A whir and a round of faint clicking sounds, and I watched the police box disappear from my sight, leaving only smashed shed and a relatively disheveled yard in its wake. I felt like my heart was beating in my throat. Something exciting was truly happening in my life! For once! It was exactly as I'd asked Santa for, tenfold.

I stood in my yard for a few short moments before turning and sprinting back to my house, my nightie dancing around my ankles. I ignored the mess that the Doctor had made in my kitchen, the half-eaten bowl of custard still on the table. I ran straight to my room, grabbing the new suitcase my aunt had bought me a while ago and throwing it hastily onto the bed.

I began to pack. I wasn't quite sure of what I was throwing into the case; just simple things that burst into my mind. I only had five minutes! I began to stuff things into the case faster and then leaned my whole weight against the top of it just to get the snaps to shut. I hastily yanked it off of my mattress and the thud of the case against my thighs was almost enough to topple me over. I regained my balance and continued on.

Before going back outside, I grabbed a knit cap and stuffed my head into, wiggling it until my ears were snuggly inside. I pulled my jacket over me, carefully locking each of the buttons to keep out the chill of the night. Grabbing my suitcase again, I ran outside again, this time fully prepared, waiting for the Doctor to reappear again.

I laid my suitcase down, disregarding the damp dirt and sat down on top of it. There was a cool breeze swishing about the trees, blowing strands of my hair into my face. Irritated, I impatiently brushed it from my eyes, tucking my hands under my chin, bringing my gaze to rest where his upended police box had been barely twenty minutes ago; the disaster that had been left in place of it.

Speaking of that, where was he? He said he was coming back, didn't he? He promised. Most people didn't keep their promises very often, but after he spat beans out into my sink and threw toast into my yard, I'd come to the conclusion that the Doctor wasn't most people. At least, I'd hoped he wasn't. He didn't seem like it.

He asked about my mum and dad too. Not many people were willing to do that. People seemed to avoid the topic, almost afraid of what the conversation would bring. I wasn't even sure of what it could bring, so what could I do? I played along for them all, smiling for the adults and pretending to make new friends. But I was always somehow out of place so it didn't matter much in the end. I couldn't remember their faces, their voices or any miniscule details of them. Come mother's or father's day, I sat in the back of classrooms, doodling on my notebook instead of building eccentric cards.

I shifted on my suitcase. My bum was beginning to get uncomfortably numb. It had certainly been a lot longer than five minutes by now, for sure. But he'd promised. So I would wait. I would wait all night if I needed to.

And the crack in my wall...a shiver ran down my spine. Had he fixed it? Was it gone? Was I okay? Tears sprang to my eyes because I knew I didn't have answers to any of these until he came back for me. That's what I would ask him first, I was sure of it.

After I asked him to get me more custard, I suppose. I had wanted some earlier. He'd eaten pretty much all of it. I shook my head and wiped my tears at the thought. Such an odd man. An odd raggedy man that had climbed out of a sideways police box to save me from the crack in my wall.

It was almost comforting.

It would have been more comforting, had he been back by now.

I felt myself begin to nod off, mostly out of habit. I knew it was late, not only because of where the moon was in the sky but because I was almost always asleep by this time at night unless I was reading a book. What had he said about his box, again? It had sounded like the same kind of technical jumble the mechanic told my aunt about our car before asking for wads of money.

Nonsensical.

Very vaguely, I felt myself drift more and more into an unwilling sleep. My head drooped in uncomfortably in my hand and all I remembered was why didn't he come back for me?

I woke up in my bed, tucked safely under my quilt, my pillow comfortably under my neck, and my jacket was hanging on the opposite bed post from me, my hat resting on top of it. My boots were at my door. I glanced around wildly, panic swelling my insides, staggering my breathing. Where was my Doctor? He'd promised!

I threw myself out of bed, running hurriedly, wildly down the stairs, calling worriedly for my aunt. "Auntie, Auntie!" I shrieked as loud as I could, slipping on the hardwood and skidding down the hall. I fell once or twice before I heard her respond to my desperate yelps.

She came running in an instant. "Amelia? Amelia, what is it? What's wrong honey?" she yelled back. She came to a halt in front of me, kneeling and grabbing my face, turning me from left to right, checking me for injuries.

"Where is he?" I wailed dejectedly. "Where's my Doctor?"

Confusion lit her eyes. "Your doctor? Honey Doctor Epreen…"

"Not him!" I yelled, my fists clenching at my sides. At that very moment, my heart must have shattered. He forgot me. He left me behind. He was just like other people. He made me think I was something special. I thought he could help me, I thought he could fix my life and change it and make it better than it was. In barely an hour he'd already made it better but now it was just worse, worse, worse than ever before.

As I sat in the middle of the hallways sobbing inconsolably as my aunt try to desperately help me, I made up my mind. He made me think I could be a fairy tale but I knew better, no matter how old I was.

A fairy tale was just far too much of a life to live up to.

I own none of the Doctor Who world. Reviews are much appreciated; this is my first DW fanfic.