the bombs explode */

[Reanne Halper]

. . . .Reanne Blue Halper sat in her hospital room because of something that had occurred the previous day while she’d been picking up her next set of meds. She always could tell when a seizure was coming, she could just feel it. Normally they weren’t that bad and would leave her fully functional; rapid blinking, twitching, something stupid like walking in circles or rewashing the same dish over and over again until it was over. Most of them worked that way, nothing serious just strange to those at a third person standing. Every now and again, however, Reanne would end up with a bad one, one that would leave her crippled on the floor and in need of immediate attention. They didn’t happen often, maybe every few months or so, sometimes less. They’d become a lot less frequent since her childhood days before she’d became a teenager. Back then they were practically a daily occurrence. They faded though, becoming weekly, and then monthly, and now it was around four a year, sometimes more. Four was actually her record number for the least she’d had in one year. This year she was at four as well, and with December rolling to an end and welcoming in the New Year, she thought she might be starting a pattern. Maybe next year she’d end up with three, or less. Maybe none. It was said epilepsy could simply vanish over the years, leave the body. It wasn’t really known, what caused the disease, and it was especially mysterious when there was no other relatives who’d previously had the disease, like in Reanne’s case. Her doctors all expected hers to eventually be nonexistent. She’d really gotten much better since the day she was born. Up until she was around fourteen years old, she’d have to be monitored and followed everywhere she went because the drastic seizures were a common part of her life. At times she’d even experienced multiple within a day, though it wasn’t all too likely and happened only a few times. In other words, being an epileptic defined most of Reanne Halper’s life. It decided her career, her ability to get a license (which she couldn’t, by the way), having to inform people of it, frequent trips to the hospital… everything.

. . . .Anyway, just the previous day, December 24th, 2007, “Christmas Eve,” Reanne had been dropping by the hospital to pick up her medication that helped her seizures, and then it happened. A big one. She didn’t remember much after falling to the floor, in fact, she’d blacked out at that point. But it began with that feeling of being unable to speak, like she was choking on her words, and then she felt her knees give out, and then everything went black. She wasn’t sure what happened after she’d lost consciousness, but all she knew was that she’d been walking towards the exit. When she came to, she was in a hospital room, a hospital gown, and had an IV plugged into her arm. Everything was blurry and at first it didn’t click where she was. It was around seven at night when she’d woken up for good, and she knew she’d been at the hospital at nine in the morning when she was leaving. She had, however, been woken up briefly since then multiple time, but was never conscious long enough to have anything explained to her. So she was confused. Then her nurse walked in, informed her of what happened, and told her she’d have to be hospitalized for a few days. Well, that part wasn’t bad. In all honesty, Reanne loved being in the hospital. She loved being taken care of and seeing these doctor’s who genuinely cared about her. It was funny though, while most people had only one or two doctors tops, Reanne had many. She had a pediatrician, a neurosurgeon, nerve specialists, physical therapists, doctors who worked with mobility, the ones trying to find cures for epilepsy, and more here and there. There were so many things contributing to epilepsy that she received attention from specialists from all fields. She’d only lived in Valkyrie for six, seven months now, and they all happened to refer to her like they’d known her for her whole life. It was nice, really. This time was a little different, though. Reanne felt guilty that anybody was coming in to check up on her. It was Christmas Eve. They should be at home with their families, enjoying themselves or something like that. She even felt bad for the nurses who had to check on her periodically to make sure she was doing well. It wasn’t like she could tell them to go home though, so she suppressed her feelings, falling asleep again. It really took a lot out of her when those seizures happened, and it took a while for her body to recover. She’d hit her head pretty hard though, receiving a concussion and a gash on her forehead near her hair line, so it probably wouldn’t scar too bad, but this required having to be woken up every thirty minutes to an hour. And this didn’t help with sleep, which she really needed. By five the next morning, she was done trying to sleep.

. . . .Oh joy. Holidays. She was really starting to think clearly for the first time since prior to the seizure yesterday. ”Merry Christmas, she muttered to herself sarcastically. ”Excuse me?” a voice came from near her monitors. Reanne started a bit, but realized it was just an intern adjusting things who she hadn’t even noticed. She was a young nurse, very pretty, by the name of Maycee Whitholmes. She was one of Reanne’s more constant visitors, doing nurse work for her probably trying to kiss up to her superiors. Either way though, Reanne liked her. She was one of the ones who was most honest with her and didn’t sugar coat anything. ”I said Merry Christmas,” Reanne half smiled, putting more sincerity into the way she said the words. Maycee smiled brilliantly, ”Oh. Well you too Reese,” she replied. She was one of the few people who used nicknames of Reanne, and one of the few people Reanne didn’t mind when she did. ”What are you doing today?” the teenager asked, mainly trying to figure out if Maycee was gonna be stuck here all day long. ”Well,” she began, ”I’ve been in here with you all night having to wake you up. Not that you probably remember. So I’m headed home in a few. My fiancée is back in town for the rest of the week so we’re going to do something special.” Actually, Reanne really hadn’t realized it was Maycee who had been waking her up all night long. She felt a new pang of guilt, but it nearly vanished when the woman informed her she would be leaving for the rest of the day, ”Good. Have fun. Don’t come back.” Reanne offered a real smile and Maycee snorted. ”Sure thing, kid. By the way, I went down to the school and grabbed some of your stuff from your dorm yesterday. Clothes, a guitar. And for the record, you need new clothes. I refused to bring any of those holey pajamas or t-shirts and the ugly jeans.” Reanne just smiled, ”Thanks.” See? This was what she loved about the hospital. This intern who was forced to hang out with her was probably the closest friend she had in this world, which was odd considering it was probably just considered and acquaintance ship to other people. But the woman had gone out of her way to get Reanne’s stuff for her, for which she was even more grateful. Just the idea of having her guitar made her feel better. ”All right, I’m out. See ya later Reese, call me if you need anything. I put my number in your phone.” Reanne laughed without humor. Like she was going to bring her back here on Christmas or while her fiancée was back from Europe or wherever he went. She nodded though, and Maycee left.

. . . .Well, she was sentenced to bed rest for the remainder of the day, and tomorrow, and probably the day after that. She sat for a long time, reading her battered copy of Pride and Prejudice that Maycee thoughtfully brought over. She slept more, not having to be awake. Around two o’clock, she was dying of just laying there. She decided to get out of bed and be a little rebellious for once in her life. She stuck on some of the clothes Maycee brought her, and basically swore the sweats weren’t hers and that Maycee bought them, considering there was a price tag still dangling from them. She considered it a Christmas present and pulled them on. She crumpled up the hospital gown and threw it in her bed, and gently took out her IV, which made her want to puke. After that though, she shoved her book into her sweatshirt pocket and grabbed her guitar case, slinging it over her shoulder. Nobody was supposed to check up on her for about thirty more minutes, so she had time to escape. She’d only done this one other time, and that time she’d had permission. This was probably the closest Reanne Halper ever came to breaking rules. She looked down each end of the hallway. It seemed quiet enough. And then she made her escape, walking towards the elevators and past the receptionist who was looking through some files with his back turned. She got into the elevator and pressed the buttons that would take her to the floor she wanted. After the elevator doors closed, she wasn’t worried about getting caught anymore. Then again, one of her many doctors might be wandering around, but she was hoping that wasn’t the case. When the heavy doors separated again, she slid out and turned the corner sharply, and finally after a few more minutes of getting a little turned around in the huge hospital, she found her destination. The child’s wing for cancer patients. Reanne didn’t think there would be many of them her, but to her surprise there were at least fifteen kids in the room where they could play and socialize for a little that had tv and toys. There were a few kids she’d visited in here every now and again, and some of them ran up and gave her a hug when they saw her. The nurses didn’t ask any questions because they’d recognized her. It was odd how much more comfortable she felt with six year olds rather than other sixteen, seventeen year olds. They were just so much more, approachable, per se. It saddened her to see how many were here alone without their parents, and then there were plenty who’s parents were there and playing hot wheel’s cars with them or barbies. Reanne sat down next to a girl she’d recognized from previous visits who lived with her aunt, who was currently not with her. Her name was Isabella Cresta. Bella Cresta. It sounded like a name out of a doctor seus book. Reanne pulled out her guitar and tuned the one string that had gotten out of place. Then she strummed a few chords. Some of the kids clapped and ran over to sit in front of her, cross legged with bright eyes. Some nurses wheeled the kids in wheel chairs over or opened the door to the room so the sound would echo to the kids in their beds still.

. . . .Lord Almighty, Reanne would never have done this for anybody else, ever. She was so secretive about her music. Then again, she wasn’t playing anything personal, nothing she’d written. She was just going to play lullabies and children’s songs. She started off with “If You’re Happy and You Know It,” and then moved on to some Hannah Montana song she’d preferred over the others, primarily for the little girls sake. She played more here and there, sang a bit, and also let the kids sing. She started playing slower songs though, switching from the energetic ones to the lullabies. It was almost amusing, the thought of her nurses or doctors running around, looking for her, probably furious that she wasn’t there. She grimaced slightly, thinking of how she’d probably be in trouble when they finally figured out where she was. She ignored that for now though. It was Christmas, and this was what she was giving herself for Christmas. Oh lord, it was Christmas! She’d totally spaced it. Some kids had fallen asleep and been taken back to their rooms, and other ones had come out. Reanne grinned at them all and began some familiar tunes, Christmas songs. She let them sing for “Jingle Bells” and allowed them to choose other ones they’d liked. She moved on to one of her favorites, “Silver Bells,” and sang to them. If there was anything she could have done on Christmas, this is what she chose to do. It was better than hanging out alone in her hospital room or enduring the phone calls her mother kept sending her way, trying to be there for her after the fifteen years of abandonment she’d provided. No, she preferred these kids whose Christmases weren’t as amazing as they should be. Anything to make theirs better was something she planned on doing. The idea of a Christmas party for them tonight was already blooming in her mind, but then again, maybe the nurses and doctors already came up with that. She planned on sticking around until her bed time though, even if she was caught.

tagged . . . . whoever !
status . . . . complete !
clothes . . . . this + guitar !
notes . . . . reanne muse :D !
lyrics . . . . if no one will listen—kelly clarkson !
credit . . . . me !