Doctor who- 11 X Reader Imagines

BirchWood Is No Place To Be

Part 1

Rain pours from the gutter, each drop creating a harsh melody in the puddles below. Thunder cracked in the uncalm skies whilst lighting set it alight. Twigs and branches slam against your window, with each burst of lightning came a trees shadow against your cracked, white walls. You curl yourself into a ball in the corner, hands over ears, eyes tightly shut. The world outside was terrifying, the storms stirring discomfort in your mind. Each crack of lightning and boom of thunder reminding you of an unknown battlefield. They made old memories resurface but the memories weren't yours, you had never experienced anything you would remember. The memories were stolen, not yours to keep but yours to see for some unknown reason.

It was at times like this that your thoughts were the quietest, the storms terrified you but gave you time to think. Sometimes when there wasn't even a storm destroying the perfect calm outside, you liked to sit quietly and wonder why you weren't in a mental asylum. 

To anyone else that would seem like an obscene question but to you that question meant everything. Ever since you were a child you had heard voices, they would keep you up at night and would haunt you in the morning. They would call to you, scream for you, beg for you to set them free but you didn't. You couldn't. It was impossible, they weren't real, well thats what your therapist said. To you they were monsters, lurking in the dark, waiting for your happiness to build so they could crush it with their pain.

Your mother had worried about you everyday, your father on the other hand had run away with another woman because he said that your mothers nagging and you being a nut job was too much for him. When you were younger you blamed yourself but now you blame the voices for the disappearance of your dad. They had never left, they had just become your subconscious, directing you down every path that lead to your uncertain future. It wasn't as bad anymore, they talked to you but not as much as they used to. 

They had grown quieter ever since your mother moved you to birchwood when you were twelve, the building you lived in accommodated at least fifty people in the variety size of flats. Your mother worked for hours upon end, you never saw her and when you did she was tired and vacant. You had many neighbours, some old and some young but none as young as you. 

There was James Montgomery, like you he would quiver in corners at the first appearance of thunder and lightning, he was quite an isolated man and the owners of the building didn't seem to like him. 

Two doors down was Anita Jenkins, here body was scarred from head to toe, there wasn't one night you wouldn't hear her crying for help and shaking her arms in the jacket that confined her.

Next door to you was Susan Tippet, a stern old lady with wire grey hair and black eyes, she would scream at you every time you got close. She had once attacked the maintenance staff when they had gone to her room to apparently fix some problem.

Then there was you, loud bangs brought you to your knees, you would hear voices and occasionally have a conversation with them. It had almost been a year since you saw your mother, you doubted she would recognise you if she saw you now. You were skin and bone, your eyes darker then a black hole. Your body would convulse, your brain would be on fire, everything around you unrecognisable to your eyes. Your body felt like a live electrical current, it was excruciating, it made you sick to your stomach. You were no longer you, you had no memories that were your own. 

The memories you would see showed a girl that looked exactly like the old you, she was happy and strong and brave. A smile was never off of her face. She faced danger with fire in her eyes and by her side was a man that was the exact same. In the memories the man appeared many times but as different people, he would wear scarfs and shirts with question marks but the man that kept reoccurring the most was a man with a bowtie. He was always there, never leaving. He would always appear after the man in a trench coat, he would smile and take the girls hand. He would tell her to not worry as he attached a machine to her head and held her body in his arms as she screamed. The pain she felt was similar to the pain you felt now but nothing was as painful as the pain the girl felt when she thought of a planet named Gallifrey and a time war.

Thats when the memories stopped and you felt empty, incomplete and like you're not who you though you are. The thought could bring tears to your eyes if you had any left, instead it made you violent, you lashed out and hurt the people around you.

The thunder was beginning to fade away, you open your glazed eyes and peer around the darkness of your room. A candle was alight on your bed side table, the dim glow only just showing you your bed. Your legs shake as you push yourself up, you stumble as your long white nightgown catches under your feet. A loud bang resonates around the room as you slam into your bed, shouting sounds from down the hall as heavy feet rush toward you. You scramble under your bed, too afraid to face what was coming for you.

Because it was as that moment when you looked around your room and at the bars that locked you in you wondered...maybe I am in an asylum.

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Thank you so much for 100 reads on this book already.

You guys are awesome!

-Chloe Xx