The Doctor's Daughter (A Doctor Who Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

Hello faithful readers (my dorky greeting)! So I have now posted the Prologue and the first chapter. When I get 3 votes, I will post the next chapter (and don't worry, there will be plenty!). I would love to hear your feedback and suggestions for the plot because I haven't completely planned it yet. Enjoy! (Disclaimer next, right? This is my first time writing on Wattpad.) Um, I don't own the doctor or Rose, so those rights go to BBC. I own Jay, Skylar and Jasmine (sorry, Jaz: Jaz.) and a few characters in future chapters.

It's a warm summer day. My shirt is damp with sweat from racing across the thriving tall-grass fields. I skid to a stop just seconds before I would have crashed into the dock. I wrap my hand around the edge to steady myself. I heave myself onto the dock, swinging my legs over the side.
I drag myself to the edge of the wooden platform, too tired to stand, and put my toes in the water, then my feet. I stare down at the gleaming aqua.

Something moves in the reflection of the water and I gasp, turning to look.

It is only a rabbit, daring to come closer. I reach my hand out slowly, and its nose twitches, wondering. It hops a bit closer and I move my fingers a little.

Suddenly, its eyes go black, beady and lifeless and its teeth sharpen into fangs, lunging at my hand. I scream, recoiling my hand, and fall flat on my back.

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I sit up as fast as I can in bed, gasping for air. As soon as I catch my breath, a man walks into my room. It's my dad, Ryan Long, leaning in the door frame, his arms folded over his chest, checking on me. My mother died a few years ago, and since then, it's been brutal. My dad forgets things, tells me to do extra chores, strange things, even, sometimes. I worry about him.

I'm only wearing an old, holey t-shirt and ripped jean-shorts, and even though he's my dad, I pull the covers up a little more to hide my appearance. He unfolds his arms and walks to my bedside. He sighs.

"Don't worry, honey. It was just a dream." He reaches for a free strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear.

"More like a nightmare," I retort with a low grumble. "That's the third time this week." I slump down into my pillow and pull the sheets over my head. I sigh. "Just go back to bed, I'm fine." It comes out muffled through the sheets.

"I wasn't sleeping."

That makes me afraid to ask what he WAS doing, so I don't. I hear his footsteps follow him out of the room.

As soon as I'm sure he's gone, I throw the covers to the other end of the bed and rub my eyes: I can't sleep any more.

I slide my legs out of the blankets and plant my feet on the floor. I flex my toes, staring at them as I do. I reach for my contacts and put them in my lap. I open the case, and pop the lenses in.

I blink a few times and my vision clears up, although the room is still dark. I open the drawer of my dresser and select a graffitied t-shirt, and my Union Jack sunglasses (I always wear the shorts I will wear the next day, the night before). I am a die-hard Great Britain fan, even though I was born in Indiana, according to my dad. I currently live in Virginia.

I don't really have an English or British accent but whenever I meet new people or am around strangers, I use one, because it makes me feel...protected. Yeah, I know. Weird.

I walk to my door, and pause, just before stepping out. I scold myself for being so hesitant. It was just a dream, I think.

I step out and walk through the dark hallways, silhouettes parked on every wall. I reach the kitchen and pop open the refrigerator. I grab a Sprite and loosen the cap, bringing it to my mouth. I sip from it and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

I push the screen door open and stride out. I put my free hand in my pocket and scan the landscape. I turn towards the side of the house and head for the gutter that scales the side of our house.

I test it out, running my hands along it with care. I wrap my left around one side, and my right around the other. I bring them higher and hoist my body around it. I begin to climb, until I reach the top, where I bring my legs around, then my arms. Then I'm laying on the roof.

I roll onto my other side. I sit up and fold my legs, criss-cross-applesauce. I put on my sunglasses and wait. I know something will happen. I can feel it.