April 8th, 1865, 10:37pm
Knock knock.
"Come in."
She opens the door and goes in. There, sitting at a desk is a man, pen scratching away. This man is tall, very tall, and seems to his observer to be exhausted. His high collared shirt is undone at the neck, his hair rumpled, his eyes bloodshot. Finishing his sentence, he looks up.
"Ah, hello Mary, what can I do for you?"
She walks slowly over to stand in front of the desk, her movements rather stiff. With her hands behind her back, she says nothing, merely watches him.
"Mary? What's going on?"
He stands up, leaving the paper. She has to raise her head to keep him in her vision.
"Mary, love, I'm a very busy man with a war to plan, so if you wouldn't mind?"
She studies him for a moment more, then speaks.
"I bring a message from the Mother Consciousness."
He sighs. "Please, Mary, it's too late for foolishness like this."
"A message from the Mother Consciousness for President Lincoln."
"Mary, unless this has something to do with the war, please go away." He seems to brace himself, as though expecting a scolding, but none is forthcoming.
"The message pertains to your war."
"Mary?" He looks concerned now, as though finally recognizing that something is not as it should. He sits back down at his desk, his wary eyes never leaving her blank ones. "Very well, deliver your message."
"The Mother Consciousness wishes you to know that this war has brought and will bring thousands and thousands of deaths and will lay waste to your nation. It will divide your people, ruin your reputation with other, more powerful nations, and will sink you back years of progress."
"I know," he says, rubbing his eyes. "I know all of that. That's why this has got to end!"
Slowly she smiles, a grim, emotionless smile he hopes will never appear on his wife's face again.
"No, Mr. President. That's why this must continue. And you will make it so." She reaches out, her tiny hand stretching across the desk to lightly tough his suddenly panic-stricken face. He sees a flash of light, then nothing. She watches him collapse on the desk, a small triumphant smile twisting her features. "Thank you, Mr. President. You will be a great help to our cause.
A.N: Hello! Thanks for being brave and giving this a shot! Sorry this is so short, the first actual chapter will hopefully be up later today. Like I said, this is for a competition, so I will probably be constantly changing and updating this. I'd love any feedback, as I'm just not as solid on this as on my other Doctor Who fanfiction, The Mystery Girl (go check it out if you haven't!). So let me know what you think! Thanks ever so much!
-Forever the Optimist