#booksmartuptight

booksmartuptight

i-hate-trains

thefastestflyingfairy

oneandtrueking

imnotthebeast

"Not telling me where we're going was cute until we wound up in Victorian Paris and I was in a mini skirt," Clara told the Doctor as she leaned against the TARDIS's front door.

The Doctor merely rolled his eyes. "Go on, then." He motioned for her to open the doors. The little brunette did as she was bid, but when she wrenched the doors open, she found herself nose to nose with a stranger. "Oh, erm, hello!"

A long day had just come to an end. Her stupid little adventures with Theta, finishing and starting her work, things like that were sort of over for now. With a smidge of energy left in her, Amy got into her pajamas and into her bed in less than five minutes.

Her eyes closed. She saw nothing but the black of her eyelids. 

Suddenly she felt a hand over her mouth. Then, over her neck choking her and another over her eyes. She tried and tried to gasp for air, but it was impossible.

Coughs and screams left her.

                  [  N o  o n e  h e a r d  h e r  .  ]

She felt herself being dragged out of her room through a window to... somewhere, but she couldn't see.

                                                       ☣

In a matter of minutes, Amy was unbound from the hands. She gasped for air as much as she could.

Looking up, she saw the face and heard the voice of the woman who once haunted her standing right in front of her. Amy was never so frightened before.

"Looks like we got the flesh perfectly right," the woman mumbled to someone dressed in all black with an eyepatch just like her.

But, when she looked down at herself, she was wearing the same thing, but not. She wore a tight, but flexible jumpsuit with a silver eye patch. It was quite strange.

"Who are you? What flesh? Where am I? What's going on?" Amy questioned nervously. She tried to escape from the seat she was bound into. It didn't work. 

"Flesh? Oh. Just a type of... stand in for you. Kind of like a voodoo doll. We didn't want anyone to notice you were gone. Not that anyone really would miss you or notice you weren't there." She replied with an evil grin. "The rest. Oh, you find out soon."

                                                           ☣

When Theta's alarm pierced through his dreams, or better yet: nightmares, his eyes instantly opened and he slammed his hand on the snooze button. It felt as though there was a tiny stampede in his head trying to burst their way out by slamming into his skull. He'd never experienced such pain at a random time. 

Oh no, I'm dying. The time has come for me to regenerate. I didn't think it would happen this way.

Theta was laying on his stomach and he felt like if he continued to do so, last night's dinner would end up on his floor. Therefore, he turned so that he was laying on his back instead. Coughing and a sneezing could be heard throughout the entire house every five minutes. 

As the day continued on, Theta vomited twice before remembering that he had a plan with Amy. He mentally swore at himself as he climbed back into the bed, his face paler than ever and he sent a quick text to her:

Theta was wondering.

Wondering several things actually, though none of it seemed to click completely with what was happening at that particular moment. Then again, his thoughts rarely did if one were to peak inside his head from the outside.

Wondering why he hadn’t seen Kosch in quite a while. Wondering whether or not the rest of the Chapter had heard about the previous night. Wondering if she knew. He had a feeling she didn’t, though. She hadn’t tried to lecture him yet, he was sure that’d be the sign.

Perhaps the distracted thoughts were a way of coping with things he didn’t know how to react to. He often didn’t know how to react to things properly, or so he had been told.

Theta wasn’t wondering things anymore. Or, at least, not the things he had been wondering. Those things could wait. They’d have to, because he couldn’t quite remember what they were now. They probably weren’t of much importance.

Not with the current confusion trickling through his mind. Perhaps he wasn’t right in the head, and perhaps if he were he may have kissed her back. Instead, he watched, stiff as a board, as she withdrew from him. His eyes met hers after a moment, and when they did, he found that he wished he could rewind that moment, maybe he’d do something that would make sense. Maybe he’d do something he wanted to do all along.

Instead, he did what he always did.

         You are literally the most annoying person I've ever met. But that doesn't change a thing. Because I know I'm the most annoying person you've ever met. And yet, we've been friends so long. We've been together, in a sense, for so long. I know I said I didn't want a typical. But to me, this isn't typical. Because typical is settling down and having a family. I know there will be no settling down or having a family if I ever have any of this the way I wish for it to go. But they both knew they loved each other, but didn't admit it to the other. We I set aside such feelings because I knew they were not returned. I was almost like your idiot brother.

        And yet, here I sit, writing this letter to you simply because I cannot deny what is inside about. And I sound like a girl for this and I feel like a girl. And it's weird because I am not this person. You make this odd person that looks into the mirror and sees a different reflection staring at him. It's scary, honestly. But when I think that you hate me, I remember the relationship that we have not the one that I want. And I know that you may never see me as I see you. And strangely enough, I'm okay with that.

                                  Sincerely,

            It is only just and right for me to write this final letter addressed to you and only you in a proper and formal way that we both know is never used by myself. But this is an occasion in which I must explain as much as possible without being secretive or mysterious. But yet simple and straightforward, something that one would not associate with my name.

            I regret to inform you that my numerous trials did not blow over so well and I have in fact been sentenced to execution by the Council. I beg for you not to try and stop the inevitable, but resolve all conflicts that you have with both my family and, though there are few, myself. I regret many decisions that I have made in the past that have led me to writing this sorrowful letter, but I will never regret meeting you. That was the best day of my life and I hope it was the same for you. Though I do not know what you will do after my passing, I wish nothing more than for you to redeem happiness and escape the world of darkness you find yourself in sometimes.

           As I look back at my depressingly short life, I see the mistakes I’ve made and the things I have should have. I should stopped the bullies in the Academy. I should have stepped up to the plate and helped you. Therefore, in my time of need, I want you to do as I did to you and do nothing. I fear that you will read too far in between the lines and do something dreadfully stupid. And that, my one and only Pond, is all that I have time to say. I love you and I wish you well in life.

            Yours truly,