Slowly We Unfurl as Lotus Flowers
Posted: Sat Oct 27, 2018 6:08 am
October 21, 2010.
Laura Nyquist slowly crept into the library at Aurora High. She made sure the door didn't bang too loudly when she closed it. She had enough attention brought to her during the day, and she didn't need any more.
Laura quietly made her way around the library, hoping that she was silent enough. On one side, she saw a Sophomore girl sitting at a table scribbling in a notebook. On another, she saw some Freshman kids gathered around a computer. Laura couldn't see what they were looking at, but she figured that even Freshman kids wouldn't be dumb enough to try and look up porn on a school computer.
She passed by Mrs. Garvey's desk. Mrs. Garvey had her nose in some romance novel, but she briefly looked up when Laura passed by her. Laura saw Mrs. Garvey smile at her as she walked by. Laura quickly turned away and turned her eyes to the path in front of her.
That old biddy must be laughing at how pathetic I look. Fucking teachers. They can brag their power over us students just so they can gather in their teacher's lounge and circle jerk about what some kids were wearing, or how hilarious it was when some kid couldn't answer a simple problem. Bunch of underpaid wage slaves they are.
Laura found a small corner of the library and immediately plopped herself in the chair. There were two nice chairs set between two bookshelves, allowing for couples or partners to sit by each other and read books. Laura did think the chair felt nice. The cushions were pretty large, and the armrests did have most of their strength left to make sure her arms didn't rest on the flat wood.
Laura slouched in the chair, stretching her legs across the row. Her feet really hurt. Laura could handle most high heels she slipped her size six feet into, and cheerleading taught her to be able to stand for hours on end while doing complex flips and routines.
But she wasn't wearing high heels anymore. She wasn't a cheerleader anymore. She was just a girl who was nearly six months pregnant and could hardly walk without feeling like her feet were going to give out and cause her to crawl from place to place.
Laura was tired. That's all she felt anymore. Aside from how difficult it was to walk, Laura felt she hardly had any energy for anything. Her exercise regiment had completely fallen out of order. She couldn't have any caffeine, and her mother was watching how much sugar she ate. Laura felt like a giant blob.
Laura sat in the chair and looked at her chest. The view looked like she was staring at the Rocky Mountains there were so many hills and valleys.
Man, getting bigger tits wasn't worth the extra weight. Fuck, I'm a beast.
Laura felt the baby moving inside her. It felt really weird. She didn't know how to describe the feeling of the baby moving around inside her, but every little movement made her tense up. She just wanted to relax, completely let herself embrace lethargy. But every time she tried, there would be a little kick to knock her back into her senses.
Come on, don't you have to sleep in there? Chill the fuck out. You aren't going anywhere, and kicking certainly isn't going to make it go quicker.
Laura only recently found out the baby was a girl. Her mother has rushed her to the ultrasound determined to know if she should plan for little league or ballet classes. Laura didn't really care about finding out the gender. It was still a lump of mass that gave her stretch marks and made her quit drinking, so why should she care if she should shop for blue or pink clothing?
But the doctor informed them it was a girl, so Laura simply thanked him for the news and carried on. Laura didn't really feel much about this. She did like the idea of taking her daughter shopping, teaching her about boys, and introducing her to some fun activities like fashion and cheerleading, but she wasn't feeling any joy right now. All she saw was the bulge in her stomach, and she could feel all the movements of the thing inside her.
Laura pulled out her sketchbook from her bag and grabbed a pen. She didn't want to go home yet. She didn't want to hear her mother hound her for what she ate, or hear her father demand to know about what plans she had for the weekend. She just wanted to have a moment of quiet. Some time to let her sketch some dresses and relax.
Laura began to move the pen across the paper.
Okay, let's see. Let's start with the silhouette. Keep it streamlined, with a bit of added volume near the bottom. Now, maybe a v-neck. Yeah, that looks nice. Maybe I should do some pleating near the collar, ah, yeah, that's hot. Okay, maybe find a good print. Although, if I do the pleating on top, I might want the print to be a trim. Let's see, keep the dress white, maybe make a trim with some black and white polka dot fabric. Ooh, that's nice. Man, I'll look so hot in this, I'll-
Laura stopped drawing. She looked at the dress she sketched on the pad.
"Who am I kidding?" Laura muttered to herself. "I won't be able to wear this."
Laura closed the sketch pad and set it on her lap. She grabbed her bag off the floor and pulled out her compact. She flipped the small mirror open and took a quick look at herself. She couldn't see her entire self, so she had to hold the mirror out and move it around.
I look like total shit.
Laura got a real good look at her appearance. Her skin was looking really pale. The bags under her eyes were starting to get dark. Her hair was tied back in it's usual ponytail, but she got a real look at how messy it was after spending a day moving quickly through the halls and through the Fall wind. Her clothing wasn't that spectacular either. The sweaters she wore now were very blase, mostly depicting some local university or some bland colors. The pants she was wearing were made with an elastic band to support her growing stomach.
Laura simply sat in her chair, thinking about the girl she just looked at in the compact.
This is not me. The real Laura Jane Nyquist would wear Jimmy Choo shoes, make others stare at the custom made dress she was wearing, then get the horny men around her to buy her drinks and smokes before she straddled them. This is not Laura. This is a ghost. A phantom. A shell of a person. A real fucking homunculus.
Laura felt tears well up in her eyes. She quickly brushed her arm against her eyes to wipe the tears away.
NO! You are not some little bitch! You are Laura Nyquist! The girl who other girls came to for fashion advice! The girl who guys wanted to fuck all night! The girl who could get whatever she wanted!
*kick*
OH SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! WILL YOU STOP KICKING FOR FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES? WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?
Laura clenched her teeth as she covered her face with her hands. The kicking continued. Laura growled through her teeth. Finally, she grabbed her sketchpad and began to scribble all over a bare page. She drew anything that came to mind. Quick little stick figures that she immediately blacked out, a cat's head, even some abstract shapes. Laura stopped when one stroke mark tore a line in the paper.
She flipped the page and saw that her strokes left an impression on the previous page. The page, which included the dress Laura sketched moments earlier, now had the impressions of the scribbled stick men, and a large black line that cut the woman in the white dress with the black and white polka dot trim in half. Laura exhaled loudly.
I'm so fucked up.
Laura Nyquist slowly crept into the library at Aurora High. She made sure the door didn't bang too loudly when she closed it. She had enough attention brought to her during the day, and she didn't need any more.
Laura quietly made her way around the library, hoping that she was silent enough. On one side, she saw a Sophomore girl sitting at a table scribbling in a notebook. On another, she saw some Freshman kids gathered around a computer. Laura couldn't see what they were looking at, but she figured that even Freshman kids wouldn't be dumb enough to try and look up porn on a school computer.
She passed by Mrs. Garvey's desk. Mrs. Garvey had her nose in some romance novel, but she briefly looked up when Laura passed by her. Laura saw Mrs. Garvey smile at her as she walked by. Laura quickly turned away and turned her eyes to the path in front of her.
That old biddy must be laughing at how pathetic I look. Fucking teachers. They can brag their power over us students just so they can gather in their teacher's lounge and circle jerk about what some kids were wearing, or how hilarious it was when some kid couldn't answer a simple problem. Bunch of underpaid wage slaves they are.
Laura found a small corner of the library and immediately plopped herself in the chair. There were two nice chairs set between two bookshelves, allowing for couples or partners to sit by each other and read books. Laura did think the chair felt nice. The cushions were pretty large, and the armrests did have most of their strength left to make sure her arms didn't rest on the flat wood.
Laura slouched in the chair, stretching her legs across the row. Her feet really hurt. Laura could handle most high heels she slipped her size six feet into, and cheerleading taught her to be able to stand for hours on end while doing complex flips and routines.
But she wasn't wearing high heels anymore. She wasn't a cheerleader anymore. She was just a girl who was nearly six months pregnant and could hardly walk without feeling like her feet were going to give out and cause her to crawl from place to place.
Laura was tired. That's all she felt anymore. Aside from how difficult it was to walk, Laura felt she hardly had any energy for anything. Her exercise regiment had completely fallen out of order. She couldn't have any caffeine, and her mother was watching how much sugar she ate. Laura felt like a giant blob.
Laura sat in the chair and looked at her chest. The view looked like she was staring at the Rocky Mountains there were so many hills and valleys.
Man, getting bigger tits wasn't worth the extra weight. Fuck, I'm a beast.
Laura felt the baby moving inside her. It felt really weird. She didn't know how to describe the feeling of the baby moving around inside her, but every little movement made her tense up. She just wanted to relax, completely let herself embrace lethargy. But every time she tried, there would be a little kick to knock her back into her senses.
Come on, don't you have to sleep in there? Chill the fuck out. You aren't going anywhere, and kicking certainly isn't going to make it go quicker.
Laura only recently found out the baby was a girl. Her mother has rushed her to the ultrasound determined to know if she should plan for little league or ballet classes. Laura didn't really care about finding out the gender. It was still a lump of mass that gave her stretch marks and made her quit drinking, so why should she care if she should shop for blue or pink clothing?
But the doctor informed them it was a girl, so Laura simply thanked him for the news and carried on. Laura didn't really feel much about this. She did like the idea of taking her daughter shopping, teaching her about boys, and introducing her to some fun activities like fashion and cheerleading, but she wasn't feeling any joy right now. All she saw was the bulge in her stomach, and she could feel all the movements of the thing inside her.
Laura pulled out her sketchbook from her bag and grabbed a pen. She didn't want to go home yet. She didn't want to hear her mother hound her for what she ate, or hear her father demand to know about what plans she had for the weekend. She just wanted to have a moment of quiet. Some time to let her sketch some dresses and relax.
Laura began to move the pen across the paper.
Okay, let's see. Let's start with the silhouette. Keep it streamlined, with a bit of added volume near the bottom. Now, maybe a v-neck. Yeah, that looks nice. Maybe I should do some pleating near the collar, ah, yeah, that's hot. Okay, maybe find a good print. Although, if I do the pleating on top, I might want the print to be a trim. Let's see, keep the dress white, maybe make a trim with some black and white polka dot fabric. Ooh, that's nice. Man, I'll look so hot in this, I'll-
Laura stopped drawing. She looked at the dress she sketched on the pad.
"Who am I kidding?" Laura muttered to herself. "I won't be able to wear this."
Laura closed the sketch pad and set it on her lap. She grabbed her bag off the floor and pulled out her compact. She flipped the small mirror open and took a quick look at herself. She couldn't see her entire self, so she had to hold the mirror out and move it around.
I look like total shit.
Laura got a real good look at her appearance. Her skin was looking really pale. The bags under her eyes were starting to get dark. Her hair was tied back in it's usual ponytail, but she got a real look at how messy it was after spending a day moving quickly through the halls and through the Fall wind. Her clothing wasn't that spectacular either. The sweaters she wore now were very blase, mostly depicting some local university or some bland colors. The pants she was wearing were made with an elastic band to support her growing stomach.
Laura simply sat in her chair, thinking about the girl she just looked at in the compact.
This is not me. The real Laura Jane Nyquist would wear Jimmy Choo shoes, make others stare at the custom made dress she was wearing, then get the horny men around her to buy her drinks and smokes before she straddled them. This is not Laura. This is a ghost. A phantom. A shell of a person. A real fucking homunculus.
Laura felt tears well up in her eyes. She quickly brushed her arm against her eyes to wipe the tears away.
NO! You are not some little bitch! You are Laura Nyquist! The girl who other girls came to for fashion advice! The girl who guys wanted to fuck all night! The girl who could get whatever she wanted!
*kick*
OH SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! WILL YOU STOP KICKING FOR FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES? WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?
Laura clenched her teeth as she covered her face with her hands. The kicking continued. Laura growled through her teeth. Finally, she grabbed her sketchpad and began to scribble all over a bare page. She drew anything that came to mind. Quick little stick figures that she immediately blacked out, a cat's head, even some abstract shapes. Laura stopped when one stroke mark tore a line in the paper.
She flipped the page and saw that her strokes left an impression on the previous page. The page, which included the dress Laura sketched moments earlier, now had the impressions of the scribbled stick men, and a large black line that cut the woman in the white dress with the black and white polka dot trim in half. Laura exhaled loudly.
I'm so fucked up.