Trust Me

My Doctor really would like some people to go on adventures with. And I would really love to plan a plot. 

        Dr. James Smith was exhausted. Not only was grading tiring because of the huge pile of papers that rested on his desk at home, he just felt physically drained. Lectures seemed like less of something he looked forward to, and more of something he dreaded. Everything he said seemed like clever things to show off how smart he was. Perhaps he was a genius, after all, his mentor had many times exclaimed about how young he was. 

      He was a twenty five year old teacher, that itself was extremely out of the ordinary, a teacher of a high school.  Sometimes James himself wondered why he wanted to teach here, after all, high school had been a special circle of hell for him. It was probably the money, the teachers here were very well paid, and James' Doctorate was put to good use.

    While his degree was in Quantum Physics, he had a masters in Education, allowing him to recieve a teaching certificate.  Perhaps it was the fixing kids that he liked the most, Amelia thought he was crazy for liking his job, and sometimes James agreed, but there was a simple humility in teaching that the Doctor enjoyed.

    There were different types of people in his class, the cliques, the people that would have taken out their own insecurities on others. Others that were people John glared at when he was their age. Yet, with maturity, came the strict calm of authority. There was no point in harping over simple dislike of traits when he could wait for their actions to prove their need of a detention. 

     As they filed in, and took their seats, John didn't meet their eyes, not just yet.  The roar of talking student filled the room, texting, Snapchat, Skype..the constant need of contact.  These people didn't know what it was like to be alone.

   "Never cook for me again, because...this..."

     As he was shoved into the cell, his stunted legs somehow succeeded in keeping him upright.  The Lannister turned, his eyes glaring at the guards that put him here, hating that he had to crane his neck in order to meet their eyes. This was the worst part of his deformity, being treated like a child, and a second class citizen.

    Everything had happened so fast, Tyrion could hardly believe that his nephew was dead.  He couldn’t deny the sick pleasure that erupted in his stomach at the knowledge the little bastard died painfully. Joffery had done enough in his short life to deserve an agony, and it was better for the land he ruled that he had died. A cruel chuckle left his lips as he realized the King had died in his parents’ arms, though none but the three siblings knew it. Tommen would be a better suited king, anyway.

    However, Tyrion’s worry rested upon himself.  He was clever, and extremely shrewd at that, but with Cersei’s finger pointed straight at him for the murder of her son, it was doubtful Tyrion could wriggle himself out of this one. He took solace in the fact Shea was confirmed safe, and gone from this mess his nephew’s wedding had turned out to be.

    The lion turned to see the light from the grate looking to the sky—-