A/N Hello everyone! Sorry I haven't posted anything in ages! I sincerely apologize and I hope this new story makes up for it :) Note this story is with the 11th Doctor. See you on the other side puddings! Just a warning this story may have triggering material or references/mentions of abuse. This will be subject to where I want the story to go, but I do not encourage any of you to do it in real life, ok? If you have problems, promise me you beautifuls' will talk to me about it!
I pulled my laptop out from under the covers of my bed, placing the cool plastic machine on my knees and turning it on. The little rectangle hummed and whirred in response as it came to life, screen flickering bright colours. I logged on to the computer, trying to tap the keys as silently as possible. My home screen appeared showing me a picture of Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman leaning out of the TARDIS. I giggled a bit at the thought of them being The Doctor and Companion. Clicking the disk drive button on the side, I quietly opened it, slipped in the first Doctor Who disk I lay my hands on, Vincent and The Doctor, closed it and smiled widely while waiting for the show to load.
My joy was cut short when I heard a shout. It was my uncle storming down the hall. As I heard the footsteps growing closer and closer, I quickly but quietly tried to slam shut the lid of the computer to put it back under my bed and out of sight, but to no avail. The bedroom door flew open to reveal the enraged face of my intoxicated uncle.
-When I was a baby my parents both died in a car accident on the way back from the hospital with me on the day I was born. I had been placed in a carrier secured in the back seat when a truck smashed through the front of the car. I was driven straight back to the hospital, surprisingly without a scratch nor a bruise on my body. My parents were not popular in my family, and the only one willing to take me was my uncle, a spiteful middle aged man with a heavy drug and alcohol addiction. He pretended like he cared about me so the hospital handed me over to him. He's been beating me ever since I was old enough to walk. Eventually I got used to it, learnt how to cover it up for school and act like it was ok. 20 years old is too young to go to an orphanage but he won't let me board at university. As soon as my studies are finished, I'm leaving.-
"What is that? I thought I told you to get rid of that thing, get it out of my face." He yelled, spitting on the ground before walking toward me, picking up my laptop and throwing it aside. Luckily it hit a blanket covering my desk chair so I doubt it was broken. He turned his attention back to me, eyes bloodshot and nostrils flaring.
"Go to sleep." He screamed, raising his right arm and curling his hand into a fist. I braced my arms over my head as he punched me in the stomach, then forearm, before kicking my legs and storming out.
His knuckles had cut my skin in some places; it was getting red and swollen in others. I didn't want to fix it now, I couldn't be bothered. Instead I pulled my blanket up over my head and wished on every fiber of my being that The Doctor would come save me soon in his big blue box, because I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep doing this.
O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
I awoke to the smell of waffles. Strange, that is not something my uncle would do. Couldn't be his stupid bitchface girlfriend, she was only here to do two things, snog the face of my uncle, which was rather discuisting, and to take his money when he died. Opening my eyes, and bringing my hands up to my face to clear my vision, I felt an ice pack on my forehead. I also learned there was a bandage wrapped all the way over my waist, a few Band-Aids on my leg and a few more on my arm. Then I realized I wasn't in my room, or any room I'd seen before for that matter.
This place looked kinda like a hospital, but not quite. The bed I was lying on was soft and the sheets dark blue and warm. There were rows and rows of test tubes, bottles and beakers filled with different coloured liquids, samples and other things I couldn't identify. A metal bench was the center of the room, next to it a small trolley with a red plus on it, indicating medical supplies. This should have made the place feel like a clinic but instead it felt good, safe and clean.
After about 10 minutes to think about where I might be, there were a few possible solutions.
A secret government medical clinic. Unlikely because what government clinic smells of waffles.
Test labs under our house run by my uncle. Still doesn't explain the waffles, or anything for that matter.
A weird hospital, probably with weird nurses and doctors. I'd prefer this one wasn't correct.
The medical bay of the TARDIS. This one is my favorite, but unfortunately the most unlikely.
My list was cut off by someone bursting through the door. I turned my head a bit to see who had come in. It was a bit of a struggle as it seemed like my whole body were weighed down by lead.
"Oh good you're awake. Feeling better yet? I did my best and I am so sorry I couldn't come earlier. Would you like some waffles?" His speech all came out in one long string of words. My breath caught in my throat as all the air was sucked from my lungs when I tried to speak. The person leaning over me, sonic screwdriver scanning my injuries, hair perfected swooped and bow tie neatly done up was none other than The Doctor.
"Still a bit shocked then?" He asked, taking my hand in his and shaking it. "I'm The Doctor. Here to help."
"Oh my god it is you. No, I'm dreaming. Oh no I'm dreaming." I sighed. Of course I am, don't be stupid.
"Nope, not dreaming. This is really truly real." He replied, smiling. "Name?"
"Scarlette Forest. How did you find me?" I puzzled.
"You left me a note. How else?" He asked.
"I didn't leave anyone a note for anyone." I corrected him. This had seemed to intrigue him, he smiled widely and I smiled back.
"Then what's this?" He replied, fishing into his pockets to pull out the psychic paper. The Doctor flipped it open to reveal a note written neatly on the page reading 'Please Doctor, save me. Scarlette xx'. He pointed to the writing with his index finger, a questioning look plastered to his face.
"I didn't write that. I might have thought it I suppose." I offered.
"Oh of course, stupid!" He said, hitting himself in the forehead with his palm. "Psychic transmitting. Your brain delivered the message to me, like a sort of emergency mail box, er, thing."
"Right, of course. That can happen can't it. Alright." I replied. He smiled down at me, and then I realized something. Like everything hit me all at once. I was actually on the TARDIS, with The Doctor, and he saved me. My tired brain couldn't really take anymore. As a sort of mechanism so I didn't get overwhelmed, my brain shut down and I'm pretty sure I fainted, my eyes closing just after I saw The Doctor rushing over the side of my bed.
A/N Did everyone like the story? Ahh I hope it was good! I'm posting the next chapter tomorrow. Thank you for reading. So questions for you to muse over until you press next chapter. Where will Scarlette wake up? Will The Doctor let her stay? Who will fall for who and what happens when her uncle realizes she's gone? See you on the next chapter!