A Dangerous Path: Doctor Who

Chapter 1

It was a late winter night. Half water, half ice lined the sidewalks and streets. Alixandria Van Der Wolfe walked (more like stumbled) to her house from her bus stop. It had been a long, hard day. Everyday was hard. At Jefferson County High School, people like her weren't exactly cherished or respected. Alixandria was brilliant. She was deep. She had a brain, for goodness sake. She was tired. The crook of her elbow was rather sore, but she disregarded it.

She walked up her driveway, grabbing the key from the pocket in her black Jansport backpack. Alixandria slid it into the locks on the door, turning them the right way. She pulled down on the brass coloured handle, but it wouldn't budge. Grumbling, she tried again. Alixandria was successful the second time. She stepped into her house, walking through the hallway.

No one was home. Of course not. Her older brother was working and her dad was out of town on a business trip. Her mom was at work as well. Alixandria wasn't complaining, though. She jogged upstairs and opened the filing cabinet on her desk. She pushed all the files back and reached her hand down.

Pills. Syringes. Bags. Desperation.

All were at the bottom. She grabbed random coloured and sized pills. Alixandria ran back downstairs, but in a less strangled manner. As she rounded the corner to go into the kitchen, her cupped hand to her lips, she saw someone sitting at her kitchen table. He sat casually, folding up the pumpkin coloured place mat.

"Gah!" Alixandria half squealed, half protested as the pills fell to the floor. Glaring daggers, she looked at the strange man, more angry than scared. "What the hell?! Do you enjoy being an uncultured swine?"

"Do you?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow. Alixandria pursed her red lips together in a stark line.

"You-whoever you are-are unbearable!"

"I would answer, but I'm not a child," he sighed.

"You just did!" Alixandria exclaimed. The man tipped his head toward her in a gesture of acknowledgment. They were silent for a moment.

"Are you hungry?"

"No," Alixandria scoffed.

"Are you tired?"

"No," Alixandria lied.

"Are you anything?"

"I'm a little ticked off," she muttered. The man nodded his head slowly. "Who are you anyway? Did my parents hire some stupid guidance counsellor?" She asked dumbly.

"Sort of. I wasn't hired but I can give you guidance," he shrugged, standing up. He was tall, a bit taller than Alixandria. He was young too, only around college age. He had black slacks on, and a black dress shirt, the first button undone, with a black vest on over it. Worn running shoes peeked out under his dress pants. Tufts of soft blonde hair peeped under the poorly made tin foil hat that was securely strapped onto his head with green ribbon. He leaned on the open pantry door, looking at Alixandria.

"Then please," Alixandria snapped. "Guide me -" had she time to finish, she would've asked who the man was, but he cut her off with a single laugh.

"It never is that simple."

"You don't get paid to tell me it 'isn't simple'," Alixandria said cynically.

"I don't get paid at all, actually," he said, as if he had just realised the fact. "Why is that?" He wondered softly to himself, looking up at the ceiling.

"Because you're a bloody weirdo!"

"Am I?" He cocked his head, his watery grey eyes giving a deadly stare. "I'm not the one who's at the top of her class, making perfect marks and impeccable potential, yet so broken inside. I'm not the one who relies on the temporary effects of a little tablet to secure my life. People say you never know what you had until it's gone. Correction: You knew exactly what you had, you just counted on a subconscious imaginary force to not take it away." Abruptly, the man stepped forward, taking her right hand. He pulled up the black sweatshirt sleeve to see many small discoloured puncture wounds on her arms, in between demeaning words written in faded black Sharpie marker, blue veins trickling up and down her arm like circuits. "You do this, Alixandria, to live, but this isn't living; this is-"

"Enjoying yourself?" She interrupted, not bothering to cover her arm.

"It sure looks like you are," the man nodded to her arm. Or was he nodding to the pills still on the floor?

Alixandria shrugged. "I pass the time well."

"Is that what you call it? Getting high just to fall back down?"

"I don't fall," she said. "Not exactly."

"Exactly what happens to you, then?"

"You're in no position to ask questions."

"I'm asking anyway."

Alixandria was silent for a long while. Her cold green eyes eventually found their way to his.

"Who are you?" she demanded, hardly expecting an answer.

"I'm the Doctor."

A/n

The story's not going to be as angst-y as the first chapter was, if you can even call that as angst...By the way, just a little afterward, drugs aren't cool. They're...they're just not cool. If you're having issues, talk to anyone and you can get it figured out. If you have absolutely no one, then I'm always here (: Love you all! Even if you aren't struggling, just message me because I love talking to people! By the way, did I have enough backstory? Should I have written more about Alixandria's school day? Did she meet the Doctor (who, even though he is a Doctor, he's an original Doctor) too fast? That's about it!

Comment (I love comments),

Vote,

Leona Howard