"Venice! Venezia! La Serenissima!" The words of the Eleventh Doctor could be heard through the walls of the James Household, straight from the television.
Oh? Perhaps that this is the wrong place? No, this is not it indeed; one must see, young Annabelle Williams was living with her grandmother's family. Most of her family was small, dead, or non-existent. She liked to think that like Amelia Pond, the rest, like Amy's parents, were not there because of a crack in the fabric of reality.
But Annabelle was not naïve. As little as she was, and however much she liked being called 'Annie', she knew that BBC's Doctor Who was only a story.
A story that she had happened to fall in love with.
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"Annie!" It was the voice of her great-aunt, Margaret James. Margaret was a frail, skinny, nervous woman, and very old indeed. Her husband, Quentin James, had died the year previously, leaving her to raise her grand-niece on their retirement fund.
"Annabelle!" Margaret's voice came again from the stairs, calling to her niece, who sat curiously by the telly, her blue eyes examining the screen with wonder, "Turn it off now, dear. It's time for bed."
As the good girl she was, Annie turned the television off, sighing as she did. She got dressed for bed in the same manner, thinking that all she wanted to really do was finish the episode. Start at the beginning, perhaps..
"Good night, darling," Margaret whispered, closing the door on the girl as she sat down on the bed. No, her bed. It was her bed, now.
Annie was very close to sleeping, when the unthinkable happened. Her wall, a plain cream colour, clearly the original, was glowing white- and not the good kind.
There was a crack in her wall.
YOU ARE READING
The Visitor
FanfictionAnnie Williams is from a world where Doctor Who is only a show on television. She has always felt out of place; like she never belonged. Of course, that all changes when a crack in her wall appears, sending her to a life that she didn't remember ex...
