Rain. Today was full of rain. Cold, cloudy days like this are my favorite. Especially during school. It brings me peace and calms me down. It shouldnât be too much longer now. A few more weeks and Iâm finished. High school, over. I almost canât believe it.Â
You closed your journal and looked out window of your last period class. Rain droplets squiggled down the glass, leaving trails of water and making beautiful patterns. The noisiness of the class was almost brought to a silence in your mind.Â
A tapping on your shoulder brings you back to reality and the loud voices return to your hearing. You look up to see your teacher looking down at you with a displeased expression. âGet to work, L/N.â He scolded, glancing at your paper with no answers written. Snickers erupted from a few kids and you could feel eyes burning in the back of your head. You pulled your hoodie over your head in an attempt to shield yourself, but it was of no use. Your leg bounced under the desk nervously and you flicked your pen in between your fingers repeatedly. You stared down at your paper, pretending to be focused.Â
Everyday was like this. Your stomach full of swirling emotions and anxiety from school. It was too much. It didnât used to be, but thatâs how life works. Everything changes eventually. The dismissal bell rang, and you shoved your notebook in your backpack. You swung it over your shoulder quickly and hurried out of the room. Down the hall you strode, bumping past many kids and not caring. To be home is all you wanted right now.
You exited the campus grounds and walked into the parking lot where your car was waiting. You fumbled with your car keys and pressed the unlock button, then entered the drivers side. It wasnât a long drive home. In fact, you lived so close you could walk. But it proved to be very difficult for you, so you just choose to drive. It wasnât long before you were pulling up to the curb in front of your house.
You were so relieved to be home. Thereâs always something so comforting about opening the front door to yourâ
Thud.
âOww, what the hell?â You exclaimed after running into your front door. You tried the knob again. It was locked. Thatâs strange. Itâs never locked. Literally never. You donât even carry around a house key. You lived in a safe enough neighborhood and your school was close, so there wasnât really a need to lock it.Â
You pulled the welcome mat up and grabbed the spare key. Turning it in the knob you heard a click and pushed open the door, leaving the key under the mat once more. Cautiously, you entered. Something was off. You could feel it.
You stuck your car key between your fingers and made a fist, prepared to face a possible intruder. Slowly and carefully, you headed towards the kitchen. A rustling sound was heard and your heart stopped. Thereâs someone in there. You thought. I could back away and call the police, but⌠what good would they even do?
Something lured you deeper into your house, and you eventually found yourself at the corner of the kitchen. You inhaled and stepped into view, holding out your fists. What you saw was not what you were expecting. Not at all.
âWhat..? What is this?â You murmured. In front of you stood a.. statue. A statue! In your kitchen! How the hell did it get there?
It was tall and made of stone. Concrete, you guessed, and was shaped of an angel covering its eyes. You stared in complete awe, and you reached up to rub your eyes to make sure you werenât hallucinating.
The moment your hands obscured your vision, pain shot through your veins and you collapsed. Your voice cried in agony and the once carpet you felt beneath you turned to grass. You didnât even get a chance to open your eyes before losing consciousness. The last thing you could make out was a man calling out to you.
-
You woke up in pain. All of your bones and muscles cried at any movement. You fluttered opened your eyes, your eyelids drowsy as if you had been asleep for a long time. Slowly but surely, the room started to come into focus. You squinted and looked around. You lay in a bed, a rather uncomfortable one at that, with curtain dividers hanging from the ceiling around you. There was no equipment or heart monitors, just a small end table with a lamp on it. It looked like an old hospital.
You tried to position yourself into an upright sitting position, but a terrible pain shot through your muscles. You groaned in pain, catching the attention of a man who was sitting next to you on a chair. You only just noticed him when he spoke out.
âCareful now, your body still needs to heal.â He spoke soothingly. He had a full accent, British or Scottish you couldnât quite tell. You were still in shock and writhing in pain.
âWhat⌠happened?â You slurred, turning to look at the man. Your breath hitched softly when you saw how⌠lovely⌠the man looked.Â
His eyes were a warm, welcoming brown, and they watched you with such interest. He had brown messy hair with sideburns and a clean shaven face. His outfit looked⌠peculiar. He wore a blue suit with a red tie, with a long brown overcoat sitting over it.Â
You were so busy gawking at the man that you didnât notice his mouth was moving. Shit, whatâs he saying? You mentally cursed.
âSorry... could you repeat that?â You asked awkwardly. The man raised an eyebrow quizzically, but started again.
âI said you appeared out of nowhere a bit North of town. You were unconscious and l brought you here to get help.â He spoke.Â
âWait⌠where exactly am I?âÂ
âI believe the correct wording is, when are you?â He smirked to himself.
âWhat? Who are you? What the hell are you talking about?âÂ
âRight, Iâm The Doctor. Pleasure to meet you. uh...â He trailed, waiting for you to finish his sentence.
âY/N,â You said hesitantly. âY/N L/N.âÂ
âPleasure to meet you Y/N!â He beamed, standing up from his chair. âNow Y/N, can you tell me what year it is?â
This man was acting strange. Very strange indeed. Why would he not know what year it was? âWhat kind of question is that? Itâs 20â"
âWrong, itâs 1913.âÂ
Your thoughts were brought to a halt and you stared at the madman. You felt frozen in time as he stared back at you, awaiting a response. All you could do was laugh. âYeah right. 1913? Thatâs impossible.â Your laughs slowly faded out and you noticed he was still staring. âYouâre not serious⌠are you?âÂ
âOh, but I am! Look around you Y/N! Do hospitals even look like this anymore?â He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. âRight, how do I explain this without coming off as a complete lunatic?â He asked to himself.
âItâs a bit too late for that.â You chuckled. You noticed the pain in your body was fading, and you could sit up properly now. You took this opportunity to get a good long look around you. You noticed things you hadnât before. Your clothes had been changed from your hoodie and jeans into an ivory colored hospital gown. Your clothes were folded neatly in a pile on the floor by the end table, with your keys and phone sitting on top of it. âWait, if weâre in 1913, then why hasnât anyone taken notice of my weird futuristic belongings?â You asked.
âI hid your things while the nurses were in here earlier. As for your clothes, I just told them you were from out of town. Which, isnât far off from the truth.â He explained, chuckling at that last bit.Â
Your didnât say anything in response, still reeling from the fact that you were a decade in the past. The stranger cleared his throat after a moment of awkward silence. âRight, are you feeling better? Better enough to stand up? Walk even?â He asked.
âYeah, I am.â You replied, throwing the blankets off of you. Slowly, you put your legs over the side of the bed. The man reached his hand out for you to grab in assistance. âThanks. What did you say your name was again?â You asked him. You remember him saying he was a doctor, but you didnât get to catch his name.Â
âIâm The Doctor.â He replied promptly, letting you grab ahold of his arm to regain balance.
âIâve picked up on that, but Doctor who?â
âOh, I love it when people say that,â He whispered to himself with a smile. âItâs just The Doctor.â
You scoffed. âThatâs not a real name, thatâs just a title.â
âItâs a real name where I come from!â He countered in an almost whiney voice.
âWhere are you from then?â
âLook, nowâs really not the time. We need to stop the angels before they get to my TARDIS.â
You stopped. Did he say angels? Wait⌠that thing in your kitchen wasâŚÂ
âThese angels⌠are they statues?â You asked.Â
âYes! The Weeping Angels. Iâm not surprised youâre familiar with them, seeing as youâre one of their many victims.â He picked up your pile of clothes and handed them to you quickly. You stared at him with a confused look. âRight then. Hurry up and get dressed, we donât have much time.â
You decided to end your interrogation, for now, and follow his instruction. âDo you mind?â You asked, watching him shift back and forth on his feet.
âAh yes, sorry.â He apologized and swiftly turned around, sliding through to the other side of the privacy curtain. You promptly put your clothes back on, leaving the nightgown laying on the bed. You felt way better, and more comfortable, being in your own clothes. You noticed your shoes on the ground and slid them back on. Finally you grabbed your phone and keys, slipping them into your pocket.
âOkay. Where to?â You asked.
âThis way then, follow me.â He hurried, rushing towards the entrance to the hospital. You wondered why the nurses didnât seem to bat an eye at the two strangers leaving in such a rush, but shrugged it off. There were much weirder things happening right now. You followed suit, trying your best to catch up. You trailed behind him as he opened the front doors of the hospital, light pouring into the building. You were blinded shortly from the change in brightness, and when your eyes focused again you looked around you.
âWhoahâŚâ You gaped at the sight. It was London but⌠it looked straight out of a history book. Newsies rode on their bicycles, classy couples drove down the street in their fancy new bullnose cars⌠it was unreal. âIs this⌠London?â You turned to look at The Doctor, who was facing away from you and staring at something. You walked past him to see what could be more interesting than what stood in front of you. He was looking at a newspaper box. Inside, a print that read the date November 27th, 1913. Plastered in big, bold letters across the top stood the heading titled âMore Missing Persons Reported As Month-long Mystery Continues.â
âThis has been going on for much too long. Iâve never seen them take so many before.â The Doctor mumbled, standing up straight. He reached into his trench coat and pulled out a long silver device with a lightbulb on the end. âRight then, we need to track them down. Shouldnât be too much of a problem.â
You stared in wonder at the man as he lit up his little device. A blue light emitted from the top along with a low buzzing sound. âWhatâs that?âÂ
âItâs my Sonic Screwdriver. Iâm using it to pick up alien life forms,â He answered. His... screwdriver... made an increase in pitch and his face excitingly lit up. âAha! There you are!â
âHold on, hold on, aliens?â Alright, thatâs it. You draw the line here. âAliens arenât real!â Even though your insides began filling with fear, your shout came out as more of a laugh.âWho really are you?â
The Doctor turned to face you, a brilliant smile on his face. âIâm The Doctor, and Iâm going to get you home safe and sound.â Everything seemed to slow down in that moment. You stared into each otherâs eyes, yours full of anxiety and worry, but his full of hope and determination. He twitched his head to the side and reached his hand out. âCome on, letâs get you home.â
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hiii im holli. so iâm not much of a frequent writer, but i do have some nice drafts that have never seen the light of day. so thatâs what this page is for basically. iâm definitely not going to be active, i just need a place to put these!