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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod,Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productionsand used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and noinfringement is intended.
The song Total Eclipse Of The Heart belongs to:
- written by Jim Steinman
- #1 hit for Bonnie Tyler in 1983
- as recorded by Bonnie Tyler
*using without persmission! SORRY!*
Total Eclipse Of The Heart
part I
by Nicolette
********
(Turn around)
Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never comin''round
********
Miss Parker was sitting in her office, thinking that today was definitelynot her day. She had awakened with a bad taste in her mouth and asick feeling in her stomach. She looked, for what seemed to be thethousandth time, at her mother’s watch. She’d worn it every day sinceJarod had returned it to her. It was already after 10 in the morningand still there was no sign from Broots or Sydney.
She had tried to call them both, but hadn’t reached either of them.
She continued to stare at the watch, still unable to believe thatshe had it back. Another piece from her past back where it belonged. Her gaze swept from the watch over her desk, coming to rest on the picturethat she kept on it. Every time she touched that picture of her motherin its heavy silver frame it seemed to calm her down. She alwaysfelt like her mother was telling her to keep fighting, that she wantedher daughter to stay alive, to somehow win against the evil of the Centre.
But on days like today her reasons to fight seemed to fade away-----todayshe couldn’t come up with a single reason to follow her mother’s wishes. The silence and the darkness inside of the Centre were no help in her currentframe of mind either.
A small silver object on the desk caught her attention. She reachedout and took the thimble into her hand, turning it around thoughtfully. God how did he always manage to do that? She wondered if it was thereal thimble from the her childhood game. Well, if he had managedto find Broots’ old GI Joe, why shouldn’the have been able to find her old thimble?
There's no place like home. Everyone deserves one, so why don't youleave me alone and let me find mine
Her mother’s house had always been her home, but lately it was onlyan empty shell of a home. Nothing was left of what made a home out of ahouse. That had been made clear to her the day Tommy had died. No, she corrected herself sadly, since he had been killed.
Face it Parker, no matter what you do, they will never let you go.
God she still missed Tommy! With him she had felt loved for thefirst time in-----she could not even remember in how long. He hadwanted to be with her because she was herself, not because of a false imageof her in his mind, not because of power she might wield. She haddared to dream an impossible dream. And then her dream had been rippedaway from her.
She would never make that mistake again. What had her father toldher? It was all about survival, but why? Surviving only madesense when there was a reason to survive, and she no longer had one. Okay, that wasn’t quite true, there was one; the silent promise she gaveher mother every morning.
No place like home. Nobody who had ever been really involved withthe Centre would be able to have a home in the fullest sense of the word. There was no refuge, not for her, and not for anybody else. The Centrewould never call off the search for Jarod. If he was dead they wouldhave to see his dead body to prove it before they would believe he wasunreachable.
She tuned the thimble in her hand and finally flipped it into the air. She observed it flying up into the air, tuning and over and over again,and then finally going straight down to crash onto the floor. Itmade two abortive attempts to fly again, but succumbed to gravity at last. With a final turn it came to rest in the corner.
The irony was that her life was so like the flight of that thimble. It had taken the same turns and up and down…. But now she too waslying on the hard, cold floor, not moving at all; a dead figure in thegame.
The shrill ringing from her cell phone shocked her out of her dark daydreams. ‘Please, let it be anything but a new lead on Jarod!’ She prayedsilently.
"What?" She demanded, not in the mood for any games.
"Miss Parker?" An unfamiliar female voice asked.
"Who wants to know?" She snapped back.
"I am sorry, Ma’am, this is the Blue Cove Memorial Hospital."
"And what do you want from me? If you want a donation, you shouldknow you get my check every year just before Christmas."
"So you are Miss Parker?" The woman asked, finally becoming irritatedby her continuing abrasiveness. She was accustomed to worried questionsabout what had happened, who was hurt, etc., but never had she been grilledlike this.
"This is Miss Parker’s cell phone, so I think you must have reachedMiss Parker!" She hissed back, losing the last bit of patience shehad left.
The woman on the phone left sorry for the little girl waiting severalrooms down the hall. She would now need all the love she could get,and from her long years doing this job, the hospital social worker knewthat the woman she was speaking to was not going to be able to give thatlittle girl what she needed most. With a deep sigh, that she carefullykept to herself, she pushed her thoughts away, and reminded herself thatshe had a job to do, and that she couldn’t rescue the world.
"We have a little girl here, her name is Debbie Broots. We gotyour number from a necklace she was wearing. It had a pendant witha some phone number to call in the case of an emergency. Your numberis listed first, so I called you first." She told the other womanwith a calm she was far from feeling; still wondering how anybody couldwant this cold-hearted female to be called to watch over a little girl. She knew this kind of woman too well to believe this story would have ahappy ending.
Miss Parker was too shocked to answer right away. Her mind wasreeling. What had happened now? No wonder Broots wasn’t hereat the moment----surely he was with Debbie-----no, wait! She hadsaid her name was listed first, so that meant….
"Where is Debbie’s father?" Miss Parked asked breathlessly, silentlypraying that everything was OK
"I’m not really sure. I think he was delivered to a hospital thatspecializes in treating burns. You may want to contact the localpolice in this case."
"Then at least tell me how Debbie is!" Miss Parker demanded.
"I am sorry I am not allowed to give that kind of information over thephone, but..." The woman stopped after she heard the audible clickof a cell phone being closed, ending the call.
‘Damn bitch!’ She cursed silently, hoping she wouldn’t be therewhen that woman finally showed up. With a last regretful thoughtfor the little girl down the hall, she grabbed the next file and continuedwith her job.
****
Miss Parker was on her way to the B. C. Memorial hospital where Debbiewas. She tried to focus on the road in front of her, tried to keepfrom worrying. It wasn’t working very well.
First she had tried to reach Sydney, but no matter where she tried,he was nowhere to be found. Next she called the local police department,but the only information they would give her was that there had been afire. Nothing more, damn them!
Finally she had managed to find out which hospital Broots had been takento. Since it was closer than B. C. Memorial she had gone there first.
Now she regretted that choice. How the hell was she goingbe able to tell Debbie that she has lost her father?
Ok now I want to know what you think!
The song Total Eclipse Of The Heart belongs to:
- written by Jim Steinman
- #1 hit for Bonnie Tyler in 1983
- as recorded by Bonnie Tyler
*using without persmission! SORRY!*
part I
by Nicolette
********
(Turn around)
Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never comin''round
********
Miss Parker was sitting in her office, thinking that today was definitelynot her day. She had awakened with a bad taste in her mouth and asick feeling in her stomach. She looked, for what seemed to be thethousandth time, at her mother’s watch. She’d worn it every day sinceJarod had returned it to her. It was already after 10 in the morningand still there was no sign from Broots or Sydney.
She had tried to call them both, but hadn’t reached either of them.
She continued to stare at the watch, still unable to believe thatshe had it back. Another piece from her past back where it belonged. Her gaze swept from the watch over her desk, coming to rest on the picturethat she kept on it. Every time she touched that picture of her motherin its heavy silver frame it seemed to calm her down. She alwaysfelt like her mother was telling her to keep fighting, that she wantedher daughter to stay alive, to somehow win against the evil of the Centre.
But on days like today her reasons to fight seemed to fade away-----todayshe couldn’t come up with a single reason to follow her mother’s wishes. The silence and the darkness inside of the Centre were no help in her currentframe of mind either.
A small silver object on the desk caught her attention. She reachedout and took the thimble into her hand, turning it around thoughtfully. God how did he always manage to do that? She wondered if it was thereal thimble from the her childhood game. Well, if he had managedto find Broots’ old GI Joe, why shouldn’the have been able to find her old thimble?
There's no place like home. Everyone deserves one, so why don't youleave me alone and let me find mine
Her mother’s house had always been her home, but lately it was onlyan empty shell of a home. Nothing was left of what made a home out of ahouse. That had been made clear to her the day Tommy had died. No, she corrected herself sadly, since he had been killed.
Face it Parker, no matter what you do, they will never let you go.
God she still missed Tommy! With him she had felt loved for thefirst time in-----she could not even remember in how long. He hadwanted to be with her because she was herself, not because of a false imageof her in his mind, not because of power she might wield. She haddared to dream an impossible dream. And then her dream had been rippedaway from her.
She would never make that mistake again. What had her father toldher? It was all about survival, but why? Surviving only madesense when there was a reason to survive, and she no longer had one. Okay, that wasn’t quite true, there was one; the silent promise she gaveher mother every morning.
No place like home. Nobody who had ever been really involved withthe Centre would be able to have a home in the fullest sense of the word. There was no refuge, not for her, and not for anybody else. The Centrewould never call off the search for Jarod. If he was dead they wouldhave to see his dead body to prove it before they would believe he wasunreachable.
She tuned the thimble in her hand and finally flipped it into the air. She observed it flying up into the air, tuning and over and over again,and then finally going straight down to crash onto the floor. Itmade two abortive attempts to fly again, but succumbed to gravity at last. With a final turn it came to rest in the corner.
The irony was that her life was so like the flight of that thimble. It had taken the same turns and up and down…. But now she too waslying on the hard, cold floor, not moving at all; a dead figure in thegame.
The shrill ringing from her cell phone shocked her out of her dark daydreams. ‘Please, let it be anything but a new lead on Jarod!’ She prayedsilently.
"What?" She demanded, not in the mood for any games.
"Miss Parker?" An unfamiliar female voice asked.
"Who wants to know?" She snapped back.
"I am sorry, Ma’am, this is the Blue Cove Memorial Hospital."
"And what do you want from me? If you want a donation, you shouldknow you get my check every year just before Christmas."
"So you are Miss Parker?" The woman asked, finally becoming irritatedby her continuing abrasiveness. She was accustomed to worried questionsabout what had happened, who was hurt, etc., but never had she been grilledlike this.
"This is Miss Parker’s cell phone, so I think you must have reachedMiss Parker!" She hissed back, losing the last bit of patience shehad left.
The woman on the phone left sorry for the little girl waiting severalrooms down the hall. She would now need all the love she could get,and from her long years doing this job, the hospital social worker knewthat the woman she was speaking to was not going to be able to give thatlittle girl what she needed most. With a deep sigh, that she carefullykept to herself, she pushed her thoughts away, and reminded herself thatshe had a job to do, and that she couldn’t rescue the world.
"We have a little girl here, her name is Debbie Broots. We gotyour number from a necklace she was wearing. It had a pendant witha some phone number to call in the case of an emergency. Your numberis listed first, so I called you first." She told the other womanwith a calm she was far from feeling; still wondering how anybody couldwant this cold-hearted female to be called to watch over a little girl. She knew this kind of woman too well to believe this story would have ahappy ending.
Miss Parker was too shocked to answer right away. Her mind wasreeling. What had happened now? No wonder Broots wasn’t hereat the moment----surely he was with Debbie-----no, wait! She hadsaid her name was listed first, so that meant….
"Where is Debbie’s father?" Miss Parked asked breathlessly, silentlypraying that everything was OK
"I’m not really sure. I think he was delivered to a hospital thatspecializes in treating burns. You may want to contact the localpolice in this case."
"Then at least tell me how Debbie is!" Miss Parker demanded.
"I am sorry I am not allowed to give that kind of information over thephone, but..." The woman stopped after she heard the audible clickof a cell phone being closed, ending the call.
‘Damn bitch!’ She cursed silently, hoping she wouldn’t be therewhen that woman finally showed up. With a last regretful thoughtfor the little girl down the hall, she grabbed the next file and continuedwith her job.
****
Miss Parker was on her way to the B. C. Memorial hospital where Debbiewas. She tried to focus on the road in front of her, tried to keepfrom worrying. It wasn’t working very well.
First she had tried to reach Sydney, but no matter where she tried,he was nowhere to be found. Next she called the local police department,but the only information they would give her was that there had been afire. Nothing more, damn them!
Finally she had managed to find out which hospital Broots had been takento. Since it was closer than B. C. Memorial she had gone there first.
Now she regretted that choice. How the hell was she goingbe able to tell Debbie that she has lost her father?
Ok now I want to know what you think!
