll get over it. The teachers assistant for Dr. Wednesday feels like he's looking to run me off. Laramie, I think. I'm not the best at gauging other people, but he seems a little too interested in my personal life and what has led to my current position. Rather able when it comes to getting under my skin. Maybe he's jealous? He at least offered to take my status updates to the immigration office after his probing, so that was nice enough of him. Later in the night I had an outing with the doctor to celebrate my position as her assistant. Alcohol hasn't touched my stomach since I was eighteen, and I certainly paid dearly for the indulgences Wednesday put me up for. While imbibing, I'm told, should clear up inhibitions, I found myself embarrassed about every event and misstep to a level of obnoxiousness I would be hard pressed to top. It was fun, if long. She can certainly handle her drink. I followed a trail of her clothing to my bedroom that night and slept under her arm. I was barely capable of the act of preparing breakfast the morning after, but somehow I managed. Either she was as hung over as me, or was simply too polite to mention I used completely inappropriate spices in the omelette's. Things are looking up.. I'm hard pressed to keep in mind that there is something more to this going on.. The feeling that I'm just eating out of her palm before the trap comes down (again.) But the experience is too much fulfilling, her presence just so compelling.. I cannot bear to break away. I'd best go before I'm late -- the doctor said she would treat me to sushi this week if I managed to memorize the names of the contents in first and second drawer. I'm not sure what kind of reward -that- is.... Oh, --- milk, eggs, spaghetti, bullion cubes, marshmallows, chocolates, bath bombs, spread, bread, detergent, white thread(extra buttons for frock), contacts fluid. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 8th, 2006
2:30 am	Remember when you fell off the second floor balcony at your best friends house (what was his name, Gary?) when you were - what - six? That horrible sinking feeling of tumbling through the air and the strange, buzzing detachment from your surroundings when you landed with a broken arm? Funny how after all these years it came back so strongly the moment I realized who was at the door. I could have hit her, too. There was the plastic bag with the new deadbolt hooked right beside my dads beaten up leather jacket. It just never occurred to me at the time. Would I, could I? I briefly wondered why she knocked, I had no idea. I hoarsely urged her away - I never have reclaimed a lot of volume in my voice. My hands quivering on the door, I remember I just kept pushing on it as though it would help any. How pathetic - I ended up opening the door. I was spiralling into a complete lack of control. Its not the first time I've been played. But I Felt like there was something there, beyond what it seems clear is going on. She even said she felt there was something else at work. She promised me to leave me alone. I could be free of this if I wanted to be. But that was the worst option. I felt my head spin, my eyes glazed over. As though never having to go through this again was a deeper torture than the one I'm already going through. I felt a deep panic then like I haven't since my breakdown years back. So yeah, obviously something very wrong here. I don't think I'm ever going to live down the way she touched my neck reminded me of mom. I broke apart as easily I used to - damn her. Crying my guts out with an audience. It was, however, almost as cathartic as it was devastating. She is in my dreams, occupying the margin doodles of my note papers. She was on my lips, just like in the apartment. As much as she hurt me the kiss healed, and I felt all the better for the horrible void she just wrenched in me being filled for those small moments of kindness. That sounds so weird. She may be sick, but I'm beginning to worry its infectious. I think I remember I've seen those eyes - that look before. I can't quite place where. Dr. Wednesday said she'd call on me. The phone rang. I said I'd be there. My choice. ---- Goodness. I even forgot to save this entry before I left. Never mind what I said before, anyways! I cancelled my checkup appointment with Dr. Lane and had a much.. ah. Better examination. It was so liberating when I finally began to feel like a girl, but I think this may have been one of the first glimmers of actually feeling like a -woman.- I think she was trying to keep my mind woozy with her tongue for whatever she was talking about. Maybe she's changed her mind - could she be smitten with me too? Or more probably just softening me up just to be cruel and horrid again to me later? Why don't I care? I can still feel the tingle of the stirrups on the bottoms of my feet, and the ache from the cramping that came of all the toe curling she elicited. Oh, god indeed. Apparently I'm quite intact and healthy, though she expressed some disapproval over the quality of what I'd had done. Dr. Sonso was a sweetie and professional and all, but really - he was the best I could afford at the time. The peculiar glances she gave to me made me think something else was up as well, furthered by the way she casually explained the functions of some of her equipment and what she actually does. The gadget freak out I had when I came here was one thing, but it was nothing compared to the major geeking out I was doing there. It certainly has a lot more panache than my psych courses. Which is why I found her offer so much more tempting. I'll have to think pretty hard about this. Though it feels more like I'm asking myself if I want to drown or not while I'm being pulled to the bottom of the sea with a steel anchor attached to my waist. Better late than never.. ###342i-DD-03 (Comment on this)
Thursday, February 2nd, 2006
7:42 am	Oh god, I'm so sore. It wasn't an apology AT ALL. That night in my house was just a ruse to get me back into her lab! I need to do something, to get away - press charges, whatever. I've worked so hard to get here and its all falling apart. Pick on the foolish little blue haired girl, its not a new dance - but nobody has ever played me so well. Fuck, I can't even type right now. -- After a few painkillers everything is a bit better. I shudder to think that for a few fleeting moments I considered downing the whole bottle. I'm still shaking but at least its helped my nerves calm a little. The building is empty, there is no one to call or write, so all I can do is put it into words nobody else will ever see. What would there be to say anyways? I'd just get clucked at, a sad nod and some thinly veiled 'I told you so's.' She did it to me again. Worse. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget it, so there isn't much point in reiterating many of the details. Again those eyes, that commanding tone dulled my will. Like a cow to the slaughter, I just sat there thinking I would be treated to another night like.. Then. When I started coming to my senses and realizing what was about to happen I was already hip deep in some sickos cold, hard medical fetish. the sensation of those.. Things. I can't put on my brassiere now without feeling the lingering, phantom pressure of those surgical clamps on my poor tits. My, dare I say it (or rather she did.. I couldn't disagree, that's what it is) obsession certainly has paid all the wrong kinds of dividends. How could they have someone like that working there? I think I may need to see a doctor because of this.. I mean, beyond my reaffirming self indulgences, I've never really.. You know, since my last surgery. No matter how many times I begged, whimpered and pleaded she didn't stop. She was so big, and if I'd known the sort of trouble I'd of gotten myself into here I'd of just asked him to remove everything and just sew me up into a nothing. Would that have even stopped her? Regardless, I don't think I was intended to receive something of that magnitude as vigorously, long and hard as I did. Best find someone to have it checked out.. If I can bear the added humiliation. It doesn't make sense, I'm certainly not that much of a looker, there are plenty of bodies to.. abuse there. Maybe its because I'm a foreigner here. I don't know. I've never cried so long and hard. In public, no less. Walling myself in here forever would be an infinitely preferable alternative to explaining why I burst through the halls in my swift egress, dichevelled with knees locked together clutching at my tear soaked face. After so much effort to get and keep myself under control.. Point well taken, I'm going to stay far far away. I'll have to change my locks, too.. That damned key card is just sitting there on the table still, too. Why can't I just throw it out and be done with it? (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, January 27th, 2006
1:57 am	Oh god, what a night. But more on that later.. Confusion abounds and for some reason I feel like pouring it into my journal again. Since my last.. Encounter I have been going about business as though in a trance. I've finally settled into behavioral psychology and finance. Mr. Puusa is an interesting character, to say the least. Like if you wrapped a throwback from the summer of love into a dechevelled tweed suit and told him to play the straight man. While I don't really consider my performance particularly above and beyond the rest of my group, he has asked me to to work as his assistant. It means more hours on campus, but really - I would just spend it brooding in my apartment anyways between infrequent attempts to go clubbing. Its not so bad and I'm making good money off the work. Mr. Puusa seems to spend more time talking with friends than actually developing his work - I presume, dwelling in his rather spacious office and smoking some of the most obnoxious smelling cigars I've ever had the displeasure of being around. Its tolerable, though it makes my head hurt and he also seems to have made the -same- mess every time I'm in there to sort things. I presume they're talking shop, but I seem to be very good at tuning it out - I can scarcely recall the specifics of what they natter on about or the content of the files and reports I'm always putting together if I try. Ugh - it makes my eyes glaze over just trying to think about it. Anyways, on to more of her. You know, Nicole, you sure do bumble into the strangest trysts. I guess that's why I'm writing this again - its absolutely bewildering and with all the things going on I want to be able to go through my own private thoughts and make sure my head is still screwed on right. She dropped by at my house. No knocking - she had the keys I'd left in my hastily abandoned bag accidentally left in her office. For some reason, as soon as the door latch clicked - I thought it would be her, though not for that reason. Clutching a sauce-dripping wooden spoon I turned - and sure enough, there she was, hips and shoulders nearly brushing both sides of the cramped foyer. I'm not a very tidy person by nature, but my small flat was an incredible mess from that horrible lingering apathy I'd been feeling ever since the first visit. A few disdainful remarks about the state of my room and she was on me. I pushed, urged her to leave. I believe I made vague threats to call the police or someone - I do drone on rather aimlessly in overwhelming situations. "You're mumbling, dear." Then she kissed me. I was stopped dead in my tracks, eyes so wide they could have fallen out. I think I even cried a little as our mouths pressed together, trembling arms brushing against those tremendous hips in an aborted attempt to touch, halted between the conflicting instinct to either press away or hug. She didn't say anything - apologizing for herself through actions. I was so confused and elated.. After the events of the last encounter, I still couldn't take my mind off her as much as I tried. I even snuck into their faculty Christmas party using Fredrick's pass (he was away on holidays with his family and wanted me to feed his.. Well, whatever it was. Never thanked me.) So here she was, giving me another chance. Maybe she felt bad? Maybe it was me - yes, it must have been me who was simply being too juvenile around her. When I kept my distance and tried to regain my dignity.. I don't know - now I'm simply rambling. But I don't want to forget how I feel now. Whatever the reasons, I was whisked off to my own bedroom. It seemed only natural I follow her lead, again, but as I was laid out I couldn't help but reach back this time. I've never been much interested in sex, even before, though it has on occasion been a bonding experience.. But never like this. The sight of her body sent as many thrills through me as did those piercing eyes. Her touch was determined and expert in the way it orchestrated sensations I've never felt before. I have no doubt the caterwauls she elicited from me woke everyone in the building. It sounds like a cliche until its happened to you.. She was, well.. She kindled something in me I'd never known. I want to touch those lips again, to have all my fears and anxieties laid to rest between the sheets like she did. Just as easily as she shattered me - she put me back together once more. She never gave a reason, what little was said is lost on me as I was none too coherent. It was wonderful. I wish I felt more fortified.. I want to drop by, say hello - perhaps ask for more? But above and beyond, I want to know its not just me that feels like I do. Oh dear.. Now its going to be on my mind again all night.. but.. What else is new? (Comment on this)
Thursday, December 1st, 2005
6:09 pm	I'm in bed. Curled up around my stuffed animals and discarded clothing. I haven't left the apartment today, nor will I tommarow. Maybe the weekend will dull how I feel at this moment, but I haven't slept a wink since I returned home yesterday evening... I think I need to get this out. Yesterday was the date indicated on the card I was sent. Naturally, I was foolish enough to go. The sun was already settling behind the medical research complex when I arrived. I was nervous beyond belief, as is par for the course with any sort of meeting. I did end up bringing chocolates in my bookbag, though I was sure to rough up the box with the planned pretense of simply having them 'on me.' I paced around at the enterance staring at my pocketwatch until it was time - I'd of course come way too early. With a little whimper I eventually mustered the courage to step inside the complex. I passed the public corridors and into the labs section. Showing security the card I was given resulted in me being buzzed through with terse directions. The door clicked closed behind me as I stared down the empty, sterile hall. What I thought the summons might be about and what I hoped it might be about were two entirely different things. I had to stifle a few nervous giggles as my mind wandered aimlessly as I stepped quickly through the halls. I comforted myself with benign and unlikely scenarios as I made my way towards the proper lab number. I pressed the call button beside the door and clasped my hands. In an antsy way I rocked on my heels, unable to stop fidgeting in some way until I was stopped dead in my tracks by the sliding metallic sound of the door latch being drawn open. She appeared out of the dark of the lab suddenly visible to me, her eyes surveying my form. Nervously I reminded her of my name and that I'd been called on. She nodded and ushered me inside. My bag was set down at her request, and I took a seat. It was not the sort of place I was expecting at all from a stuffy, detached research area. Obviously whatever work the doctor was involved in required patient participaction, given the examination tables and.. Well, there were a lot of rather frightening looking impliments. We talked a little. I can't even remember what about. I'd meant to ask her how she found out my real name, and what else she might know.. It never happened. The conversation went the way she chose. I do remember that it somehow turned to my.. Nature, and I felt compelled to answer every detail about what I had done and when.. I've never been so frank with anyone before. The way she looked at me was as intimidating and exhilerating as the first time we had run into each other. The tone of the conversation seemed to shift a little. I tensed, as though I could sense a change in the nature of our meeting. Wednesday stood over me and gave the closest thing to a smile I would see that night. She instructed me to undress. I bit my lip, but no protest came. I stripped throughout the fiercest blush of my life. What choked at my throat became less nervousness than outright fear. The tone of her voice, the manner in which she observed me was commanding and casual. It became very clear that I was there for her benefit. I was about to be screwed, and it felt as cold and impersonal as an examination. Indeed, as I was urged back on the slab fingers plied over my breasts. She fingered over the fur-covered lines of my scars. She knew exactly what to look for. The doctor gave a resigned nod and let me know that I would 'do.' I gasped and furrowed my brow. She didn't care. I sat up to fetch my discarded clothes. She pushed me back down. I didn't struggle. There was no momentous pause of shock or breathlessness as she revealed her cock to me. The best I could summon was a small amount of surprise and a lot more resignation as my thighs were urged apart and I slipped back onto the slab of my own accord. The doctor undid her labcoat, letting her enormous breasts smother my small swells in their far more natural feeling expanse. She never took those eyes off me, damn her. No amount of mussed aqua hair could protect me from that piercing, dead calm observing me as she pressed in. It hurt. I had never prepared myself for anything like what I found thrust inside of me. I could feel my body writhe and my fingers grasp at shoulders as I was kept pinned underneath those advances, stretched and fucked mercilessly. This wasn't at all like I had daydreamed it, and I can see how foolish it was to have thought anything so fanciful possible. I was not being made love to - it wasn't even sex. She was masturbating, and I was simply there to be used for that purpose. My body ached, responding to the urges I had, but they were completely irrelevant. It was pleasureful but for the dearth of meaning. I felt shattered. Time wore on. The doctor ran me ragged. I felt as though I must have passed out at some point or another, as I lost time and faded in and out of a buzzing, thoughtless blanket of shock. Sprawled out across the slab, I found myself momentarily alone. Breasts, nipples, belly and thighs, all covered in spunk, lubrication and other sharp smelling fluids. The doctor was changing her lab coat, and spoke again for the first time since being laid back for her pleasure. She ushered me into a prep room of sorts and instructed me to clean myself. I washed as best as I could, my hands shaking and breath ragged. I tingled all over and felt so detached as dried bits of spunk was sloughed off my fur. When I returned, arms crossed around my chest, I was given a very specific look. It was time for me to go home. I understood, of course, my bottom lip quivering as I quickly dressed. It had been a long time since I cried in anyone elses company, and I certainly didn't want to do so in front of the doctor. I couldent speak, no longer was I able to bear eye contact. My eyes were wet and bleary as I pulled my belt taut around the waist of my jacket. I could see her hands, going about cleaning up - straightening out what had been disordered, disposing of empty vials, not paying much attention. I stood stock still before I realized that was it. My boots drug on the floor as recollection of how to properly walk was slow to return to me. "I may drop by later." She said as I dismissed myself. I could feel my hands quivering on the cold metal latch of the exit door. A brief pause, and I was on my way. It was not until I reached home that I'd realized my book bag had been forgotten. An acceptable loss. I'm not sure if that really helped, typing about it. Perhaps it would have been better if it was blackmail instead.. I only would have lost money, at worst, then. Perhaps it had been so long without someone there for me that my mind had created a fairy tale image of what infatuation could be and lead to. What I got was cruel, cold, and destructive. An important lesson that should have been learned a long time ago.... ..So why can't I stop thinking about her even now? (Comment on this)
Saturday, November 19th, 2005
10:50 am	Ut oh. I think I'm going to save the worst for last, dear diary. Maybe if I dont write about it long enough it'll go away. I've replaced almost every electronic I brought with me. It seems like such a wasted trip, now, lugging all this stuff here only to buy brand new replacements in the end. I ended up spending a pretty penny on a new personal workstation, a PDA, cellphone (which begs the question - who in the world am I going to call with this thing?), television and ah.. Something innocent called a 'Personal assistant.' Don't ask. They had these camera things made into shirt buttons one could sew on, and all sorts of rather dubious surveillance stuff at this one store in the back of the shopping centre I went into. I'm glad I wasn't wearing a skirt when I came in. Jonesing for the one or two friends I left behind at home still. Even though I'd shut myself away enough that, really, I cant think of anything in specific I actually -miss- about it, it still vexes me. Perhaps if they want I'll invite some over here, pay for their ticket. Its not as though its going to break the bank for me -now-. Anyways, onto the bad (??) stuff. My heart is absolutely pounding. I received a letter in the mail, no return address. It didn't need one. Inside the envelope was a business card. "Dr. H. Wednesday" and the location of one of the labs deep in the medical research complex. On the back was a date and time, and it read out that I would 'Meet her here.' The worst part is she used my name - not the name I used for school, my *real* surname - not even the immigration folks know it. I don't know how she found out, maybe she is trying to blackmail me? I don't think so, though, given what she said to me. She seems to be under the impression I'm preoccupied with her.. And I think she is right about that much. In regards to my 'obsession,' the 'apology' didn't help, and having a second run in only made things worse. I think I'm going to go. I mean, its one of the labs, right? Its going to be pretty public. I'm sure I'm just going to be scolded or something.. I'm not sure what I can do, other than say sorry some more? In any case, I need to calm myself down and take a bath. As obnoxiously anxious I am about actually going, I think I would be worse off if I didnt go and she reported me or something. Can't quite seem to stop visualizing those eyes, especially... Maybe I should bring chocolates.. Who am I kidding. Well, besides myself anyways. (Comment on this)
Saturday, November 12th, 2005
8:07 am	Its always the Fridays.. Because I clearly don't already have enough drama in my life, I had to perpetuate some more for myself it seems. I think, however, the matter is resolved! Even if I proved myself a spaz in the process. This Friday while taking a shortcut to registration - by which I mean I got lost, of course. I was trudging rather heavily down one nearly empty hallway when I saw it. It was the woman I accidentally prodded with my housekeys. Thankfully, she seemed preoccupied with something so didnt see me almost lose balance and careen myself into another corridor. I hope that area doesn't have security cameras, because I would have come off like a nut I'm sure. While those bootclicks resonated down the hall I sort of bit my fist and paced towards the exit and back towards the hallway. It would be polite to apologize properly, of course, but what if she was still angry? I would be devastated to only further embarass myself, but I finally steeled myself and turned back around the corner. I spent enough time vexing over this that when I wheeled about the corner I nearly bumped into her again. Smoothe moove, Nicole. I didn't seem to startle her any, which was somehow even more unnerving than managing to give yet another unwelcome surprise. "Hello." "Hi." What followed next was not one of my most graceful moments. I did manage to stammer out something of an apology, although it may have sounded odd all coming out in one breath. I told her I was new and a bit clumsy, of course. I sort of rambled a bit after introducing myself until ran out of topics and breath. As I was occupied pulling air back into my lungs she gave the faintest of nods and some words of wisdom - and was on her way. So, theres that off my mind at least. The rest of the day went smoothely. It does indeed seem she works somewhere on site here. Maybe in Science or Med, from the look of it? Regardless, I hope I didn't come off as entirely obnoxious. I'm not sure why, as I should be considering it over and done with. Anyways! Time for pancakes. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, November 9th, 2005
9:36 pm	Quiet night Well, don't I feel like a country bumpkin. Seriously, this place gets more and more overwhelming every day - I fear for when I actually am expected to start taking in some of it in school. I seem to have arrived on the razor edge of technology and its applications. There are gizmo's here that I had only -heard- briefly mentioned as flights of fancy or in early development, all in use right here and now. It is most likely going to reignite my technophilia in a serious way. For example. I went to the government office here to make certain all my paperwork was in order. It was, though what I had and was told to keep on me was torn up promptly and I was asked to submit to having the proper identification inserted into my person. Are not civilized societies supposed to be shocked and appalled at the idea of being tracked day to day by ones government? I didn't seem to mind being tagged like cattle. So now instead of visa papers, I have a small and scan-able device in the meat of my palm somewhere. I find it enormously exhilarating to know its there, if a bit strange. I fear for what this may mean in my upcoming classes, I presume I will have a lot of catching up to do. As expected, I got hopelessly lost on campus, and being the sort of person I am was much too embarrassed to do the proper thing and ask for directions. I did eventually find a map, however, or rather it found me. Perhaps that is best left unexplained - but I did find the office and perhaps a new friend before too long. The sum of the adventure can easily be passed off as 'scouting the location.' I suppose. The bank was amusing. I was rather hoping to get a reaction, too, and they did not disappoint. The manager appeared rather surly as I promptly asked for him. We went into the back office, and I explained I needed to move my savings to his institution. Of course, this was old hat to him - why should he need to do it, right? I might have appeared to have taken a sledgehammer to his chest when he found out the sum of what I would be transferring. It was certainly nothing that he would have expected to just walk in the door with no warning, I suppose. They were -very- nice to me after that point, I even got to keep the security guards jacket and hat when I mentioned I adored them. Thats about everything. I know I'm forgetting some sort of service I'll be needing here locally, but until they become necessary I'm not sure I'll remember what they are. I might take to the mall to see what sort of electronic marvels may be had. Surprisingly, with the level of technology saturated into day to day living here there is a relieving lack of useless, commercially driven gadgetry. Its there, but nothing quite as obscenely reaching as the four in one toaster egg slicer or network equipped toaster oven. (Comment on this)
Monday, November 7th, 2005
7:39 am	Typical twenty-something brooding, volume one. What is it about my moods? I can be happy as a clam one second, then spiral out of control to the other extreme in mere moments. It takes the smallest thing, too. Perhaps it was better when I used to lock everything up in myself and pretend I was a robot. I imagined I was going to get away from all this, start fresh and leave all the complication behind. It seems its not so easy to shed after all. Anyways, I'm not going to pool in angst all night. I still feel exhausted, and maybe a little afraid after the exhileration of being in such a new place wore off. Its a lot different down here, I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to strut around in my heavier jackets as I'd like. The climate is a lot warmer. This place doesnt feel quite like home, and is frankly a bit uncomfortable, regardless whether or not I've moved my stuff in or not. Perhaps I'm a little lonely, but what else is new? Going to try my best to make a few friends, and I know how akward -that- can be. I already felt a little shunned earlier last night when I tried to strike up a chat with some unfriendly neighbours. Was it the uniform? I dont really know anybody here except for Samantha - and I dont really know her past the phone calls and e-mails we've shared. She is nice and all, but I haven't found a common ground with her. Its all business and empty chat, really. But - here I go, anyways. I have an appointment with the bank to set up a proper account here, and then its to the campus to file some paperwork. I'm going over the pamphlets and maps - this place is huge! Knowing me, I'm bound to get hopelessly lost. I'll have to make a mental note to check the bulletin board, see where the local swings are here. Not that I'll be brave enough to attend, but the thought is nice. (Comment on this)
Sunday, November 6th, 2005
3:14 pm	Wow! I'm so tired. Ugh. Even though I culled just about everything I didn't think I'd need, there was still much too much stuff to heft. I knew I was in trouble when I had to rent out a trailer for it all, I'm far too much of a packrat for my own good. Who needs antiques in their home for a school year? Why I do, thank you very much. Samantha was there to greet me and gave me the keys to the place. Its pretty roomy, I got the biggest out of the way space up on the top floor. The key words are top floor. Never again, will I move my mattress by myself up two flights of stairs. I think I'm going to get a futon or something. Met some rather cute young gentlemen who were only too happy to assist with most of the things I would let them. It makes me blush - they actually gave me their numbers. No questioning stares or anything. I think moving here for schooling is going to work out very nicely! But, oh gosh. I ran into someone who is apparently part of the campus by accident and made a total arse of myself already. I got rightly chewed out - I was mortified! Okay, so I was coming up the stairs with the groceries and absolutely wracked - I'd planned to just stuff the whole bag into the fridge and pass out on my bed. I'd gone up those stairs and unlocked the door about a thousand times previous, so it was all pretty automatic. So I have my nose buried in my groceries and reach out with the keys, and instead of fumbling it into the tumblers? I find myself prodding someones chest. I keyed someones breast. Sure, I can giggle now. And these weren't little things like I have, oh gosh. I dont think my eyes could have gone any wider without falling right out of their sockets. All I could really do was mumble a string of apologies into my containers of ramen. I'd never seen someone like her before.. She looked amazing - and those eyes just sort of burned right through me. I related the story to Samantha, and she seemed worried but didn't have to have much to say. Maybe this individual holds a grudge easily? Oh well. I'll apologize again if I should encounter them again. Well, time to finish unpacking. I have a lot of things to do to get ready. (Comment on this)