I'm crawling.

I'm feeling like a worm squirming in the dirt, desperately trying to escape the sun.

But it's too late. I'm already burning and the heat is biting my skin like thousands of needles.

The pain is covering my body like an acid soaked blanked. It's wrapping me up more and more, takes the breathable air away, steels the last bit of sanity that's left over for me.

But I have to go on.

Your tender voice inside my ear is pushing me forward. It's been there all the time, all these years I have spent inside this torture chamber. The voice sang me to sleep, told me stories, and eased me when fear came over me like an unstoppable Tsunami. You stood against it and protected me like a wave breaker.

I must go on. I have to stand the pain that burns inside my guts.

You can be proud of me. During the last five hours I managed to crest already ten staircases. Sixty are still in front of me. I don't know if I will make it, if my body will manage these strains. My mind is strong, but the flesh is falling apart. Even a Timelord has his limits and I have crossed mine already hours ago.

My fingers leave a bloody trace. It's a picture, painted with agony. A lost memory, that no one will ever see.

It hurts so much.

I am tired. My eye lids weight a ton and I catch myself, taking a break more and more often. I just want to sleep. Why can't I just sleep? Here and now and never again.

But there it is: Your voice.

At the beginning, very far away, but the suddenly so close, as if you would be standing right next to me.

"Doctor!" the voice says. "Doctor, you have to fight!"

I want to fight, but it has become impossible. My legs are denying their work, my arms don't manage to drag my body up the dusty stairs any more.

But I have to go on. It will be the last thing I do in my far too long life and I will be doing it for you.

It is my fault!

Your voice echoes inside my head, but you… you're still not there.

Clara, come back! Please, please come back!

I want to undo what happened, want to correct my mistake, but I can only achieve this with my own death. Again and again and again.

The physical pain that hits me all the time, short time before it ends, it already drives tears into my eyes.

Clara, I'm so scared. I can't stand this any longer, but I must not give up. Because if I would, you would be lost and there would be no meaning of life, left over for me.