I watch the clock in the (almost empty) waiting room as it strikes 9pm. I heave a frustrated sigh and let my head fall back against the wall. I am waiting for my mother you see, as she had promised that we should have dinner together tonight. And as she had put it earlier"you know, just us girls!" her overexited features practically jumping at me over the phone. Not that I hate my mother or anything, but the word "overbearing" comes to mind…

Oh yeah, my name is Lydia by the way. I'm a college freshman, and have been described by my friends as "the wicked spawn of luna lovegood and pee wee herman". But what do they know…

I've become so desperatly bored that I've picked up my human anatomy text book to try and do some of my homework for "the human mind and body" course I'm taking at the local miskatonic university. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna fail. not that I don't find it interesting, but because of a small "accident" at the beginning of term (involving me, a bitchy chick and a stairwell) which ended in a concussion and a few broken bones and me missing alot of lessons. Which made me fall behind, ALOT. Oh, and the bitchy chick kind of almost died but that's not important.

I look towards the hallway where I had last seen her, but no . Now, I know that doctors are busy people and I totally respect that, but if you're three hours late you could at least have someone tell your offspring that they should probably go home instead of rotting away in a waiting room for god knows how long. I start pouting a little and begin to shuffle my converse clad feet from side to side, making them dance like puppets. My shoes are never the same color, and today there's one purple shoe and one green. After a short while of playing with my feet, I get bored and once again lift my face to glance at the clock. Still bloody damn 9 fucking pm. Ok, that's it. THAT is IT!

I get up from where I'm sitting and I march right up to the reception desk intending on giving the desk lady a message to my "dear "ol mum that THIS ol beanbag aint waiting any longer, and is gonna go home now with what little shred of dignity she has left. But maybe I wont refer to myself as a beanbag though. But just when I've brought up my hand in a very outraged manner and opened my mouth to deliver the message, some guy comes from out of nowhere and steals my shining moment. WHO does he think he IS? Talking to the reception lady first, like he has the privilege? UGH! But then I notice that he has a nice bum and suddenly I don't mind so much, mmhmmm.

After giving the desk lady my message, I sling my old spiderman schoolbag over one shoulder and fully intend on heading home. I'm thinking noodles for dinner, and a million butter fingers for dessert. Or hell, maybe just butterfingers. It's been a bad day after all, and it's not like my metabolism can't handle the challenge. Oh yeah, it's gonna rock.

But just as I'm about to press the button for the main floor in the elevator, somebody rushes in and presses a sublevel button before me. I turn to the person to give him my best impression of "horrendously offended" complete with sound, when I notice how serious this guy looks. The fact that he has brought in a covered operating table with the shape of a person under it kind of explains it. Hmmm, it IS a long way down I notice…long enough to cause an uncomfortable silence. I stare dumbly at the covered shape on the table, then slowly I look up at him. Yes it is a "he". He doesn't seem all that bothered by the silence, and stares straight ahead. But then he notices me staring at him, and he shifts around a little and makes a coughing noise. I decide to break the silence, time to show what a brilliant gal I am.

I point to the covered lump and say:

" that looks serious."

In which he turns to give me a "what are you, a retard?" look and says "Well yes, he is dead."

Now I feel I need to say something deep in contrast to what a blunder I made, so I nod and say very seriously:

"well life has you by the balls, and one day they just get crushed."

The guy gives me a wide eyed stare with a shocked lock on his face. I just kind of shrug and smile sheepishly. Oh yeah, I own the conversational skill department. The doors ping, signaling that we've arrived to a new floor and the man promtly turns his head and pushes the cart out the doors and dissappears.

Maybe you've noticed, but I am a little cracked. HAHAH okay I'm very cracked, bonkers even. But meh, who cares. As I walk home I start skipping, thinking of all the lovely homework I have left to do when I get to the dorm. I have an invisible roommate, who's always away partying and what not. But all the better, I say! Otherwise I would never be able to have all those gore movie marathons with Krista. She's also a bit of an oddball like me, only she likes to hide it from time to time. But soon as I'm around, she's as loopy as a fruit loop. Once we went to a halloween party together as siamese twins, complete with our hair braided together.

As soon as I get home I throw the homework aside and dive into my large couch and sigh heavily. Some of my blonde hair falls into my eyes, but I'm too lazy at the moment to brush it away. I lay sprawled there for awhile, and I decide then and there that if I don't want to fail this class I better get a tutor. Fast.

Only problem is, since I somehow seem to repel most people I meet it might be a little differcult to find a willing victim. That is a tough nut to crack, I tell ya.

Today, I woke up to a blessing. All classes today had been canceled. Which meant that I slept in until it was way past noon. .sweet!

But I still have an important mission I need to fulfill before the day is over, that is I need to find me a tutor. I even have enough money to be able to pay him/her too, so I do have that on my side. Yes, I have a good feeling about this! I mean, a university FULL of eager,smart students, low in cash would practically DIE for an oppertunity like this one right?

Okay, so maybe theyre not as eager as I had hoped….but that doesn't mean that it's hopeless right?

After 3 agonizing hours of searching for a willing teacher/tutorer I have come up with nothing but sore feet and a hungry stomach. It are times like this when it sucks to have a reputation hanging over your head, specially if it's a bad one. Some people I asked just looked at me as if I was going to rip off their heads or something, while others just sneered. I even tried asking krista, but she just laughed at me (but that's because she's as clueless when it comes to studying as I am). Ok, if nobody at the university can help me I'll have to look elsewhere. But where could I find….

Suddenly I figure it out, and I start laughing as I do. Ofcourse!

The miscatonic med school! Everyone knows that med students are starving packs of brains just dying for a student of their own to squeese money out of and teach them about fungus and liver descieses! I start to laugh even more, because this is the most brilliant idea I've had since I decided to dye principal Meltinpot's hair bright blue while he slept. I laugh all the way to the miskatonic hosp. And I don't stop until I reach the big front doors. Then finally I stop, because my throat is well, sore.

It's nothing new to see me hanging around here at the hospital, since my mother has worked here as a surgeon ever since I was six. I didn't go to any after school day care activities either, so this place became my personal playground. If the children's entertainer was called in sick, I was there to step in with my dirty jokes and juggling. I rode the elevator a million times, or just pushed all the buttons if somebody stepped in. I played various pranks on the students, involving everything from fake body parts to water balloons filled with saliva. Yeah, I was not exactly 100% angel cake while growing up. But that has changed, now I'm a very nice girl! Yep, gentle ,kind and sweet as a lamb! Saint o Lyda, that's me!

Except whenever I talk/look at/ being talked back to by Dr. Hill.

See, he never took a liking to me at all and I certainly never became very fond of him. Why you ask? Well, I guess it must have started when he thought it an appropriate punishment to spank me when I had (accidentally mind you) spillt red ink all over his work papers. I didn't even mean it as a prank at that time, and WHAT do I get? ASSAULT! Of course mom wasn't too happy about that either, but since he is her superior there wasn't much to do about it. Yep, him and I =enemies 4 EVAH

Plus he always give me the creeps, like he's hiding something really sinister in that bloated head of his. Ugh!

I went by the cafeteria and snatched some milk and an apple (hey I was hungry!) and happily munched on the red fruit while skipping down a random hallway. I noticed where I was however, when I read the label above one of the doors "Classroom B113". Ahh, so I was in med student territory, excellent! I chuckled evilly to myself, and wrung my hands together in a villain like fashion. The door was open, so I chanced a look inside. It seemed that whatever class that had been in session had just let out since only a few students were present, standing in a group and talking quietly.

Then I bit back a misgruntled sound, because it was just my luck that any other than Dr. fuckin Hill was there too. I'd rather eat my own fingers than willingly step into the same room as that guy. Then I noticed that one of the students in the group was not dressed in typical scrubs, but in a black suit. He had his back towards me , and he was apparently talking to dr hill by the looks of it. Now something really funny happened, Dr Hill's face took on a very ashen quality( which made him look remarkably like a cucumber) which quickly melted into an expression of such hate and loathing.

Whoever puts an expression like that on my archenemy deserves a bouqet of roses, seriously. Mr black suit is my new best friend!

Then of course my cover is blown.

Dan , who's also standing in the group spots me by the doorway, smiles and calls out to me:

"Lyds, hi! Just passing by or are you looking for someone?"

The other men in the group turn around to look at me, including mister black suit. I just kind of shrug and reply casually:

"It's a secret mission, I'm afraid. I can't trust you with that kind of information, unless some sort of blood oath is involved."

Dan is a pretty nice guy actually,he'one of the few people at the hospital who talks to me willingly AND he totally gets it when I'm joking. Like right now for example.

Dan just laughs, but dr hill and mister black suit remain omniously quiet. Oh, so much for new best friend then, I sulk in my head. However I am not deterred! I walk up towards them and extend my hand to Mr. Black with a (I hope is) dazzeling smile on my lips.

"Hi, I'm Lydia! What is YOUR name good sir?"

He looks at my hand like it's made of gooey worms and then he looks back at my face with dark and intense eyes. He doesn't reply, and instead Dan does so in his place:

"This is Herbert West, he's gonna join my class in our third year."