The Paradox of Paisley Perkins (Doctor Who fanfiction)

The Odd Beginning of Something Great

Hey this is my first fan fic so enjoy and, yes, criticize I don't mind let me know if I get something wrong!

I'll try to update every week or so but I have a lot of books going on another account... but erm yeah enjoy! :D

There is a chill in the air. I wrap my black pea coat tightly around my body. Soon, I can see her grave come into view.

I decided that the orphanage wouldn't care, but of course they never did, so I decided to pay Mom a visit for the first time in ages.

I walk across the yard, stroking gravestones absent mindedly until I come upon my mother's. I know this graveyard too well for a teenage girl. I stand in the shade over her body and gaze at the dark reddish brown slanted stone. Running my fingers along the name carved into the stone, I feel a lump in my throat. She was fourty-eight. The thirteen years I new her were the best of my life. My parents had kind of a late start on a family; my mother was thirty-four, and my father ten years older when I was born.

I kneel to the ground and let the sadness take over. Tears roll down my face and onto the cold ground beneath me. I want to feel her arms around me again, I want to sit on the couch with her, laughing and crying with beloved characters, and I want to make her popcorn with season salt, and scrambled eggs with garlic powder, just how she liked them. I glance to my right and catch sight of my grave plot, sitting, waiting for me. Visions of family crying over my body, dirt covering up the casket, my bones wasting forever come to my mind. This happens a lot.

I finally gather myself and try to speak. "Hey, Mom...I've missed you." I take a deep breath. "So, umm, I'll be joining a new school tomorrow... No one will miss me," I start to trail off, but catch myself. "I'll still come here often, I promise." I can't talk anymore, or else I'll burst into tears again.

I close my eyes and pat the stone once again before I turn away. I desperately wish for a miracle.

A sudden wind picks up before I even take a step, and I wrap my jacket tighter around my waist. I try to walk ahead, but a tall form starts to materialize from the mist. An odd wheezing noise echoes through the graveyard.

The form is complete and I see a blue police call box. It sits ominously, still and quiet and looming over me. I step forward cautiously and dare to reach out to it, shuddering all the way.

The door bursts open and I yelp at the top of my lungs, jumping behind my mother's gravestone, praying for her to protect me once more.

"Hello!" I hear a voice call. I peak over the stone and see a tall man with a red bowtie, quite a chin, and suspenders staring at me. Must be a hallucination; When I get really emotional I have...visions.

"Who are you?"

"Not important at the moment." He says. I venture from behind the grave. He turns to the box and mutters, "What's wrong, dear? Why take me here..."

Taking small steps, I almost start to cry out for help, scream about a madman with a box and how he landed on my family. I tell myself to calm down, he can't be real, and reach out to touch his face. I have to stand on my toes. "You're real," I whisper.

"Of course I'm real."

I jump behind the stone again. "Just checking...I thought you were a hallucination. I have those a lot." He was harmless when he wasn't real, but god knows what he could do now that I know he's actually here.

"What's your name? Where am I? When am I?"

"My name is Paisley Perkins. You're in Indiana, U.S.A., in 2014," I answer quietly.

"Okay, Paisley, there's a reason I'm here. The TARDIS wouldn't just drop me in this little stink hole for nothing, no offense," he says in his British accent.

I answer annoyed, "Much taken. You haven't even seen the town. Who are you? And what the hell is a TARDIS?"

He continues to ignore me. "Has anything important happened here? How small is this town, eight square miles, maybe six?"

He won't stop pacing. "Sir-"

"Do you have school, perhaps a town hall?"

"Sir, you-"

"Don't call me 'sir', little girl. And don't interrupt, either, that's rude." He gets dangerously close to my mother.

"Back off." He ignores me.

"This place so gloomy and sad for a little girl. What would you be doing here, in a graveyard, just a child?"

That's enough. I knock him to the ground with my shoulder. "You are standing on my mother!" I scream at him. "And I am not a child." His face softens. "You disturb my peace, insult my town, call me a child, you won't stop talking, and paced on my mother's grave! Now, who are you?!"

He slowly stands up. "I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor what?"

He frowns at me. "Just the Doctor."

"What kind of name is that?" I snap.

"A wonderful name. Strikes fear and hope alike into the hearts of millions at a time."

"Woah, calm down there. Dramatic much?"

The Doctor glares at me. "How old are you? Ten, eleven years old?"

"I'm fourteen years old!"

"You don't act it."

"You're obnoxious." He's trying my patience.

"You're a child," He says, raising his eyebrows.

I throw my hands up. "Fine. But what's so bad about being a child?"

The Doctor grins. "Now you've got it. I like you. So, to continue, I need to know everything about this town."

"Then find out for yourself. I need to get back to the orphanage." I start to walk away.

"Orphanage? That's rubbish."

"Yeah, well, life's rubbish," I mutter, mocking him.

"Not if you live it right." I turn to look at him. In that moment, the Doctor was more than just some weirdo who stumbled out of a box, it was like I knew him, like I could trust him with my life. My blood pounds in my ears. The closing fog around me makes it hard to see, and the crushing silence makes it hard to keep focus.

"Come on," I sigh. "I can show you around." I pat the knife in my jacket. Just to be sure.