my temporary home, *

[Bridgette Halliwell]

BRIDGETTE HALLIWELL,
WINDOWS AND ROOMS THAT I'M PASSIN THROUGH THIS
IS JUST A STOP ON THE WAY TO WHERE I'M GOING I'M NOT
afraid because I know this is my temporary home

- - - - -

"So you'll be staying in this room since we will need to be assessing you and how your body is reacting. We want what's best for you so we will do our best to find out what the problem is as quickly as possible, allowing you to make a full recover. Okay?" Bridgette Halliwell pulled her gaze from the window overlooking the busy street below and gave a forced smile to the nurse who was watching her carefully as if she was going to attempt to jump out of the window. Oh come on, she wasn't that depressed. Not yet anyway. Turning her back fully on the window that reminded her of the outside world, Bridgette let out a silent sigh, wincing as she felt her throat pinch for a moment. As she did, she spotted her father finally walking in with her sign translator Sarah. "Well! This is perfect!" Adam Halliwell exclaimed enthusiastically, giving Bridgette a pointed look. Bridgette glared at him right back and raised her hands to sign something to Sarah. A moment later Sarah spoke up. "Bridgette says it will have to do but she wants to know how long this will take." Bridgette leaned against the wall next to the window, adjusting her beanie and scarf to try and hide her thin hair. God she missed her long healthy blonde hair. But back to the nurse who was clearly trying to choose her words carefully so she wouldn't upset Bridgette. "Well until we can figure out the problem exactly, I can't say." And then she gave that stupid sympathetic smile. Ugh.

Of course she couldn't. Bridgette let her eyebrows crease into an ever so small frown before turning back to look out the window. She heard the nurse whisper something about leaving them to settle in and then there were the footsteps followed by silence. Bridgette turned around to see her father and Sarah just standing there watching her. Once again she was required to sign. "Sarah, Tell Dad I'm fine. I just need some time alone." she signed quickly, her hands flying through the air with expertise. Sarah nodded and translated Bridgette's words back to Adam aloud. God Bridgette hated this stupid communication problem and she hated having to hear her words come out of someone else's mouth. It was insanely frustrating and it was even worse knowing that there was nothing she could do about it. Still, she managed to force another smile out as her dad stepped forward to give her a quick hug before exiting the room. And then she was alone.

It was strange, this whole isolation thing. When Bridgette had first found out about the cancer, she locked herself in her room and didn't come out for several very long hours simply because she couldn't bare to look at anyone. She'd even shoved all of her mirrors under her bed so she wouldn't have to look at herself. But a few days later she realised she could actually lose her voice and suddenly she was running around catching up with everyone she could think of. She didn't tell everyone about the fact that she had cancer in her throat because that was a bit of a downer but she talked a hell of a lot and made sure to surround herself with people because being alone meant being stuck with only her thoughts and she'd rather stay sane thanks. But then the treatments began and Bridgette was back into her desperate need for isolation which remained to even today. Now that she required another person to translate her words, or at least something to write with whenever she wanted to say something, it was easier to just be alone. Sure it was depressing but it was better than being tortured by everyone else's voices reminding her that they could do what she no longer could.

Bridgette stared longingly out of the window and watched the cars flying by on the road. Lucky people who were allowed to go out into the world. She was stuck in this hospital for now. Wrapping her arms around herself, Bridgette pulled herself away from the window and headed over to the door. A few metres down the corridor she could see her father and Sarah sitting on a bench, waiting. They seemed to sense her presence and both hurried over to her. Glancing at his watch, Adam hesitated before speaking. "Alright, uh, Bridgette, I'm going to go have a word with the doctors and Sarah has to head back to the house to make sure the movers haven't come yet but will you be okay on your own for a bit?" Bridgette raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Sarah, her hands moving quickly again. Sarah smiled as she translated. "Bridgette says she'll be fine. She'll be in her room settling in and you don't need to worry but let her know what the doctors say." Bridgette smiled appreciatively at Sarah. "Thankyou." she signed. Sarah nodded and gave her a parting hug before walking off with Adam down the corridor.

And then Bridgette was left alone. Again. Looking up and down the empty corridor, Bridgette wrinkled her nose and then shuffled back into the room. Her room. It looked fairly similar to Bridgette's room back in the cancer centre in New York. This room was a little bare though since she'd only just arrived. Only one way to fix that. So with that, Bridgette zipped open the suitcase lying on the bed and began sorting through it slowly, careful not to exhaust herself too quickly. That cursed cancer seemed to suck all of the energy out of her. You'd think she would be used to the fatigue after two years but she was only getting more frustrated. At least pulling clothes out of a suitcase wasn't too strenuous. Letting out a sigh, Bridgette continued to pull out the clothes and found a few books to sit on the bedside table too. Might as well make it look a little more homey since she'd be spending all of her time here now.

- - - - -

TAGGED TO; open !
TIME/PLACE; midday, early december / valkyrie hospital
CREDITS; format inspired by v-siders. lyrics by carrie underwood
OUTFIT; nothing too flash.
NOTES; woo first bridgette thread! anyone feel free to barge in. sorry it's long and lame. still getting the feel of her (: and FYI: the coloured bold italics is what she's saying in sign language. she's not actually talking!

- - - - -

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[Audrey Harper]

AUDREY JAMES HARPER,


TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR
something that will light those ears
sick of all the insinceres
I'M GONNA GIVE ALL MY SECRETS AWAY
• • • • • • •

Had the oncology nurses been the tiniest bit of pleasant to her, this would not have happened. Had the nurses been relatively nice, well, she would have perhaps put in a thought about consequences. But alas, every nurse seemed to have a bamboo ore stuck up their respective Ganges, and thus resulted in rebellion. The pediatric section of the floor had quite the characters, Dax, at eight years of age was a complete and utter bad ass and Audrey was entirely impressed. He was also the only patient in the hospital to also have acute myeloid leukemia, just like her, but he was continually visiting the hospital for the past five years; unlike Audrey whose first hospital stay began three days ago. She was currently sitting comfortably in the wheel chair, her hands lightly stroking the worn rubber wheels, smirking at the chanting of small children. They were all sick, some a little frail, but alas they were all children, proving that her motives weren’t all wrong. Luckily, being the Valkyrie hospital, well, like any hospital really, the halls were luxuriously wide, perfect for wheel chair racing. Nurses hated it, especially if it were children with the help of a certain eighteen year old; it was frowned upon, not illegal. Now at this very moment, Audrey and Dax, in their respective wheel chairs were being urged on, the chanting of children from the ages of seven to fifteen growing rich, ready to go. One of the smallest of the children yelled out “on your marks, go!” and furiously both eight and eighteen year old furious pumped their arms, attempting to get to the other side of the hall before the other. The cheering grew tremendously, Audrey was bound to get in trouble, but it wasn’t like she really cared. What were they going to do to a cancer patient? Exactly, the nurse’s guilt and sympathy would get the best of them. She supposed in some sick way, cancer had its perks, she couldn’t truly be blamed for much, despite the fact that she would be caught red handedly.

As the end of the hall approached, Audrey could faintly see the slight skid marks that were left the last time she had attempted a wheel chair raise. The only flaw in the previous race was that she didn’t calculate the small fact that Mike the nurse was working. He was a nice nurse, practically the only nurse form in the oncology ward that Audrey didn’t hate and vice versa, but the man was built like, well, a brick shit house. The man could have easily become a nasty looking bouncer at a club or a body builder, but he was a nurse, an epic nurse at that. However, he was a no-bullshit kind of guy, and her idea of fun in the form of racing did not particularly sit well with Mike. But as Dax shot racing forward, inches in front of her, in her peripheral vision she saw a shadow, a large, wide shadow. Oh shit.

Mike’s movements were quick, as he snatched Dax’s wheelchair with one hand and placing his foot strategically to stop Audrey as well. In the background she heard someone yell out, “Run!” and the moment she turned to take a gander backwards, all the kids had vanished, leaving a trace of hurried footsteps until all was quiet again. Fuck, they ran for it. “A nurse will be here in a second to give you some alternative activity, Audrey.” Mike said, trying to contain a smile as he rolled Dax back into his room. Crap. They were going to make her try to be friends or a guiding mentor or shit like that, weren’t they? Her face instantly fell, her sallow complexion accentuated by her lack of approval. It was a younger nurse, Margaret, that began to roll Audrey in the opposite direction of her room, the faint ‘click clack‘ of the wheels gliding over the seams of the tiled floor provided perfect symphony as the nurse began to explain about a new girl who checked in. She used to be on Broadway, she never spoke a word, blah blah blah. Information Audrey didn‘t want to know of, she had no desire to become best friends with some twenty two year old, even if she was closer to Aud‘s age than most of the other patients here. Angrily exhaling through her nose, she folded her hands in her lap, trying to think of a way to get out of this, “I don‘t want to socialize! I want to remain a recluse, only to stir riots into the younger generations, why is that so wrong?” She complained, her brows furrowed together as she began to gnaw on her bottom lip. What the fuck was this? She was here to get better not to make a new friend, what kind of bull was that? Granted that she was friends with almost all the children, even if she didn’t like children, but they were all cool here. Someone around her age would most likely be someone she loathed, someone who was a complete bitch or something. Regardless of the girl’s complaining and ranting, the nurse dumped her right in the dead center of the room, facing a blonde with a pretty scarf. At least she was pretty in a classic sort of way, she thought as the nurse introduced them “Bridgette, this patient knows how to sign also, I thought you might have some company.“ Margaret tried to be the empathetic, nice nurse, trying to bring people together. What. A. Skank.

But wait, knows how to sign? It finally sank in. Thank the high divine powers that the new girl knew how to sign, this was going to be potentially entertaining, “Hi, I‘m Audrey, this nurse is a whore.”

[/I][/color] She signed towards Bridgette as she crossed her legs, still sitting in the wheel chair. The nurse asked what Audrey had just signed as subtle suspicion could be heard in the health professional’s voice. Audrey smiled, artificially sweet, “I said that you‘re a wonderful person, Peggy, now can you leave us alone for a while? I think I might enjoy Miss Halliwell’s company.” The nurse nodded, immediately exiting as Audrey turned back to Bridgette. “No really, she has more diseases than what should be legally possible for a health care provider.”[/I][/color] She smirked, her bitter, cruel verbatim picking up through sign language. God, she hated this place more and more each day, but perhaps talking with someone her own age… perhaps she might even be able to act normal, though she highly doubted it now. But Audrey tried to be nice, she was trying this thing where she wasn’t a complete and utter psycho, somehow trying to get some good karma coming her way by not making people cry, “So, Bridge, how long are you here for?”[/I][/color]
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• • • • • • •

NOTES yay, so bold italics in colour is audrey signing, bold is her talking and italics are people talking.
COUNT 1136 words
TAGGED bridge!
ATTIRE yay for comfort.
CREDITS format and graphics to yours truly.
LYRICS "secrets" by onerepublic

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[Bridgette Halliwell]

BRIDGETTE HALLIWELL,
WINDOWS AND ROOMS THAT I'M PASSIN THROUGH THIS
IS JUST A STOP ON THE WAY TO WHERE I'M GOING I'M NOT
afraid because I know this is my temporary home

- - - - -

Two years could go by extremely quickly for some people. For someone taking a two year trip around the world, those two years probably flew by and at the end they would be claiming it felt like just a week. For a successful student graduating high school, the last two years of their school life probably raced right past them. Two years could go by extremely quickly if you were having a good time. There was a logical explanation for this of course. If you were having a good time and enjoying yourself, you weren't concerned with the time. You didn't sit down and stare at the clock as every minute ticked by excruciatingly slowly. Not like Bridgette Halliwell. For Bridgette, the past two years had gone by about as slowly as you could ever imagine. But that was to be expected of course because she was having the complete opposite of a good time. What else would you expect from a cancer patient? Bridgette didn't have anything to help her have a good time so instead she was stuck inside hospitals twenty four hours a day, watching every second tick by on the big white clocks. Her days all blurred into each other, all the same procedures. The same doctors. The same grave looks as they turned away from her. It was all the same every day. So much so that it was hard to separate each day from the next in the end. It was the same routines and Bridgette absolutely loathed it. This wasn't a life. This was...well Bridgette didn't know what it was but it sucked. The best part of her day was when she got to sleep and escape for a few hours. This was probably why she'd been on suicide watch temporarily a few months back after she mentioned this to her counselor.

Some days stood out to Bridgette though. One day in particular was the very first day. The day this whole drama began. The day she was officially diagnosed with laryngeal cancer. She probably should have been expecting it since there were plenty of signs but Bridgette assumed it was just glandular fever or a bad cold or even a throat infection. Nothing too life threatening. She had been pushing herself a fair bit with all of the partying and rehearsals so it was natural that she would get a little run down. Then there was that urgent phone call from the doctor, requesting that she come in and talk about the test results as soon as possible. It wasn't until Bridgette was sitting in the doctor's small office with her father that she realised this could be more serious although she had no idea how much. But something in the doctor's face told her that this was no cold or throat infection. It was much, much worse. "You have cancer." Three of the ugliest words in the English dictionary when put together, surely. Cancer. The ugliest word by far. Bridgette went into shock after hearing those words. She barely even remembered the rest of that day apart from the doctor's distant confirmations that it was treatable and then he went into a long rant about her different options but Bridgette wasn't really listening anymore. She was too busy thinking of all the parties she'd gone to and smoked at, and all the shots she'd downed, thinking no harm could come out of that. And thinking about how that had ended up.

How had that ended up exactly? Well as a result of Bridgette's reckless behaviour and a wave of extremely bad luck, she was now stuck going in and out of hospital for these last two years and she no longer had a voice. Looking back now, Bridgette was quite certain that if she could, she would take back every single party she went to. It just wasn't worth all of this. Her dad had now had to pay thousands of dollars for her treatments and several of her cheques from her successful Broadway career had now been blown on treatments too. And to top it all off, it now turned out that the treatments weren't even working properly anymore. Thus, here she was in Valkyrie Hospital which supposedly had one of the top cancer treatment facilities which would be able to figure out what was wrong with Bridgette now. And they could help treat her depression too supposedly. Right. That wasn't going anywhere until the cancer went away so it was a bit of a lost cause there but hey, they could try. Bridgette doubted anything was going to be able to cure that since she'd been going to concealing for months now and hadn't felt an ounce of change. Well apart from feeling worse as she struggled to communicate with the counselor through her sign translator Sarah. Didn't they understand that the more she watched other people talk, the worse she felt? Well of course they didn't because there was no way they could understand. They all talked like it was nothing. Easier than breathing. Once upon a time Bridgette had been exactly like that. Pushing out big notes on stage like it was completely natural and shouting her lungs hoarse at all the after-parties. And just all parties in general.

As Bridgette continued to slowly unpack her belongings, she paused every now and then to stop and stare out of the window, her body already feeling exhausted from a few moments of work. After a quick rest, Bridgette resumed her unpacking, pulling a few cardigans out of the suitcase with a sigh. Most of her wardrobe had to be left back in New York since nothing really fit her frail figure anymore. She was left with a bunch of daggy tops and track-pants. Not that she needed to impress anyone since she was in a hospital after all and everyone else around her was sick too so there was no point faking it. Still Bridgette wished she could have brought her favourite jeans at least but they slipped right off her hips these days. Shame. As Bridgette pulled a few t-shirts out of the suitcase she heard voices approaching along with the sound of wheels clacking on the hospital tiles. A wheelchair by the sounds of it. Bridgette knew that sound too well after being stuck in one for most of the last two years before they finally let her start walking around again. A few seconds later a young nurse was wheeling another girl wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt, who looked a few years younger than herself into the centre of the room. Well excuse me but would it kill the nurse to knock? The door had been left open but still. It's called manners and apparently doctors and nurses lacked them quite badly. But whatever. Looking the brunette up and down, Bridgette immediately recognised her appearance. Another cancer patient. What, were they trying to make her feel more at home by throwing other sick people in her face? No offense but no thanks. “Bridgette, this patient knows how to sign also, I thought you might have some company.“

Oh well that explained everything. Still the girl looked like she wanted to be there about as much as Bridgette. When the nurse mentioned signing though, the girl perked up. Bridgette raised her eyebrows as the girl's hands moved quickly. She bit her lip to hide a smile and nodded, letting her hands sign back easily. "Hi Audrey. I completely agree." But then Audrey spoke to the nurse. Oh. So she could actually talk unlike Bridgette. She just happened to know sign language. Damn, Bridgette had been hoping to find someone in the same boat as herself. Well that was better than nothing. As the nurse exited the room Bridgette gave her a brief fake smile before turning to Audrey who she was already beginning to like.“So, Bridge, how long are you here for?” Bridgette pulled a face at this question and shrugged. "Until they figure out what the hell is wrong with me. I stopped responding to treatment back in New York. How about you?" Bridgette wondered what the nurse had told Audrey about her, if anything. Audrey probably thought Bridgette was some mute freak. Which she supposed she was right now. Stupid cancer. Stupid stupid cancer sticks known as cigarettes. Stupid Bridgette. Stupid everything really. Oh she was such a little ray of sunshine.

- - - - -

TAGGED TO; audrey harper !
TIME/PLACE; midday, early december / valkyrie hospital
CREDITS; format inspired by v-siders. lyrics by carrie underwood
OUTFIT; nothing too flash.
NOTES; ick this is a fair bit late but woo i finally got some bridgette muse. i think her and audrey are going to get along juuust fine (:

- - - - -

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