House fanfic. SNEAK PEEK.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Hopefully this won't turn out like Simplitate. I actually just wrote that to get it out of my system. I might associate it with something else, maybe. I have a new craze for the GOLDEN GLOBE WINNING (yes, i know) HIT SHOW HOUSE. I'll mainly use Chase in this part, but later on, I'll (hopefully) get down to the knitty-gritty. Enjoy!

Submitted: January 22, 2009

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Submitted: January 22, 2009



Bridget walked outside to the parking lot with Sandra close beside her. The two approached the small Toyota car beside one Hummer and one Jeep. As Sandra jingled the keys around hoping to find the one for the car, she noticed two men, one with blonde hair, blue eyes, small but plump lips and a long-ish face, the other with an African-American ethnicity, a round face and facial hair. They both wore doctors’ coats. It just so happened that it was their Jeep parked beside their car. Bridget moved aside so that the blondie could get to the passenger door.

“’Scuse me, “ he said. It was obvious he had Australian ethnicity. His accent was somewhat thick, but not deep.
Bridge moved aside, closer to the car. “Sure,” she said quietly. As soon as blondie opened his door, files fulls of papers began spilling out onto the wet asphalt.
“Shoot!” he muttered under his breath. Both he and Bridge quickly bent over and the collected papers before they could float around.
“Here,” she said, handing them to him. She looked at his coat. “Robert Chase” was stitched into the fabric.
Robert smiled. “Thanks,” he said.
Bridge tried slightly smiling back. “No problem,”
“Let’s go, Bliss!” Sandra called from the driver’s seat. She’d never noticed that she had already unlocked the car, loading it with the groceries and was in the driver’s seat. Without another word, Bridget opened the door and slipped inside the car.
It was soon before long until someone said something at the red stop light.
“Who was that you were talking to in the parking lot?” Sandra asked with her hands still on the wheel and her head turned towards Bridget.
“He dropped his papers and I just helped him pick them up,” she said without moving any other muscles except for her mouth and tongue. The two sat still in the car for another minute or so until Bridget spoke again. “The light’s green.” She pointed out.
Sandra glanced forward, pressed on the gas pedal and glanced back at Bridget. “Bliss, you need to learn to talk to people,” she began.
Bridget groaned. “Please don’t do this to me again. Quit trying to be my mom, please.”
Sandra ignored her. “I’m not asking for much! I just wish you weren’t so alone!”
The two looked at each other. One with worry the other with anxiety and a touch of anger. But that was soon to change when the anxiety and anger turned into extreme fright.
It happened quickly for Sandra, since she hadn’t seen it coming, but for Bridget, every second felt like a minute and every minute an hour. The Mack label in the front of the truck had rushed forward towards the tiny Toyota within seconds. Bridget saw it just feet, inches, centimeters, and millimeters away from the car before it finally hit. The collision was extraordinarily amazing yet gut wrenching. Small and large pieces of glass scattered in the air. Bits and pieces of the car hood flew across the intersection. Both Sandra and Bridget were continuously tossed around in their seats like rag dolls, until the air bags deployed. There was a sudden crunching sound when they went off and it wasn’t from Bridget. Blood suddenly splattered on her face and she was pushed back into her seat due to the force of the airbag. The car had tipped over and Bridget let out a scream and movedbehind her airbag as metal made contact with concrete. She then fell forward from behind the gigantic balloon, unconscious and stained with Sandra’s and her own blood.
Nothing was ever the same.
“There are two deaths. One is physical. One is mental or emotional. Physical death is when the heart ceases and quits pumping blood out to the body. Mental or emotional death is when someone has no life to live anymore. Nothing to live for. No reason to breathe. NOTHING.
Bridget felt a sudden force on her chest. The force was soft, yet rough. Her eyes slowly opened and her vision was becoming clearer and clearer.
Robert Chase from the parking lot was leaning over her bloody body doing CPR.
“She’s conscious!” he called back to someone behind him that wasn’t within Bridget’s vision. “We’re going to take you to a hospital. Everything’s gonna be alright.”
Bridget ignored him. “Where’s Sandra? Where is she?”

Robert stayed silent.

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