"Aislinn? Aislinn?"

I was awoken by a rough hand shaking me.

"Aislinn, you have to wake up, mum's calling you."

Ugh. Great. Up until then I had forgotten where I was.

"Go away, Daniel."

My brother groaned and started kicking the bed.

"Seriously Aislinn. Get up. You can't sleep the holiday away."

Finally accepting defeat, I lifted my head off the pillow and put my feet on the floor, wincing as the cold wood touched my skin. "Tell her I'll be down in a minute," I murmured sleepily. Daniel left my bedroom quickly to go calm the savage beast.

I started absentmindedly flicking through my wardrobe. I wasn't sure why I really took any time to decide what I was going to wear, since all I would be doing that day would be nothing. As usual.

Once I was dressed, I went downstairs to find my mother cooking. Of course.

I found my father sitting at the table reading a newspaper. Of course.

I could tell from the sounds coming from his room that Daniel was locked away, strumming on his guitar. Of course.

But one thing was different.

A tall, skinny man in a pinstriped suit was seated at the table. He had an absentmindedly gleeful expression and a long brown coat. Just looking at him made me feel weird. I couldn't even describe the feeling. It was just...weird.

"Aislinn!" my mother exclaimed, turning away from the stove. "This is Mr. Smith. He's from the government. Says he'd like you to answer some questions about St. Andrews."

The government was inspecting St. Andrews? Bit random. But hey, why not?

"Okay. What do you want to know?" I asked him.

"Just a few standard questions. Let's not bother your parents, why don't we go into the sitting room?" He got up from his chair and walked to the door. I shrugged and followed him.

"So, Aislinn, that's a lovely name," he told me, still smiling like he wasn't even aware that he was.

"Thank you. Mr. Smith, was it?" I asked him. I could tell just by looking at this man that a name like that was far too common for him.

"Yes, John Smith. Now, Aislinn, you're studying what exactly?"

John Smith? You've got to be kidding me. Nobody has that name, I thought, drifting off into daydreaming.

"Aislinn?"

"Sorry?" I snapped out of my dream state. "Right, yes, studies. Cultural anthropology and graphic design."

"Those are two very different fields," he observed. He seemed actually interested. Why did he care what I studied?

"Well, I like culture, I like art, and those two seem pretty similar if you ask me," I snapped at him. He didn't seem fazed. Usually when people have been in the same room as me for this long they're inching toward the door. But not him.

"And you go back tomorrow, yes? You're on holiday?" he asked me further. Shouldn't he be writing things down? Isn't that what official people do?

"Well, yeah, obviously. It's Christmas. But I'll be back tomorrow, thank God."

"Most people wouldn't be quite so excited," he noted, his curiosity visibly deepening. This interview was beginning to creep me out. Why was he being so personal?

"I hate it here," I told him. "Suffocating. Limited. Oppressive. Each day I'm told to live just a regular life, and I don't want that. I want to see the world. I want to see more than just the world. The faster I can get away from here the better chance I have at at least having a shot at a dream."

An odd look came across his face as I said that. Deja vu? Empathy? It was hard to tell. But for some reason it made me feel almost comfortable around him.

"Right. So, Aislinn, have you noticed anything...unusual about the school lately?" he asked me. Ah. We get to the real point of this.

I thought back. Not really. Nothing serious. But, if the government was inspecting it, maybe there was something, and it wasn't my imagination this time...

"Sometimes...I feel like I need to always watch my back. Like there's something watching me. Sometimes...students just disappear. They say that they just drop out or something, but it seems like more. My mate Tommy, he loved it there, he seemed really happy. One day, just gone. It seems almost...connected," I told him, subconsciously looking over my shoulder as I said it. "I probably sound like a nutter," I added, embarrassed.

"No," he murmured. "Not at all. Promise me this, Aislinn, when you go back to school, if you see anything out of the ordinary, I want you to find me."

"But, how will I find you?" I asked him. He gave me a small smile.

"You will."

A/N: First Doctor Who fic, so I apologize if it's terrible. Kind of new territory...