COHEN, jaeda

[jaeda]

jaeda renée cohen
t w e n t y f o u r. f e m a l e. p r a n k s t e r. m i d d l e c l a s s.

TELL US ALL ABOUT YOU!

"I'm a really goofy person. I don't take too much seriously. My childhood was pretty much entirely in the hospital, except for a few brief times at home, so now that I'm older and all that stuff is behind me, I like to just live it up. I love to laugh, so I'm pretty much all about having fun. I like to make other people smile too, so that's why I play a lot of pranks. It's important to me to have fun and stuff. I have a hard time getting serious about school stuff, because really, there's more to life than getting good grades, even though they help. I hope I can make a career out of having fun- like the guys on Jackass. They're my heroes.

I guess people would say I spend too much time goofing off, and I don't take enough seriously. I spend too much time having fun, and don't focus on things I should focus on, like school work. I've also heard people say I can be a bitch when people don't like my jokes. I guess that's pretty accurate. I hate it when people can't take a joke, so when they don't take mine right, I tend to bitch them out about being squares.

I'm also a very secretive person. Like, nobody around here knows I was ever sick. I say the scar on my back is from a car accident, and the one on my shoulder is from a dog bite. I'm a firm believer that my business is my business, and I really don't like sharing a painful past. Besides, I'm deathly afraid it'll just come right back. I'm not out of the danger zone yet, and even though I'm afraid of another relapse, I'm not going to any more check-ups. I really hate medicine- ironic, considering my chosen profession, right? By the time I was sixteen, I had a bigger medical vocabulary than anybody should, without an MD following his or her name. Originally, I wanted to be just like the guys on Jackass, but for some reason, fate dragged me in this direction...

by the time I came along, there was Mom, who was raising Caleb, who was about one at the time, and Dad was working at the police station. So they were a family of three, and then me, Alyssa, and Lucas came along. I guess you could say we doubled the size of the family overnight. Anyway, we were born in New York, just outside the Big Apple. I was kinda funny in a way, cause Dad was working a lot of hours in the NYPD, and they already had a baby, but I guess they loved us too because they decided to have us. I can only imagine their reaction to there being three of us, though. Anyway, we were born a couple weeks early, and spent a month and a half in the hospital. Lucas went home first, and then two days later Alyssa and I came home, a few hours apart. We were healthy, for the most part, but small. I don't remember any of this, I'm just going by what Mom and Dad have told me. So we were normal and such for a while. We started walking, talking, and acting like normal children. Boring, right?

And then one day, when I was four and Mom was going to put me, Alyssa, and Lucas in daycare all day while Caleb was in kindergarten, something went wrong. I don't really remember that day, but mom says she couldn't wake me up, and when she tried to shake me, she saw a bruise on my back. So she and Dad took me to the hospital, and I was diagnosed with leukemia. I started treatment almost immediately, and that kept up until after my fifth birthday. Then Mom and Dad were told I was healthy again, and things started to return to normal. But they were still worried, and Mom became my teacher. So while Alyssa and Lucas started kindergarten, I was homeschooled. And then, one day, the same thing happened again. It was my seventh birthday, and mom came in to wake us up sp we could get ready for our party. I wouldn't wake up again, and there was another bruise. I remember more about this one... especially how much that test needle hurt. Anyway, then it was off to treatment again. Luckily, this time, it was only a couple months before I was in remission again.

I actually stayed that way for a pretty long time, too- it wasn't until after I turned 11 that I relapsed again. That fight was the worst of them all. I remember every bit of it. Every few months, my cell counts would start going back to normal, but then I'd get an infection or something, and bam! it'd get bad again. I was almost thirteen when my kidneys started failing, and three months before my fourteenth birthday, they failed completely. The doctor said I needed a transplant, and Alyssa was the obvious choice, since we're identical. She ended up giving me one of her kidneys. She didn't have a choice, either, though, because Mom and Dad would have made her if she protested. She almost died from a post-surgical infection, but she came around and survived. She was pretty pissed when they told her she couldn't play contact sports any more. Anyway, a week after I turned fourteen, I was told that the leukemia was gone again. It stayed gone for... about two years after that, give or take. But then, yeah, it came back. It seemed to be even worse, and because it started toward the end of my sophomore year, I was pretty much boned. They forced me into home schooling again, though because my grades were so high while in school, I was also allowed to skip a year and just go straight to my senior year, or whatever the equivalent was in home schooling terms. This round continued for quite a while, and instead of going off to college like the rest of my friends, I had to go to a community college for all of freshman year- it was the same classes, pretty much, just for super-cheap and close to home. By the end of my college-freshman year, I was "cured" (and I use this term tentatively) again, and transferred to UCLA for sophomore year and beyond. After graduating, I got into the UCLA med school, which I also graduated with a very high GPA. (If I'm not mistaken, it was about 3.99.) Right now, I just started my residency, which is pretty fun, considering I'm now spending a lot of time working cases in the ER."

wow, i'm glad to be joining UNTOUCHED. my name just so happens to be Rojyazu/Roj, BILLY MAYS, Tater, etc., and the celebrity who i am using just so happens to be Olivia Wilde. i've been doing this for 8-ish years, so i pretty much know how this all works.

-- » God, this was bullshit. Fourteen-year-olds were supposed to be confused about their feelings- what they were feeling and why- teenagers who had no clue where they were going in life and shit like that. Doctors, who by definition should have it all figured out, should never be this level of confused. Xzandr was bombarded by so many different emotions that, honestly, she just wanted out. She didn't know why, but for some reason, for her, it was better to take the easy way out- escaping completely- than to tough it out and, God forbid, talk about it with someone (anyone.) No, she would rather off herself than let go the hard-ass facade, to reveal that she was, in fact, human, and had human feelings.

» This was so many levels of complete bullshit. Xzandr never wanted Felix in the first place. In fact, the first thing that came to her mind when she found out was, where can I terminate this asswipe? She didn't know why she even bothered mentioning it to Ozzy, considering what her plans were, knowing that, if she hadn't told him she totally could have gotten away with it, unless some asshole saw her on that floor and started asking questions. But she did tell him, and then without consulting him about what he would think- she told him and then just kind of ran- she went upstairs to do it. Cool facade, go up, on the table, staring at the instruments... and then she bolted, just as everything was about to start. Just kind of jumped off the table- it was hell on her leg- and ran away, to her office, and hid there. She couldn't do it. She didn't know why- she hated children- but she just couldn't do it. Later on, several months, she gets attacked. Well, not directly, but some asshole opened her door so quickly that, the way she was standing next to it, and having turned to face the door just before it opened, slammed into her swollen belly and sandwiched her between it and the window. The asshole fled, but that didn't make it any less damaging. Ozzy had found her what seemed like just in time. She was taken to the OR, where they delivered Felix, nearly twenty weeks premature. After a shaky first few months of life, supported by tubes and needles and machines and drugs, it looked like Felix might actually make it. He was still tiny, only four pounds at five months old, but it was a hell of a lot heavier than the eleven ounces he weighed at birth. He was doing so well... they were even talking about taking him off the ventilator, to see how he would do... That's what hurt the most. How could he have declined so fast? It was an infection that did him in. The tiny heart was unable to support him, and just hours after they discovered there even was an infection, Felix died.

» Xzandr hadn't been too eager to visit Felix in the NICU for a good chunk of his earlier days. She wasn't stupid. She knew that the chances of the little boy surviving were all but zero. Not only was the NICU a depressing place that she didn't want to visit, but she didn't want to admit that she did love the little boy, that it would hurt if he died. She was afraid of getting attached to him and then watching him die, all the while she could do nothing to help him, and could only watch. But as Felix improved, she began visiting more, less and less afraid of losing him. One every other week became two or three times a week, which then in turn became every day, and in the weeks before the baby's death, she was visiting nearly every day. She had begun to think of the NICU- or at least to area beside Felix's incubator- as something of a meditation area. If she was "hiding" from Ozzy, or if she'd had some sort of fight with her father- or, hell, if she was avoiding doing any actual work- she would come there and sit beside Felix, even talk to him. Eventually, she would have begun feeding him- though at that point, feeding by mouth was still far-off, as the baby was still dependent on tubes for everything. In fact, she was headed in for her near-daily visit, with a little stuffed penguin for Felix, the day she go the news. She'd walked in, stated scrubbing her hands, and was met at the door by one of the nurses, who informed her that Felix had literally just died.

» She hadn't told Ozzy. And she doubted anyone else would, either. As a favor to Ozzy, to save him from her father's ridicule and the vicious rumors that the nurses spread around the hospital like wildfire, she hadn't told anyone who Felix's father was, and so logically, there was no reason for anyone to tell Ozzy. Unless he was visiting Felix on his own, which Xzandr highly doubted, though she didn't keep tabs on him and was actually pretty much avoiding him now, he probably hadn't even noticed the death. Would she tell him? Probably not. She didn't want to have to be the bearer of bad news. She was actually pretty afraid of telling him, afraid of what his reaction might be. What if he cried? She couldn't comfort him- she wasn't a very nurturing person. Or what if he did the exact opposite? What if he didn't care at all? What if he was only relieved? She might lose all her self-control and murder him right then and there.

» Xzandr was done with this- with everything. The worst part out of all of this was the anti-relationship between herself and Ozzy. It started out as completely nothing, just casual sex. Even up to just before she found out about Felix, it was nothing. And then she had to get all attached... It actually hurt, when she claimed at first that Felix wasn't even his, that Ozzy readily believed her (though, obviously, he later realized she was lying about that). She missed their random fucking sessions, and the way they'd throw banter back and forth, her pretending she hated him, and him... well, he was too hard to read. She couldn't tell how attached he was, or if he was at all. That was the problem- the lack of obvious attachment told her that no, he didn't care about her. Or that's what she assumed. Truthfully, she didn't know, and she was afraid of the truth. Maybe if she put herself out a little more, tried telling him- oh, who was she kidding? She couldn't just tell him her feelings. She wasn't that kind of person. Besides, she was all but convinced he would laugh at her. Her heart, which did actually exist, despite popular belief, would break. She couldn't let that happen.

» It was all too much information for Xzandr to process. She didn't understand it, couldn't comprehend a single thing. She was done. This couldn't go on- she wouldn't let it. As Xzandr hobbled into her office, leaning heavily on her cane, she shut the door behind her, and turned the lock- though, because she wasn't paying attention, it only half-closed, and wouldn't take more than a slight jostle to open the door. She reached out and pulled on the blinds, only to stop short. They were stuck. "The fuck...?" She tilted her head to see if they were just being temperamental, or if someone messed with them. Sure enough, there was ABC [already been chewed] gum all up in the blinds, preventing them from coming down. She growled a little. It was her father's doing, she knew right away. "Oh, fuck you, old man!" she yelled, as if anyone could actually hear her. Then she gave up and just plopped into the chair behind her desk. Nobody would see her anyway- it was 11 PM at the hospital, and if any doctors were there, they definitely weren't going to be in these particular halls, or so she thought. She could do this in complete peace...

» Sitting on her desk were a number of things: files, most of them closed medical cases awaiting her lazy ass to finish the paper work, but most prominent being her bottle of vicodin and the stuffed penguin she'd been planning on giving Felix. He'd been dead for three days now, buried yesterday, and for some reason, Xzandr just couldn't get rid of the penguin. She wondered, would Felix have liked it? If he would have lived, would it be something he snuggled with every night? Would he have taken it to school for show-and-tell? Would it have become one of those toys that was snuggled with so much that, by the time Felix decided he was too old for it, there would be only a few patches of fur- and no eyes- left? The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. "Fuck!" she yelled, grabbing the penguin by its neck. "Fuck you! Why did you have to fucking die?! I loved you!" She lobbed the penguin as hard as she could. It hit the glass with a thunk and slid to the floor, right where the blood stain from her attack was- she'd refused to let her carpet be replaced. She growled in frustration. Great, another reminder of her incompetence as a mother. It wasn't fair. Felix was dead, while some baby by some teenage slut who really didn't want him lived, unloved, un-cared-for. It wasn't fair. Not. One. Bit.

» Xzandr reached out and grabbed the bottle of vicodin, by now fighting back tears. She opened the bottle set the lid on the desk, and dumped two pills into her palm. Stared at them for a while. Decided that wasn't enough. Five more pills joined them. Three more after that. Would have been more- a regular orgy- but that was all that was left in the bottle. Chucking the bottle- it landed in just about the middle of the floor with a hollow thunk- she stared at the pills in her hand for a couple seconds before chucking them into her mouth, two by two- like Noah's Ark- and swallowing them dry. She hadn't needed water to take her meds for year, why bother now? Once that was done, she paused. What now? She didn't feel anything yet, but knew it would come. She'd get bored if she just sat there and did nothing- funny concept, getting bored while waiting for your suicide attempt to take effect (funny, she reflected, it probably would have been easier to jump off the hospital roof)- so she decided to write. She reached into the drawer in her desk and pulled out a notebook and pen, and started writing.

» But then she paused. She was never good at writing letters, especially under pressure. She knew this one would have to be written quickly- she was already starting to feel a little funny, and didn't want to be in the middle of a sentence when she croaked. What details should she give? Which should she omit? More importantly, who should it be written to? Without thinking any more about it, she began writing- to Ozzy, no less. She was going to tell him what a dick he was, and how their sex had stopped being meaningless to her, and how she knew (or thought she knew) that it had always been completely meaningless to him. But she only got enough written to express how much his inaction and lack of emotion had hurt her when she began feeling worse, and had to put down the pen, or else the rest of the letter would have been squiggly lines, like a small child's attempt at writing. Xzandr quickly pivoted her chair and, leaning over, grabbed the small trash can she kept near her desk, vomiting into it. The room was spinning. Her vision was blurring. She vomited again. God, why couldn't she just die already?! She thought she heard the door, or someone trying to open it."Fuck off," she whispered, not nearly loud enough for anyone not an inch away from her could hear, though to herself it sounded pretty loud.

» She honestly couldn't tell who could be at the door. If it was one of her "ducklings", they would be immediately deterred by the apparently locked door and run off to find someone else to answer their questions. If it was her father, he would either break the door or get bored and walk away, planning on returning later to hassle her. And if it was Ozzy? Xzandr doubted he would even give a shit. She doubted he would even approach her office any more, wouldn't even walk past it. The possibility of it being him didn't even cross her mind. She tried to look up to see who it was, but her vision was so blurred that she couldn't see. She tried to stand, and walk over to the door to chase whomever it was off, but she only got a couple of steps away from her chair before the dizziness got to her, and she hit the floor.



did i mention this application template was created by JESSICA. She was bored, and felt inspired. So yeah, credit is due where it is due. She goes by GAGA @ CAUTION. Not that it matters since she rarely posts anything there.

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