Of TimeLords and Ticking Clocks {Doctor Who}

Chapter 1: A Slight Miscalculation

Dreams are so overrated.

Every single day, stupid dreams reminding me of how absolutely boring my life is. It's seriously the most annoying thing ever.

I hate mornings almost as much as I hate my dreams. You have to get up, and look foreword to another mediocre day with filler conversations.

So yes, I find almost everything unimaginably un-exciting.

I am also aware of the fact that I should be grateful for what I have. I wish I could be.

Today will be different, though. (No it won't.) I'll finally have an exciting day, filled to the brim with exhilaration, adrenaline, and danger. (Unfortunately, impossible.)

So I follow my routine. Wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, spend five hours in the bathroom deciding on what color of eyeliner to wear, only to end up with my favorite pencil liner, Midnight Sky. Run out the door with my safety-cone orange backpack hastily slung over my right shoulder.

If anything is unusual in my life, it's that I seem to lack a past. I don't really remember my family, so I must have been separated early. At least, I think that's how it happened. Try as I might, I can't recall anything too important, just that my name is Jane, and I have extraordinarily strange dreams.

Fortunately for me, I seem to have inherited an estate from some "family friend" or something, John Smith, was it? Anyway, I've been living in it for as long as I can remember. It's not much, but it's at least better than nothing. Of course, I guess I could be considered a bit too young to own my own home, but I'm old enough, and that's what counts. At least, I think I'm old enough?

I hear footsteps, and instantly know who's joined me in my slow ascent up the hill to my school.

"Jane, what are you thinking about?" Sara drags out my name until it sounds more like 'Jaaaaaynee' than what it actually is.

"Nothing, don't worry." I don't look at her when I speak, knowing that she doesn't really care. We've really only been friends out of necessity, rather than choice.

"Okay, if you say so. I'm going to hang out with Hayley today, if that's cool with you." I nod in reply, knowing that it's not a question. She's going to go with or without my permission. "See you around Jane."

She's gone, probably down a different heavily wooded path that she could never convince anyone else to enter. Anyone but me, we found various shortcuts together over the summer. It wasn't particularly enjoyable, but if I ever need a quick route home, I know where to go.

Before I know it, my feet have carried me to the extremely un-extraordinary red brick high school that sits atop another mundane mini-mountain. I've always hated it here, not only is it boring, but the teachers here seem to hate me. Even though I've aced every test and quiz that they've thrown at me, they seem unsatisfied and determined to find a reason to fail me. I'm about ninety-nine percent sure that they're hostile aliens.

The day seems to drag on, class after class of teachers shooting daggers at me as they stare, breathing over my neck, and asking me increasingly stupid questions.

"Jane, I am very disappointed in you." I frown, regarding Miss Lennia cautiously. We're in a unusually empty hallway, the yellow tinted lighting casting eerie shadows, and I recall that I have Social Studies next.

"I didn't do anything Miss, I don't know what you're talking about." Her neck makes an inhumane cracking noise, and I wince as she leans down to stare into my eyes.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Jane Smith." Her eyes seem to glow emerald, but I dismiss it as the lighting. Or- I try to.

"My name is Jane Tyler, Miss."

She seems to grow darker, as if the lamps decorating the walls have flickered off, but I can still see them shining in my peripheral vision. I can no longer dismiss her eyes as a trick of the light, as they glow, cutting deep green paths through the darkness that pulses off of her. Her mouth is drawn in a sickening smirk, and I swear I spot fangs. "Tyler, oh, he chose a nice one for you-"

A loud woosh interrupts her. Paper flutters from a door on my left, as if there's wind, which can't be possible. The noise crescendos before dying down, and I momentarily forget about the danger that surrounds me. When I glance back around at my surroundings, Miss Lennia is gone.

With a deep breath, I start to turn away from the doorway, but a voice stops me. "No, this is not the eighteen ninety-nine newsboy strike! Why am I here? I did not miscalculate... Oh, I did miscalculate, that's slightly discouraging." The tone sounds familiar, it must be some drama student in their free block. "Hello! I'm the Doctor."

He's peering out of the short wooden door, grinning slightly creepily. With perfectly styled hair, a tweed jacket, and a quirky red bowtie, my drama student hypothesis seems to be correct. "Listen, I'm late for Socials, I don't have time for improv. Sorry."

"Improv?" He frowns, obviously thinking. It's apparent that he's a good actor, I almost believe that he actually believed he would show up in eighteen ninety-nine. "Oh! You think I'm acting. Sorry, I do get a bit confused sometimes, but I'll tell you this," he approaches me slowly, "I am not a character."

"Could've fooled me, Shakespeare." I snort, laughing sarcastically.

"No, Shakespeare isn't here, he doesn't get to see the future until-" The realization dawns on him. "Wait, was that an insult?"

"I don't believe so, but if you want to interpret it that way, be my guest." I retort, turning my back to him. "Thanks to you and Miss Lennia, I'm late for class. See you around, I guess."

I'm speed walking through the halls, my feet making soft thumps on the linoleum floor. I can hear a second set of clicks behind me, and can only assume that 'The Doctor' is following me. I spin on my heel, facing him with a glare. "What are you doing?"

He pauses as if he doesn't know. "I'm... Searching." With a nod, he steps past me and continues down the hall.

"Searching? For what?" Looking a bit overeager, he clasps his hands together and smiles.

"That's the fun! I don't know what I'm looking for yet!"

"You're mad." I conclude, folding my arms.

"No, I'm the Doctor!" I sigh in exasperation, I've been dad-joked.

"Well, I'm also late for class, so I'll be off. Go... Blow something up, I guess."

He looks a bit too excited at my statement, adjusting his ridiculous bowtie and standing up a little taller. "Ooh, maybe I will. Where's the science lab?"

I point him in the right direction hurriedly, before rushing down the halls. I'm almost fifteen minutes late for class, which means I'm a dead person walking. The teachers will be extremely gleeful, they're always looking for reasons to get me in trouble.

There's a gigantic blast from somewhere in the school, nearly deafening. The acrid scent of smoke fills the air.

Being late seems to be the least of my worries.