Daddies Little Dalek (DW)

Handcuffs

I sat, crying and sniffling under the covers of the small Egyptian cotton blanket.

“I knew this would happen. You save me from the Daleks, but what do you do next? Lock me up. I knew I would never be free, truly free. I freaking knew it, bloody Time lord.”” I murmur, my body shivering as I cried.

My body shivered violently as I called up memories that I had tried to block away in that dormant section of my brain. Every one of those memories came pouring out in a flood of tears and terrifying images.

After a few seconds of mind scarring memories, I sat still, my body shaking violently as my past came back to haunt me.

I unlocked the handcuffs, giving my arms some moving room.

I sob into my hands for a good duration, trying my best to dismiss all of the bad memories.

Then, that one good memory that I had always cherished seemed to be the angel that helped keep my sanity in check.

The Pandora’s Box of memories was just unfurled.

But at the end, a little angle was there, showing that little spark of hope for me.

I quickly sniffed, wiping my eyes free of tears, and I sucked it up, looking back up to see River, looking at me with pity.

She shot a questioning glance at the Doctor, but I answered her question.

“For most of my life, I have endured cruel treatment from the Daleks. When the Doctor found me I was in chains, hooked up to several machines that watched me as I was the guinea pig for the Daleks. My life was perfect, until your husband decided to kill my father, thanks a lot by the way. Ever since his death I had been locked away inside the Dalek asylum, left for dead.” I murmur looking down.

“Who was your dad?” she asked and I clenched my teeth.

“Davros.” I muttered under my breath, every time I said his name my hearts squeezed tighter in pain and sadness.

Despite the fact that I knew he was dead, I knew he was always there, walking beside me.

He was there for me, and it was time for me to be there for him.

I look at my hands, the scrapes and scars decorating them like battle scars, the marks of many years of hard torture.

I clenched my fists, proud of my scars, every single one showing how I would not give up.

I look up, a fake smile plastered on my face.

“So where was I …?

Oh yes…

Where are the keys to the handcuffs I already unlocked? >:D

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