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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2123224-Nurse-Julian
Rated: 18+ · Novel · Teen · #2123224
Julian is put into a tough predicament with a self destructive mother & a crazy father.
WRITTEN BY: LADYSRA

Copyright 2014 All Rights Reserved

Nurse Julian Written By LadySra

Warning: This book contains mature content.

NJ Story Description -

(Nurse Julian) - Vol. 1

Nurse Julian here! Nurse Julian here! I was hopeless, lazy, jobless, and I only had a love for makeup... not nursing. I couldn't get into a cosmetology major because Mother wouldn't let me! I have just finished nursing school and now I'm forced to get a job nursing in a mental institution!

Ms. Julian Claire has been put into a tough predicament with her self destructive mother, and her loony bin father who she has never met. She is in a situation where she has to put her dreams to the side and work her way up to success in a mental institution that her father was once in.

Will she listen to her mother's demanding ways of becoming Nurse Julian?

Or will she try to pick up the pieces of the broken dream that her mother pushed away from her.

© Copyright All work is property of LadySra any duplication or reproduction of all or part of the work without explicit permission by the author is illegal.

All RIGHTS RESERVED, this story is completely mine so please DO NOT claim that this is your story because it is not. All Rights are Reserved to LadySra and I have the right to Pursue action against those that infringe upon my rights.

No part of this publication maybe reproduced, or transmitted in an form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. All Rights Reserved.

Enjoy sweets.

•°µĵ°•½




Excuse me, Nurse?
Diary Entry I

I've noticed the sick reality my mother Beatrice and I had to face. The fact that she's also called the desperate promiscuous woman, and I-the so called 'classy' whore. Doesn't matter where we are or where we go, we will be judged, or 'slut slammed'.

People judge us everywhere. I mean hell, I judge people too, but I keep it hidden in my mind and behind my eyes by putting a bright smile on my face once I see the person. I wouldn't want them to think I give them judgmental eyes or a certain type of face.

I don't like speaking my thoughts so no one understands.

I'm not one for deliberately making someone angry or hate me. I love seeing drama going around me, but I don't like it being directed at me. This is how the popular kids lured me in. They lured me into their black alley way of things that destroyed your body but still made you feel quite superior. They made me level up to the top of the pyramid in our high school.

When I got to college, the cool kids and I stuck together like pieces of gum. All of us wanting the same dream in cosmetology, but never getting it as our birth parents took away our simple dream.

They wanted our group to be perfect by forcing us to pick up things such as a science major, business, and medicine. Sure those are successful places in life, but they weren't our dreams unfortunately.

The popular kids wanted to meet my mother so badly, since I met their parents and family members. We'd have celebrations, ones where I would never include my promiscuous mother Beatrice. We'd sneak away from the crowd-drinking rum and ice cold tequila. We told each other secrets in a circle but when it became my turn I was very vague.

I could tell the popular kids wanted to know everything about me. I mean they invited me into their group, they brought my social status up. They wonder why a pretty girl like me loved to get drunk, sleep with lots of men, and do as many drugs as she can-and still be so quiet. I didn't speak at all before I met them. I still don't speak though but Cleo makes me. She says princesses always speak in the movies, especially the 'blonde' ones.

Cleo and Phoebe were whores, like me. Phoebe called us classy whores because we slept with a lot of single men in high school. But when any kind of rumors started to spread we would deny, deny, deny. We answer to anyone, whoever we slept with was between us and the men we shagged.

Cleo believed in fairy tales, she's always talking about Shakespeare and Disney related things. She loved the tooth fairy and she'd drag me and Phoebe with her to see old Broadway plays we didn't even know existed. The latest one we saw was "Cry Baby."

There's times when I listened to her words and wondered how she became so fucked up, but I understood with the story of her crazy strict religious family. Cleo never did like church and her family wants her to be an English professor.

Phoebe's the one who loved to invite us to parties, formal business events her family had, weddings, and things with famous people.

At one of these events I heard Drake was there and she tried to shag him. I didn't know what really happened because I was looking through people's jacket to find spliff and when I did, I was gone throughout the whole event. By the time I found out I'm tripping-completely in a stupor, and I heard her parents were completely embarrassed of her.

Phoebe parents want her to major in business doing stock marketing. Her mom does business in the stock market and her dad works in the music industry.

Her parents are always away on business trips, and when they were here all they do is argue. Phoebe told me that she's always stuck in the middle, and when Cleo's parents came to meet hers-they practically eye fucked each other. She thinks their having a four-some, and Cleo might as well be her half-sister.

Phoebe's mom eye fucked Cleo's dad. Cleo's mom eye fucked Phoebe's dad. The father's returned the same gesture so the feeling's mutual I guess...

Phoebe claimed that when they got back from the business trips, they never paid her no mind. They ignored her and worried about the house and work. They would go shopping, only to bring Phoebe home with business attire.

She told me she got angry, so she started fucking shit up. She wrecked places with the parties she hosted. She made a mess of her house, every room except for hers-which made her parents furious. She acts like the whore she is in front of them and she loves it.

Phoebe caused drama-hiding in the shadows when she's done. Cleo and I were the only ones she trusted to know about her deliberate causes of drama.

Maluca, Seb, and Ezra were like us too. The three sisters, the three musketeers, only this time it was boy-girl-boy, and mine was three girls straight.

Maluca and Ezra annoyed me. Maluca had a suicidal mother and overly drunk father. He gave her mother too much kids and the doctor told her not to have any more kids. So now the mom has to run away from the father's wrath before he forces himself on her.

Maluca didn't like going home. She asked to stay at my place but I said no, it could never happen. So I told her my house was too full. Which is true because two bedrooms are occupied by my mother and me, and the couch well...

Let's just say it smells of semen, and my OCD self doesn't want to touch or go near it.

She said her dad came home drunk, attacks her and her siblings. He broke the plates and smashed family photos.

One time we were sitting on the parks bench together to have a talk, and her tears said it all: That moment when you feel like home isn't home at all.

Maluca took the science major in college to find a cure for her mother's suicidal ways. I think the cure is getting rid of her father.

Ezra only had a mother who worked him out like a slave, like Cinderella with no happy ending.

Ezra majored in education...

Ezra and Maluca annoyed me because they told me about their love lives like I care. I don't know what it is about me, but people have a knack for sitting down and telling me everything about themselves like I want to know their whole life story.

I don't!

I'm too quiet, wear too much fancy clothes. Maybe I smile too much? I think it's the blonde hair. It gets tiring listening to everyone's problems so I write it down here.

Seb, don't know much about him. Like me he is reserved and vague-I respect that. All I know is, his parents think he is a waste of space and he's cocky. Sometimes when he's around me he's shows his sad side, and looks at me as if I know everything.

I don't, but I got a good guess on why he is so sad. He took the business major in college, he's going to become an entrepreneur. Follow his parent's dream and not his.

These were the cool kids who I hanged out with in high school, and they're not perfect.

NOT PERF!

They never judged me, but I knew they'd judge my mother.

So I kept her right in our little apartment. Vague so nobody has to know.




The Letter of My Breakthrough, My Disorder-The OC
Diary Entry III

Only Cleo and Phoebe found out about my OCD. They tried to ask questions, but I always dodged them. Just because all six of us tell each other secrets, doesn't mean that we have to tell our deepest ones.

Ok let's get this straight: What is a disorder?

A disturbance of the regular and normal functions. It may be random like a sudden occurrence of a disease. Irregular and sometimes mental. An occurrence of meltdowns might happen.

What is an OCD?

People double check a lot, but not many people get the full meaning. The upsetting thoughts and obsessions. There's medication for it but I don't like to take it.

I can't take the risk of being an addict like Beatrice. I'm already self-destructive, a war goes on in my head. I have no mouth, but I've got quite the loud mind. Most people don't know what an OCD is! They think it's only got to do with cleaning.

You're wrong, it's everything bitch.

It makes me crazy. Beatrice here wanted to put me in a mental institution. Although she said we don't have that kind of money to waste on me. I think it would've been fun with all the nurses dosing me up with different kinds of drugs.

It's mental and you can't get by without the freaking checks.

I don't think Cleo and Phoebe are aware of what an OCD is.

The obsessive compulsive disorder. An anxiety disorder. The repeated thoughts over and over again-they're unwanted, especially from me. My behavior is laced in compulsion. I am driven to do something, feeling the sensations. Obsessions in feelings and ideas.

Beatrice made it all worse. Putting me into medicine, medical, nursing school-this woman is crazy. She must be because even I'm made a little crazy-not normal.

The mental illness of obsession, compulsion, discordance. I won't listen, my body won't listen, and even my breakdowns are out of control.

This thing is mental, not I, but its inside and no one will help. A different person inside me-her name is Julio instead of Julian.

Get out, get out of me!

I've become a different person. Starting to abuse my own mother, I've turned into my father-only she's the one who started this. Once again, mother Beatrice starts an unknown conflict inside of my poor head.

Nursing will kill me. CLEANING too much will kill me.

I need to get out, but I don't think anyone is willing to help me-not even those popular kids. Cool kids that'll probably watch me shiver into dust, leaving me right there.

P.S. I have withdrawals. So don't make me a nurse because I can't possibly do it. I've only gotten worse since college, and it might start to show in front of my friends.



Meltdowns
Diary Entry IV

During my sick apartment life with my mother Beatrice, I did appear to have some meltdowns which were also breakdowns.

The first meltdown I had wasn't so bad because my OCD did not start acting up yet. The first meltdown started when I realized Beatrice started bringing so many men into our home every night. Dragging them upstairs to do their business, the bed would rock and the ceiling creaked repeatedly.

I wanted to scream at her in the kitchen one day when she told me she invited three men over. Three men that would feast upon her upstairs and make a big racket.

She claimed that I should be happy for her, but I growled in frustration instead of obediently agreeing with her.

So when she turned her back on me-trying to end the unfinished argument, I threw a plate straight at her back. I called her a man eater as the plate broke into pieces whilst shattering to the ground.

She turned around to face me, her eyes and mouth fixed up in horror. She unconsciously backed away from me as I picked up her cheap bottle of wine-attempting to smash it into her face. Then her face would appear ugly and smeared up in blood because I'd cause that.

But that never happened, because she ran up the upstairs in fear.

I think its anger issues and not my disorder, or maybe its revenge. Revenge for how she used to abuse me as a child growing up. She never liked me when I was younger-as I am known as the mistake she and my father created. This is exactly how I felt-like she never loved me, not once. So it was just years of built up anger she caused. Another person inside me, a person like Julio came out as a sort of meltdown.

The second meltdown started when she put me into all of these school activities of which I never wanted to join in the first place. Although I hated her for this, these activities did cause my popularity status to rise up because I met more people and it helped me meet the popular kids.

In the fall I attended volley ball. During the winter I was welcomed with ballet. Spring time, she made me join the softball team. Lastly, I'm forced to join the swimming team for the summer.

She came home one day with all of these uniforms for volley ball, ballet, softball, and swimming. Instead of thanking her for bringing my popularity status up, I took the shopping bags, and in raw anger I smacked her with them.

In return, she did nothing but let herself run away in fear again, by tripping on some of the bags and trying to run up the stairs. No sorry, crawled up the stairs. And while she pathetically tried to crawl up these stairs, I threw all of the sports uniforms at her. Ripping them out of the shopping bags like it was complete shit.

I helplessly tried to rip the swimming goggles apart, but they wouldn't budge.

I couldn't figure out why she suddenly started to act so desperate. Desperate enough to try and approach me with this. She hates me, and now she's trying to mind fuck me.

The third and last meltdown, for now I guess... happened during my last year of high school. Senior year was the best year for me, and I think it was for everyone else too. We were finally leaving and becoming adults-leaving the world of where adults towered over us and us helpless drug addicts. The teasing about our useless acid parties and teenage hormones were finally over.

No one asked about why I was such a quiet girl. My status was up on the schools pyramid as the cool kids invited me to every party I could manage to sneak out of the apartments for. We were living it to the fullest-to at least try and have good times together because were leaving our high school friends, or anyone who managed to come close to our untouchable circle.

We were the cool kids and we planned to stay that way, well I didn't plan that-they did of course. I wanted to get the fuck out of Long Island. Although it seemed like my quiet plan to escape Long Island could probably never happen.

The cool kids wanted us to go to the same college together like old times. Their parents were taking away their dreams so what else could they do? Hang out and have fun while it lasted, I guess right?

I didn't even think-no hold up-I didn't even KNOW that my sleazy mother had ended up falling into the same category as THEM. And by THEM I mean the cool kids parents.

I came home straight from school. It was a free day: meaning no parties, no Maluca and Ezra drama, no sad Seb, no Cleo and Phoebe shopping, and no parties hosted by Phoebe.

CORRECTION: It's a boring evening.

Beatrice came home extra early this evening and she watched me-eyes filled with intent.

I flinched hard as the entrance door slammed by being released from her clutches. I didn't look back at her, I kept my eyes away from her nosey ones. Since I'm scrubbing up her kitchen. She left a mess in the kitchen, and I'm the only one left here to scrub up the stickiness she left behind on the counter from using too much syrup.

Syrup like always, she abused the butter flavored syrup-spilling some on the counter whilst drowning her waffles in it. She left sticky droplets and I twitched every time she did. The only solution to get by-is getting a new fresh clean rag and scrubbing it off the counter. I usually had to do this for her all the time, it was like a daily routine for me in the week sometimes. This annoyed me though, because when I didn't have a syrup for her, she'd run to the I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!

"Julian dear?" She called out and I rolled my eyes. Something was up, she never really called out my name in that kind of way-unless she was scared of my response to what she wanted from me.

"Yes Beatrice, I'm sure you saw me moments ago," I said.

"Well yes," she admitted and made her way into the kitchen. She was probably back from one of her sex escapades. She seems to be in an awfully good mood.

"I have a proposition for you. Well a surprise actually," she said and I could hear the smile in her voice. I finished scrubbing off the counter. "What?" I asked, I didn't like surprises, especially coming from her. Surprises could set me off, create a meltdown, and that's one thing I warned the popular kids about. After that discussion, they stopped asking me questions about my vague self.

"I set you up for your plans during college!" She chirped. I flared my nose and took in a calm breath of air. "What?" I asked again. I wanted to get out of Long Island-not stay here in its hot sunny pit.

"Honey, you're going to nursing school!" She smiled up at me, dimples present while I simply glared in return.

I never knew, I never fucking knew.

"What the fuck are you on about?" I barked out in question and she flinched back in surprise. She asked, "Isn't this what you wanted?"

I threw the dirty syrup rag into the kitchen sink, then I turned around and narrowed my eyes at her. "It's not what I want," I snarled and pointed a finger at her, "it's what you want!"

"But you love to clean-"

"That's my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder mother!" I screamed, cutting her off in the process. She looked away from me, turning her head to the left. She exclaimed, "It only makes sense for you to join nursing. I'm doing this for you to get better. I don't have the money to look into your mental illness, but you can. By being a nurse you'll learn more about your disorder."

I smacked my hand on the kitchen counter loudly. "Look at me," I said lowly to her. She still had her head turned away from me though, ignoring my request and gaze.

"Look at me!" I yelled and she jumped back slightly frightened from my voice change. I took that as an invitation to slowly approach her even more. "You aren't doing this for me you man-eating bitch, you're doing this for yourself." I towered over her like a bully ready to slam its prey. So I shoved her against the wall hard and she yelped.

"Since my father took away your dream-now you're trying to take away mines. He made you have a child," I snorted as a quick image of me as a child popped into my head, "must've messed up some big plans for you huh?"

She trembled and in anger she spat out, "You're just like him, evil like the devil."

My eyebrows almost furrowed at her remark, but then I just sent her a smirk instead.

"I'm glad I'm like him in that department because I know you." I slammed her against the kitchen wall. "I know your sick little schemes Beatrice. I know you're not the innocent girl you used to be. You're just the old man-eating sleazy promiscuous Beatrice. The exact woman who wants to steal all the money I'll probably gain from nursing. The woman who's excited for me to find a good doctor so that she can get high off of my OCD pills."

I backed up slightly from her and let out an empty laugh. My eyes glowered towards hers as soon as the laugh ended. She was on her toes again-watching me keenly.

She wasn't fooling anyone though. I saw the fear in her eyes-she's scared that I'm similar to those kids on the news that kill their birth parents.

Am I though, am I capable of killing Beatrice? Maybe.

"You're both the same, you and your father. Loony bins and mental disorders. The only similarity I have from you two is my self-destruction. Everything else is different between us!" She yelled suddenly.

I tapped my right hands knuckles on my forehead like I was thinking, shaking my blonde locks from side to side. I planted my middle finger on my mother's long nose.

"See that's where you're wrong mother," I said whilst staring at her with my supposedly crazy dark blue eyes. "We're all the same," I leaned into her face as I said this, "this little family trio we got going on here, is real. There's only one person missing and that's father."

"Stop it!" She warned with sharp glassy eyes. "You know exactly why he's not here." She squeezed her eyes together, clenching them like they could possibly comfort her. Oh poor baby. I gagged.

"He...he..." She started to quietly sob.

I rolled my eyes at her fake mourning and said, "Sorry to interrupt the start of your sob story, which you put on repeat like always-and your nasty tear duct explosion." I glared at her and asked, "Beatrice have you ever met any of my friends parents yet?"

She blinked twice, "No I haven't." She answered and then pursed her lips at me, "You wouldn't let me meet your special friends or their parents. You said I was an embarrassment-"

"Which you very much are," I interrupted, but nodded for her to go on.

"You've only showed me pictures of them," She shrugged. I nodded, that's how it's supposed to be, always.

"You're such a control and clean freak! Sometimes I wish I could just leave your ass," she sneered.

Ouch, that hit a nerve.

So I punched her lights out as a reply, knocked her straight out to the ground. Blood running out her long nose like cars driving out of a tunnel. The blood ran right down to her wide plump pink lips. Her long curly black hair went all over the place.

I just knocked my mother's lights out, and didn't feel a damn thing about it.

So I quietly stepped over her unconscious tatted up body and pulled out my cell. Grabbing my sun hat and beige shades, I left my apartment and called Seb.



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