The Scientist

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(Clarke Pov)

 "Why don't you become a surgeon? Like your mother". That's was what my relatives told me a few years ago. I'm afraid that was the real reason why I chose a totally different path after graduation. Not everyone understands what it means to be the daughter of Abby Griffin, one of the best surgeons in L.A. , the expectations was too high for me, and then I'll never wanted become an Abby Griffin's Copy.
In any case, I've stayed in that path, but I dived myself into an uncharted territory when, four years ago, I came in San Diego, to subscribe at the University of California San Diego's School of Medicine.
The campus life wasn't for me, so after three terrible years in the college's dormitory, I've found an apartment near the Campus, along with two roommates, Raven and Octavia.
It is more than a year that we live together.
Raven and Octavia are different as day and night, and they have few arguments in common, including shoes and boys. Raven is working at a Mechanic's Workshop, wile the second roommate is a journalist of a popular women's magazine. she writes about relationships or something else.
Octavia is the only one in a romantic relationship. Since I've ever met her, she was engaged to Lincoln, a nice guy with amber skin.
Rav and I shared a boy for a few weeks, our Neigbour Finn Collins. But the story with him was over almost immediately. Now he's our friend, and sometimes we go out with him and our friends.
My Roommates and I form a strange trio and we sound like a bad joke: "Once upon a time, a journalist, a mechanic and a psychiatrist ...".
So nothing to do with Sex and the City, the Octavia's favorite tv-show.
The Psychiatry college has never been my first choice
It has become my first choice, slowly, just like if I would have recognize that job as my way ... Probably, Because I have needed a therapist!
I've always been the best student in my class, and the Master came easly.
I had just received my degree, when my best friend's father called me, telling me that in a small Medical Studio in the center of San Diego, they were looking for a Psychiatrist.
If I Know Wells' father, that job has came into thin air, as if it was waiting for me... If you know what I mean.
Now you're thinking that I've an Easy Life... But this is not exactly how things are.
My work consists in dealing with survivors of disasters and victims of rapes, which have suffered psychological damage from them. Create with them a healing journey, from their demons.
Take charge of so much pain, it is not easy. I would need a strong stomach, which I still have not, at least for now, I hope.
Try to separate work from private life is not easy for a novice like me. Fortunately, my lab hours are limited to 35/40 a week, and my roommates are ready to drag me somewhere to entertain me.
Unfortunately my friends do not just take me out.
No way!
Their goal is a desperate search for a man who is capable to, uh, melt me. It's their desperate crusade to find my perfect match.
According to Octavia, be a twentyseven single, like me, it's inconceivable ... I believe to be the new experiment for her article. It's not news that our friend, choose me and Raven as guinea pigs for her work.
In any case, these mundane nights, ending at unreasonable hours, making my awakening in the morning, more and more difficult.
Go home at four in the morning, to wake up at nine. Not great!

I try to grope the alarm clock, after a little struggle against the blankets, which were trying to keep me in their warm and muffled world. That damn object is croaking from a table's corner, it 's screaming to me that it's time to pull out my ass from the bed.
I finally emerge from the cotton and flannel quagmire, but I feel the last night's hangover .
Certainly my head my threatens to burst, but I try to drag myself to the bathroom to get ready for another stressful day.
Today I have only an appointment, but something is't quite.
The first patient of the day, is a young Marine returning from Afghanistan, after two years spent in mission.
I do not come never informed in advance about the generality of patients, perhaps to respect their privacy. I never asked any questions about this strange practice, although I very curious about that.
I admit to being very patriotic, but I feel really sorry for this guy, only heaven knows what horrors he had to attend.
From what little I know, he did not want the help of a therapist, but after the death of two of his fellow soldiers, his commander forced him to make an appointment with me.
I'm snorting, trying to tame the blonde forest which crowns my head.
-Oh, Clarke! You look terrible .- Octavia squeaks behind me.
I don't turn back, I perfectly know that she's leaning against the door, with her left shoulder.
-I Brought you some coffee ...- she whispers slyly.
Octavia knows me so well!
She is the only one who understands, that I need a cup of hot black coffee for reasoning, at the morning.
But I know her better. In fact, I know that when it's so nice to me to bring me a coffee, I should expect anything good.
I turn to O, watching her from my halfclosed eyes -What Do you say? - I hissed at her while I wrinkled my nose.
her false expression of innocent angel, confirms my theory.
- You remember my brother Bellamy? He should be back by the mission- she begins to tell me - and I was wondering if we could host him here for a few days ... until he find an accommodation -
The mystery is solved!
I do not answer to Octavia, I know it would be a waste of breath, she would do anyway in their own way. So I just nod accepting the gift.
Octavia never speaks of his brother, maybe it's a her superstitious ritual, to see him come back home on his legs.
Because, from what I know, Bellamy is a Marine, he has chosen, for a reason unknown to me, life at the front.
To be honest I had not even seen a photo of him ... Octavia, should take some pic of him, in her wallet or something. So I intend to ask her to show me the picture, before the boy could show up at the door. I am famous for closing the doors in the face, apparently.
Down distractedly gaze on the phone. It's Twenty minutes to ten. Damn it, I'll be late!
I run out of the bathroom, heading back to my room. Fortunately prepare the clothes for work the night before.
I put on my shirt and the blue pencil skirt. Trying to leave the room, i pick up the jacket wile I'm hopping from foot to foot to put his heels.
I hate being a woman!
I greeting the girls while I go out of the apartment and I go to the garage.
Fortunately, the Medical Studio is just over ten minutes from our apartment.
I arrived at the 20s style palace , greeting the old porter who smiles at me every morning and I go to the elevators.
Fourth floor, down the hall, first door on the right. I smile to see the brass plate on which was engraved, in italics, Doc. Griffin.
- Good morning Doc- greets me my secretary, Clarence - I brought coffee and a dounut, on his desk- she smiles.
- You're very kind, but you know you should not .- I thank you. She is a very sweet girl, but I am convinced that much of its warmth comes from the fear / love he feels for those who sent me the job.

To be continued

Author's Notes

Hello, I'm an Italian Fanwriter and this is the first story that I can translate, then I ask you to be lenient and to help me to improve it.

I hope you will like this story.
I ask you to let me know what you think and thank you in advance for your patience.
Read you soon
Dimea.

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 09, 2018 ⏰

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