U N D E R    E D I T I N G

~*~

«Who are you?»

Oh, she would've loved to know.

«What's your name?»

Did she need to have a name?

«Who are your parents?»

Slowly and slightly, her mouth fell open, her big blue eyes staring in wonder as she left three words escape her mouth «What are parents?» Genuine confusion echoed in her small voice.

The man and woman exchanged a glance, eyes wide with transparent concern swimming in them. Leaving the little, confused child to wonder what had she said wrong.

«Amnesia. Probably got hurt, perhaps slammed her head or fell... Tell me dear, do you remember something about you getting hurt? Did you slam your head?»

«Or did someone hurt you?» The man in a white overall coat asked, he and the lady next to him, scanning her face as if she were a museum's reliquie.

That was when the little child realized something: there was a war.

A war inside her head. Different emotions battling, causing her head to almost to explode. She wanted to shout and break something, cry in both frustration and sadness. Because she felt like something had been taken away from her.

Something so precious that it made her life. She opened her mouth to say something. To tell them she had to get back home, she had to save her family, but then it just...

Snap.

Disappeared.

It's like one part of her brain that remembered, stopped working, leaving her there, alone.

So the little brunette girl closed her mouth and shook her head.

The male doctor pursed his lips, staring at her in complete desperation. «Do at least know your name?» he attempted, one last glimpse of hope flashing in his eyes.

Her little face lit up, her already big blue eyes widening even further. Yes, yes! I do! It has to do something with a stone! Yes, I know it! It's Crysta— her face fell, and all of her thoughts vanished.

Like a turned off megaphone, she shut down, her mouth closing. Then, once again, she shook her head.

That's how her new life began.

Taking pity on her, the two doctors let the girl go soon enough, for they understood that their questions just confused her further.

They sat her in a police car, wrapping an orange cozy blanket around her. And there she sat, motionlessly.

People rushed around her, more cars arrived and even more weirded glances were thrown her way. Because the way the little girl sat seemed simply inhuman: her back straight, her unnaturally blue eyes fixed – she looked like a superhuman of some sort.

But she ignored all of the states, and sat still, gripping the leather seats of the police car.

It was dark, and the glimpsing lights of the now three cars were the only source of illumination. The little girl sat, and her eyes looked on, into a world no one but her could see.

She felt empty. Like a jar of marmellate that was suddenly emptied, then broken. She sat there, so little... then why did she feel so old? Why did she feel like she had already lived a life of her own? And why, why, did a tear slide down her cheek?

«Hey, kid!»

Her head snapped into the direction of the voice. A tall policeman, one whom had arrived earlier before, was making his way to the car from the alley where she had been not long ago found. The little girl moved her inhumanly-colored eyes to the person who was following behind him. A young, severe looking woman, in a long coat and a very strange hat sitting on her head.

The little girl held her chin high as they approached her, the policeman placing his hands on his hips. «This is Caroline Kuture, she'll be taking you to an orphanage.»

The little girl frowned. «What is an... orphanage?»

She didn't fail to catch the glance the two exchanged, before looking back at the girl who sat in the small, dark car.

«It's a place where kids without parents stay.» Mrs Caroline Kuture spoke to her for the first time «Like a home. We're all like a big family there.»

That was when she first heard it. The voice in her head, that would've haunted her brain for the rest of her life. It was an echo, like a very loud shout that though came out faint for it was shouted from a long distance.

"Liars" it said.

At that time, the little girl though it was normal, that that voice was her talking to herself in her mind. Everyone does that. But oh, she couldn't have been more wrong.

«Why do I need to go there?» she instead faintly asked.

The woman found it somehow really amusing, while the policeman stared on, bored. Mrs Caroline began explaining but the little one soon found out she didn't care.

She didn't really how it happened, but she soon found herself strapped to the front seat of a little red FIAT.

"London" –that's what Mrs. Caroline called the city– was alive even at night. Lights were everywhere, illuminating an invisible path in the dark.

Wherever you looked, was bright. Yet why did the little girl feel like it was so dark.

I remember more light... a lot of light...

Pain like a bullet shot through her temple and she hissed, stopping the blabbering Mrs Caroline and causing her to look down at the little girl from the road.

«They told me you don't remember your name.» she spoke.

«Mh-mh...» The little girl hummed, keeping her gaze low.

«How about we give you one?»

The little girl's eyes widened in shock and she looked over at Mrs Caroline. «You can do that?»

Mrs Caroline chuckled. «Of course! How about... hm...» she glanced around as they passed shops, trying to come up with a name. «Kitty? Mary? Molly? Hmm... Chloe? No?»

The little girl just kept staring.

So Mrs Caroline glanced down at her charging phone, her Pride and Prejudice wallpaper catching her eye. And that was how she came up with the name «Elizabeth!»

The little girl straightened up. «Elizabeth...» she tested. It's taste was unfamiliar to her tongue, and she knew for sure that that wasn't her real name. But, she remembered faintly, that people back where she came from –whatever that was– kept their real names a secret of some sort, and used other names for everyday life. So with a «Yes... I like that.» from the little one, Mrs Caroline smiled.

«Fantastic. And how about... Smith? As a surname? There are a lot of Smiths, it's a very common surname.»

«Yeah. Sure.» Elizabeth shrugged before turning to the window and leaning her cheek on its frame, to observe the rolling city behind the glass.

She tried to remember. But as she put effort on her brain, a thick pain shot through her head once again. Her first, though certainly not the last, headache.

It didn't take them long to arrive at the orphanage. As soon as the little one stepped in the building, she straight away felt like she didn't belong there and that she was going to become an outcast.

Later Mrs Caroline left her in her room. She sat on her bed and stared on, nowhere in particular, with thought swirling in her mind like a fish out of water.

The room wasn't really big. It had a desk, a chair, a nightstand, a closet and a bed. Not like Elizabeth need anything else.

Taking a deep breath, she dived back on her bed. Only to have pain shooting through her back.

Bolting upright because of the dolor, she reached for the object in the pocket of her jeans and took it out.

It was little and round, metallic yet warm, all too big for her all too little palm.

Elizabeth Smith stared at the pocket watch in her hand, observing its cravings. Stars, galaxies, planets and words. She knew they were words but couldn't remember what they meant.

Somehow the stars and galaxies were the only thing she could remember.

She could imagine the stars, somewhere up there, waltzing gracefully around the galaxies, hand in hand, dancing their way through the dark night. She could feel the moving of the planet, as it joined the waltz and spun around at a music only stars and her could hear. It was something similar to a lullaby, that filled her head as soon as she took the watch in her little hands.

That fascinated and scared her at the same time. Eventually the fear won as the lullaby became louder and louder, threatening almost. As if it were slowly approaching her, getting closer, and, in any moment, would've collapsed on her with all the secrets, that weighted that much to simply kill her little mind.

That's how the destiny of the beautiful pocket watch was decided: being left in her bedside table and never being pulled out. Seeing it made Elizabeth think, and thinking made her ask herself questions which sh didn't have an answers to.

Plus, she was afraid that, if she would've touched it again, it would've sucked her in its waltz, this time though, never letting her go.

So she just left it there.

That night, her first night at the damned orphanage, Elizabeth Smith had a dream.

There was a man. In one blue, blue police box. He always had a different face but she could feel that familiarity and that warmness in her heart that made her understand it was always him. She saw him traveling, saving planets and people. Oh, how happy she was to see such a man, with such a heart. Such a giver.

But she had yet to learn that every giver, was once a taker.

So she saw him bringing war. Destroying a planet: his own home. Screams filled her ears while, in front of her eyes, people fell on the ground, falling into an eternal sleep.

The only thing little Elizabeth remember after that, was her bolting upright from her bed, her skin wet with gelid sweat, with a loud scream tearing her lips. A loud «DOCTOR!» that echoed through the whole building.

Of course Mrs. Caroline came. Little Elizabeth told her about her dream and Mrs Caroline tried to convince her it wasn't real.

And, at first, Elizabeth believed her. For she had not yet learned about the lying nature of the creatures that surrounded her.

However, days passed and, every night, she had a different dream. And every time she would sit up on her bed and cry.

And the reason of her tears was that that man, that man who saved planets, who helped people, who laughed in the face of the danger, was so incredibly and utterly lonely.

He would hide his pain behind a smile and no one could see behind that mask, no one cared to dig deep enough to see that pain, that emptiness inside of him.

His hearts were shattered in millions of pieces, scattered around like the stars in a universe.

"Perhaps it was because of the big War with the big metallic boxes, who'd destroyed his home." Elizabeth would think. "Or perhaps it was because he lost someone important, someone he loved..."

That was the reason o Elizabeth Smith's tears.

Do not get me wrong, though, they weren't necessarily tears of sadness: sometimes, those rare time when a sincere smile would curl on his lips, they were tears of pure joy.

One night she got caught crying by Mrs. Caroline. And again the woman had tried to explain to Elizabeth that her dreams weren't real, that they were only part of her imagination.

But the little girl didn't listen and differed.

Something she would've learned to be a big mistake.

That was how Elizabeth met doctor Williams for the first time.

A psychotherapist.

He was kind to her, though. Elizabeth considered him her friend. Her only friend.

So life went on, time crawled, Earth kept spinning, Elizabeth's body kept living and growing on the outside, slowly dying, though, right under the surface.

~*~

Two years later Elizabeth was eight.

And the freak of the orphanage.

Funny thing rumors: they travel fast even though they have no feet.

Either way, the little girl known as Elizabeth Smith, was now the object of ridicule, for both children and adults.

Laughs dissolved into hushed whispers, and giggles mutated into evil laughs, all of those coming from people that surrounded her as she walked through the hallways.

Mean remarks were shouted out from the crowds of kids, piled up on the thresholds of their rooms to get a glimpse of the crazy girl.

Elizabeth didn't care.

Her feet moved in a direction she knew all too well; she could feel the wooden floor screeching under her, while her footsteps echoed in the little, filthy hall.

And as her feet would reach her room, she would lock herself inside and fall on her bed, blowing out the heaviest of breaths.

Her favorite hobby, by now, was observing the ceiling that, sometimes, was the most interesting thing of them all.

Her room, now seemed much smaller than it was when she had first arrived. Of corse, she had grown up. But Elizabeth liked to think that it was because the four walls of her room pitied her, so they became smaller, trying to hug her, give her comfort.

This, or they were just trying to squish her put her out of her misery.

Either way was fine by her.

What also had changed we're the walls: they were now completely dressed of drawings.

Drawings of the TARDIS, Daleks, Cybermen and every Doctor from his first regeneration to his 9th. Little Elizabeth had no idea of how his 10th and the 11th regeneration would look. Sometimes, she liked to sketch them. Imagine how they might've been. She had had some short flashes of them in her dreams, but those were really rare.

She still had her last dream about him from the prior night, lingering in the back of her head. It was his ninth self who she saw. Ninth who, to her, was the Tenth. For Elizabeth counted the War Doctor too. She had always counted him.

To her, the War one was the bravest.

She could not even begin to imagine how difficult it must have been to make a decision that would kill the people you love the most and destroy the planet you were born on.

Only a brave man could do that. A brace that the Doctor, was.

'It's a planet or the whole universe. The whole universes.' that was the decision he had to face every day.

If was dreadfully sunny that day, a hateful weather for Lizzie.

Her head rolled towards the direction of the door, when she heard the stomping of feet outside her door.

A small, hopeful smile picked on her lips, as she presumed to know who those footsteps belonged to. She quickly stood up and flew the door open with one simple swing, her smile though fading straight away.

No, it wasn't her friend. He did tell her that he was going out to try and get the two of them some food, she didn't know why she had gotten her hopes up thinking he would've been already back.

Sighing, she went to close the door, only to have her eyes fall on a certain price of paper right before her door. She picked it up, curious, only for her eyes to roll once she saw what that paper really was. Hateful words.

"How original.", she'd thought.

With that she sighed, and shut the door of her room.

After some long minutes I got too bored to stay inside, so I sneaked out of the window in my room, and into the cold air of London.

My room was on the 4th floor but, earlier, I found a ladder and brought it near my window. So, sometimes, I could get out of this place.

I put my hands in the pockets of my jacket and started walking down the street. I didn't know where I was going, but I just walked on, watching my black converse getting dirty, my brown curly hair flying on the wind, the beautiful city of London living around me.

I let my thoughts drift to the Doctor. And I wondered where was he now.
What was he doing? If he was traveling in the TARDIS? Perhaps with Sara Jane and K9. Did he exist?

That last question was the most important, also the one that scared me the most.

Was the Doctor real or was he really just a plot of my imagination?

Questions.
Hate them.

I actually hate the ones I don't have the answer on, meaning everyone.

Somehow, an hour flew by. So I turned around and started heading back.

Suddenly I felt some strong arms under my shoulders. They lifted me off the ground and moved me away.

«Hey! Put me down!» I exclaimed, trying to get rid of his grip.

«Okay, okay, I was just saving you.» the man replied.

That caused me to frown because 1) it was strange that a thief asked sorry and 2) I knew that voice.

He put me down and our eyes collided. At first I froze, a pleasant shiver running down my back. Then I smirked. Blue. That light blue which reflected their own two universes. So young but so old at the same time.

And then, with a corner of my eye, I saw a dummy walking away from me.

The dummies! I had a little flash about it in my dreams and I knew for sure he was supposed to meet a blonde girl here, which was supposed to then become his companion.

I grinned like a maniac «Oh, so you've just met.» I said, don't event realizing I was talking out loud.

«Who just met?» the Doctor asked me, putting his hands in his leather jacket.

Yes, it was him.
The 9th one.

«No, no nothing. What's that... Thing?» I asked, pointing at the dummy. Even though I knew everything about it.

«Oh, it's an alien-dummy. Nothing to be worried about. I'll solve it straight away.» he said mentioning the dynamite that he was holding.

«I'm sure you will.» I said smiling.

He opened his mouth and was about to answer when «DOCTOR!» someone called. It was the voice of a girl.

I looked at the source of the voice only to see a girl running to us. She wore skinny blue jeans and a black leather jacket similar to the Doctor's one, her brown hair tied into a ponytail a few strands showing from under her baseball cap. But the strange part was that I never saw her in my dreams.

As she looked at me her blue eyes widened. I instead frowned. Her eyes. That blue.

«You have the same eye colour as me.» I told, my head cocking to the side in curiosity and suspicion. «No one has the same eye color as me.»

She still stared at me. «We-well, It's a really diffused color actually. It's blue. Blue, like clouds. Like the sea. Blue. Blue is nice. I like blue. Do you like blue? I do like blue, but I probably already told you that.» she laughed nervously and looked at the Doctor, who had the same inquiring expression as me.

But there was also a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. That made me feel really weird. I looked back at the girl and threw her a glare.

She pretended not to notice it. «Doctor, we really have to go.» she urged.

«Oh, yes. Right. Coming!» he said and looked at me. I was still glaring at the girl.

«Now you, go home and be safe.» he told me.

Even though it pained me to leave him, I nodded and turned around, catching a sad look on the girl's face. Why was she sad? She travelled with him! She could see time and space with him while I went to the bloody school!

I started walking away with my head down. There was something that was pushing me to stay there with him, but I knew I couldn't. Some points in time can't be rewritten. You can't change history if you are part of it.

«Wait!» I then heard and turned around. I saw the Doctor looking at me.

«What's your name?» he asked.

«Elizabeth.» I almost whispered. A little smile speared across the girl's face. I glared at her, that weird feeling still present.

«Nice to meet you, Elizabeth. I'm the Doctor, by the way. -he waved the dynamite at me- Run for your life!» he smiled and ran into the building.

The girl threw me a slight smile and then the both of them started running to the building.

I watched him disappearing from my life, and this feeling was kind of known to me, even though no one ever left me.

At least I can't remember if someone did.

And then I walked away.

When I came back at the orphanage I lied down on my bed and stared at the ceiling with a big grin on my lips. Because now I was sure. I was sure that the Doctor was real.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~

Helloooooooo!
Guys this chapter was boring I don't deny it, but I promise, if you go on reading, you'll get more interested.
I hope you liked anyway it and I hope you understood it too 'cos my English truly sucks. Have a fantastic day.😉

Sofie.

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