Posted by Rache on July 06, 2001 at 20:49:52:
(f/f,pillow,non-cons,lesbian)
Death of a Family
Fiction by Rachael
Part III. Nurse Johnson
The angel of mercy moved quietly through the night. She'd spent 40 minutes in the hospital chapel, seeking direction from God and praying for the hearts and souls of her precious wards. Now she pinned her starched white cap into place so that it rested perfectly atop her coarse black hair, a startling contrast. Her eyes also were black, deep wells of ink that refused to soften with her smile that was often generous and kind. She'd practiced her smile many times, getting it just right. The angel smoothed her crisp white uniform, and tugged her ivory nylons into place, so that the seam ran perfectly from heel to mid-thigh along the back of her legs. She frowned at the small Red Cross pin on her lapel, giving it a slight turn so that it was correctly upright. She didn't like to wear it. She checked herself once more in the full-length mirror fixed to the wall of the nurses changing room. Her not-quite-but-almost black skin and dazzling white uniform left no room for unnecessary details. Distractions that led to misunderstanding. For Nurse Johnson there was only black and white and that she understood completely.
Nurse Johnson had worked in several hospitals over her 10-year career. She was born to it, gifted with caring for people in distress. Her work was always excellent, her performance reports invariably generous with praise. But she had a secret, as all angels do. While caring for the ill was a noble endeavor and filled her with pride (for which she'd asked the Lord's forgiveness more than once) she knew also that there were times when a person needed something else. When healing was not possible. She had known from the first that she was charged above all to end suffering and sometimes that meant doing the unthinkable. Always she'd prayed for guidance, it was not after all her will that someone should die, just as it was not her decision who would live. At first she had looked for outward signs, physical things to show her the way. A burning bush, a pillar of flame but she'd known how foolish that had been. The signs she was given were inside, in her heart and conscience. God did indeed speak with her, but it wasn't until she'd closed her eyes and ears to distractions that she'd heard his gentle voice.
He was telling her now to visit the young woman in B ward, room B316. Nurse Johnson didn't know who the girl was; her normal post was in A ward. But no one would comment if she paid the girl a visit. A nurse of her talent and experience was welcome anywhere in the hospital. She would go during her supper break to ensure she didn't disrupt the steady measured pace of hospital routine. Nurse Johnson sang softly to herself as she made rounds, checking the patients who had come to rely on her brilliant smile as much as her gentle touch.
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Ross, Rachael Katherine: 18, female, Caucasian, recently orphaned in the tragic automobile accident which had claimed the lives of her father and mother. No, that's not correct is it? Nurse Johnson looked over the chart with a critical eye. Only minor children can be orphaned, she was an adult by law. But Nurse Johnson relented, forgiving the handwritten mistake in the patient summary. She looked so young, the nurse thought, orphaned was the correct choice of words in reality.
Rachael had not been seriously injured in the accident. At least physically, she'd healed quickly over the last 6 weeks and should have returned to her home. Her now empty home. And perhaps that explained more than anything why the girl was still here. A form of catatonia, brain activity appeared close to normal, and her body responded clinically to external stimuli. But she was incapable of independent movement. She did not speak or move except for the slow rise and fall of her chest and the occasional blinking of her eyelids. If someone pulled her by the hand she would rise from her bed. She would walk slowly as long as she had someone's hand to hold. She would catch small objects tossed gently to her, but nothing beyond that. It was not unheard of, but not common by any mean. There were many unknowns in the human mind, secrets that God would keep to Himself and it was not Nurse Johnson's place to understand. Nor did she think was it proper to keep young Ross, Rachael K. as a test subject, hoping that she would just 'snap out of it' one day and rejoin the living. Nurse Johnson understood why God had led her to this room. It was by far a sad thing to see and there was no doubt the girl was suffering silently as much as any patient in the hospital. But unlike most there was no relief, no drug to give her a moment's surcease from the pain of seeing her parents die.
The room, Nurse Johnson saw, was typical. There were some flowers and a few stuffed animals. Presumably brought in by staff and volunteers in an effort to give the rather dull furnishings some cheer. But it only made Nurse Johnson realize all the more that for this girl the trappings of happiness were wasted. She had other needs that were plain to anyone who could see clearly. Nurse Johnson picked up a small blue teddy bear and saw it had a winding key in the back, she turned it quickly so that it made a soft clicking sound and when she let go the saccharin strains of 'Lulla-bye' strained to fill the room.
Nurse Johnson closed the door quietly behind her. She would return tomorrow, her normal day off and spend more time with the girl. She was so fragile, so lovely and innocent. Yes, Nurse Johnson thought, she would be doing God's work.
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The following evening Nurse Johnson slipped into the hospital unnoticed. Not such a difficult task if you were familiar with the building and the people who worked there. Schedules were kept by necessity and Nurse Johnson had done this before, after all. Rachael's chart indicated that evening checks were made hourly. She did not require monitoring, her body was functioning perfectly. She was no longer fed intravenously, she remembered how to swallow soft food, albeit slowly and was able to drink, although at times it could be a messy experience. In the nursing station she would be referred to as the perfect patient, but in Nurse Johnson's opinion the perfect patient was one who went home to her family.
Nurse Johnson watched carefully through the large convex mirror placed near a corner to prevent accidents. She could see the oddly deformed shape of the night nurse making her rounds. The chief of the ward, a senior nurse, would be at the nurse's station doing her endless paperwork. Rachael's room was at the end; almost but not quite out of sight from the station. Hospitals tend to place patients in relative proximity by their needs. Rachael didn't need very much, so it was just a matter of waiting until the rounds were finished. Nurse Johnson slipped easily inside the dim room. She checked her watch, 50 minutes she told herself, no longer. It would be plenty of time to do God's work.
Rachael was sleeping peacefully to all outward appearances, but it was really impossible to know. She slept with her eyes open, blinking only when her body acted in a programmed reflex to irritation. Nurse Johnson sat beside the bed in the hard plastic chair provided for the girl's non-existent visitors. She reached a soft hand to Rachael's forehead; the nurses here were taking good care of her. She'd been recently bathed and her hair had been brushed to a dull sheen of auburn and it was spread out on her pillow like a tarnished halo. The girl's eyes stared at point seemingly fixed someplace beyond the ceiling, it was slightly disconcerting but Nurse Johnson didn't mind. Perhaps, she thought, they were fixed on Heaven. She hoped so. Rachael's eyes were not dull, however, Nurse Johnson moved the small reading lamp attached by an adjustable arm to the wall. She shined the light on Rachael's face and watched the eyes dilate. Nurse Johnson thought Rachael was probably awake; she would talk to the girl in any case. They would pray together, Nurse Johnson had brought her bible and now she opened it.
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Rachael was awake. Trapped in the van, never able to escape that terrible moment. Sometimes people would be in the van with her. They would talk to her, feed her. Sometimes they would unbuckle her seat belt and take her for a walk, but only through the ruinous interior of the van. Sometimes she knew the people with her, she would recognize them and try to speak. But no voice would emerge, her lips would move but the sound was the roaring sound of twisting metal and breaking glass. Now she saw a black woman, dressed completely in white. Rachael listened as the woman spoke to her, reading to her from the bible. Rachael was thankful that she had something to think about, the words were comforting not so much in content, but as a link with another person. Another place she had once known.
But the line between sleep and wakefulness for Rachael was so thin as to be invisible. For her everything was a dream and so she slipped easily into a safe place, carried by the gentle voice in her ears. Rachael was with her boy friend again, the last intimate moments she could remember replayed with exaggerated emotion. The van was still there, still surrounding her like a violent cocoon, but now Greg was beside her. He held her closely and his hands roamed Rachael's body, exciting her as only he could. His lips were warm against hers and Rachael opened her mouth to his tongue, tasting that which was uniquely him. In his arms she felt protected and could close her eyes to her surroundings, almost forgetting where they were. She had promised herself to him and in her dream it was time to fulfill the desire they both shared. Rachael could feel him, his hands on her breasts and his hot breath in her ear. It was a familiar sensation and she welcomed it with every part of her being.
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Nurse Johnson had finished her prayer and was reading from the New Testament when she noticed something odd. Rachael had been dressed in a nightgown, not the standard hospital gown. This wasn't unusual for a patient like her; familiar things were often used in the hopes of speeding recovery. But what attracted Nurse Johnson's attention was Rachael's breasts, the blanket covering her only to her midriff. It took Nurse Johnson a moment to realize what was wrong; Rachael's nipples were hard. Her face was flushed with a color that had not been there a few minutes before. The black nurse set her Bible down and touched the girl's forehead. Warm, but not feverish. Rachael's breathing also had changed. It was not the slow deep breaths of resting, they were slightly faster, sharper as if...As if, yes Nurse Johnson realized, the girl was having a dream. Something sexual, exciting her. It was only natural, she supposed, Rachael was 18 and her body was fine. Even more so it was likely some parts of her mind was working fine as well.
Nurse Johnson had never been with a man. She'd devoted her life first to her God, then to school and her career. She had no need of such distractions, but she was also a woman. And she had felt many times the passions being played out in the sleeping girl's mind. It was not a bad thing, she understood, it was a part of nature. A part of God's nature. And so it was that Nurse Johnson did not criticize the girl, nor judge her for her feelings, expressed only in the smallest ways. The woman considered for a moment and then gingerly reached out a delicate hand to touch Rachael's breast. She cupped it and felt the warmth there, the life trapped in isolation. She squeezed the girl's body, pressing her thumb against the hard nipple through the thin fabric. Rachael made no sound, no movement and Nurse Johnson made her decision. God had brought her here for a reason, that much was clear. But it was possible that He had two reasons, that he had wanted Nurse Johnson to discover something as well.
The black woman carefully rolled the blanket down Rachael's still body. Yes, she could smell the girl. A sweet Ivory Soap scent and underneath, something else. The subtle tangible sensation of desire. Nurse Johnson sat on the edge of the bed and slid her hands underneath Rachael's nightgown, feeling the soft smoothness of her thighs. She touched the heat of the girl's bare sex; Rachael had no need of panties after all. The feeling surprised Nurse Johnson; she'd seen and touched a hundred such girls. But this time it was different, this time she was not performing her job. She was doing something else, something for herself. And for Rachael too, she believed, the girl would almost certainly enjoy this. It would be a final act of love before her suffering ended, before the angel of mercy granted her wish.
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Rachael suddenly felt a touch; Greg was with her, yes. His hand was on her breast, squeezing her gently and her nipple burned as she felt his thumb press against it. She cradled his head in her arms, feeling his urgent kisses on her neck and shoulder. He was undressing her, lying her bare to his gaze and touch. She gasped and felt a small chill run across her spine as the cool air surrounded her warm flesh. His hand was moving, across her thigh, upward, teasing her, torturing her by degrees. When she felt hi hand finally touching the mound of her sex it was as if a fire had been lit in her belly. She wanted him more than ever, she needed him to be with her and love her. To protect her from the loneliness of that van where she was jailed.
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Nurse Johnson slipped her fingers along Rachael's wetness, feeling the heat and the easy way her sex parted, inviting her to probe deeper. She bent to take Rachael's breast in her mouth; the pale white of the girl's skin delighted the older woman. Yes, she thought as she took Rachael's nipple between her lips, black and white. Everything is clear. Nurse Johnson suckled gently, sometimes taking only the nipple, sometimes as much of the tender girl as possible between her lips. Her long delicate fingers massaged Rachael's labia, pinching and playing with the folds of flesh as they filled with blood. The younger girl's clitoris also, becoming hard like an odd shaped pebble, pressed against Nurse Johnson's gently moving palm. Nurse Johnson lifted her mouth and moved it to the other breast, tracing a thin wet line with her tongue across the soft valley between them. She watched Rachael's face, it was flushed, red with the energy of being loved and Nurse Johnson wanted to kiss her very much.
Rachael's soft lips parted and Nurse Johnson slipped her tongue across and between them. It was not a deep kiss, only soft and tender. She had pulled her hand away from the girl's sex and now she fondled the girl's small firm breasts as they kissed. Nurse Johnson felt light headed, and her own body was desperately warm. She did not understand completely what she was doing, only that it was necessary. For both of them.
Nurse Johnson moved so that her mouth was kissing slowly down Rachael's body. Touching her through the thin cotton nightgown. Her lips reached the top of Rachael's sex and she licked carefully, slowly in a lazy circle around the top and down the side, in the soft crease of skin between thigh and sex. She smelled the passion rising from Rachael and saw the wetness leaking from her. Nurse Johnson moved her lips to the opening and kissed the delicate folds. She touched her tongue to the girl's clitoris, teasing it with the tip, running in a small circle around it and over it. She took it between her lips and sucked gently, squeezing it softly as she used a finger to penetrate Rachael's vagina. The smooth hard ridges inside the girl excited Nurse Johnson further, she twisted her finger slightly, crooking it and stroking inside. She was rewarded with a small flood of juice, Rachael's body moved slightly; in reflex to the orgasm she was experiencing. Her vaginal walls contracted, gripping and releasing Nurse Johnson's finger even as she moved it slowly in and out.
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Rachael's orgasm surrounded her, like lightning striking through a cloudless sky it surprised her. Greg's mouth was kissing, probing deeply into her most private place, bringing her to new heights. She tried to move her hips, to urge him on. She needed it harder, deeper, to be pierced by him and know finally the joy of being joined with someone in love. The stillness that was her world became a cacophony of brilliant sound and colors, the imaginations of a mind desperate for human touch and experience. Greg was moving with her, sliding his body along hers. He was so warm, burning against her belly, her breasts. She felt his hardness entering her, opening the depths of her being for his gentle, unrelenting thrusts. She worked to meet him, willing her body to embrace his union and swallow him complete. She wanted to throw herself to the pleasure, to lift her head and scream with ecstasy, but she dared not. The seatbelt was still in place, the roaring pain threatening release if she'd dared break the spell by giving voice to her dream. She remained still, letting her lover move her as he wanted, giving her pleasure and in that act finding pleasure himself. For Rachael it was an eternity of pleasure bound by a memory she fought to keep away.
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The black nurse was kneeling on Rachael's chest, careful not to put too much weight on the girl. It was time she knew. Her own sex was wet and aching but she would not relieve herself, not yet. This new discovery had confused her for a moment; she'd almost forgotten the true purpose she was here. Nurse Johnson's body was bathed in sweat, flushed with an excitement she couldn't deny. She looked down at Rachael, still gazing unseeing into heaven. She'd at least had a moment's earthly pleasure, perhaps a dream to keep her safe in that prison of her own construct. Nurse Johnson kissed the girl one more time tenderly, as a mother might a child who was sleeping soundly. She pulled the pillow out from under Rachael's head, disappointed that her hair, so carefully arranged had become confused and tangled. Nurse Johnson placed the pillow over Rachael's face, pressing gently but firmly with both hands over the girl's nose and mouth. Silently Nurse Johnson began to pray.
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Rachael felt Greg once more kissing her. Softly, their lovemaking done. He was going to take her away, he said, someplace safe. Rachael watched as he unbuckled her seat belt, and taking his hand she stood up. The cavernous interior was filled with broken glass and the shadows of twisted metal created monsters on the floor and walls. She was frightened, it was becoming dark. Greg's hand slipped out of hers and she stood alone, suddenly terrified. She couldn't move. It was impossible. The sound of her own heartbeat filled her ears, she couldn't breathe. She was blind and afraid to stretch out her arms in case something might be waiting, something that would take her where she didn't want to go. The pleasure she'd felt a moment before had been washed away by fear, the fear which held her captive. Rachael opened her mouth to scream and the sound of death filled her ears. The memory of being showered with broken glass, being thrown against one side of the van and then suddenly bouncing off the other. The memory of seeing her mother turn around to say something and being suddenly silenced by a slice of broken glass rushing through her neck. Rachael saw her father thrown out, his door opening and then slamming closed as it met the hard earth. She'd never seen him again and she wept as the thought flooded through her.
And then, as if in the center of a tornado she saw a faint ray of light. She took a stumbling step and then another, trying to reach it. Her heart was pounding in fear and she couldn't breath. Her lungs labored and felt hot inside her chest. She felt suffocated, as if the memories themselves were clamped around her neck, choking her, killing her. She moved closer to the light and watched as it grew brighter, obscuring everything else around her. She lifted her arms wide, as if to embrace it and welcomed the sudden warmth as it found her, surrounded her. Rachael felt the terrible fingers of sorrow grow weak, loosening their grip on her throat and finally falling away as she was carried higher and higher into the brilliance.
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Nurse Johnson lifted the pillow after 5 minutes. She was surprised to find she was weeping; she'd not done that before. She looked on Rachael's pretty face, pale and finally at peace. Her eyes had closed by themselves and Nurse Johnson kissed each of them softly. She replaced the pillow, lifting Rachael and spreading her hair in a silken halo. She arranged the girl's nightgown and pulled the blanket up to her breasts. Nurse Johnson picked up the blue teddy bear, winding it softly and setting it down in the suddenly very empty room. She picked up her bible and closed the door quietly behind her.
The end.
rache@envy.nu