She sat on the hill overlooking her neighborhood. The yellow leaves rustled in the branches above her head, falling down, down, down and landing in her long golden hair. The thunder rumbled, closer this time. She buried her head deeper into her knees. This wasn't supposed to happen anymore; she was supposed to be free. But that feeling was there all the same: something, somewhere, was wrong.

The Doctor sighed, his hearts breaking. Why did they always leave? Was it his fault?

He ran his fingers lightly over the TARDIS' many buttons and pushed down resolutely on the one for "random." He didn't care where he went, as long as it was away from here, so he would let the TARDIS decide; it always knew where he would be needed.

The whooshing finally ended, and the Doctor stuck his head curiously out the door. He wasn't quite sure where he was, except that it was most definitely the planet Earth. His ship had landed at the top of a hill in the middle of a suburban neighborhood; nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, except for a girl. Sitting alone. Under a tree.

And a storm was brewing.

She heard footsteps behind her, but they didn't sound like anyone she knew. She whipped her head around as she scrambled to her feet; strange middle-aged men did not usually approach teenage girls for anything considered good by any moral standards.
"It's all right; I'm not going to hurt you!" the man said, putting his hands up in a gesture of reassurance. She relaxed a little; he sounded nice enough, and his eyes - they seemed older than the rest of him, almost wise, as if they had seen more than their fair share of suffering. To top it all off, the long coat, wild hair, and British accent came together to produce someone almost attractive...

"How do I know that you're not just here to kidnap me or something? You don't happen to have a lost puppy, do you? Or some candy in your car?"
"No, nothing like that. I'm just want to know if you've noticed anything strange going on," the man replied nonchalantly.
"Strange like weird, strange like interesting..?"
"Just strange." The girl ran a calculating gaze over the man in front of her; he waited.
She looked at him and he gazed steadily back. There was something about him, something that made her trust him just a tiny bit. There was something about him that made her suspect that he wouldn't laugh at her, or tell her she was just being silly, or that it was all in her head.
"Anything, you said?"
"Yup."
The girl closed her eyes and allowed a shudder to run through her body. Taking a deep breath, her eyes still screwed shut, she told him: "Something's wrong, I can feel it. I don't know what, I don't know where, but some place out there, there's something that's not right."

The Doctor stared intently at the girl in front of him. She looked young, but was she? There was something about her, something that told him that she understood-or at least was able to understand- a lot more than most people these days. But what exactally were "these days?" When was he?
"Can you tell me what year it is?"
"I'm not insane, if that's what you're wondering."
"No, no, nothing like that. Can you tell me?"
"Middle of November. 2012. New York," she added, rather sarcastically, he thought, and while that explained the American accent, he chose to ignore it.
"How old are you?"
"I don't think I should tell you that." What was he to do with planet Earth; they cared too much about safety. "And I have a name, you know."
"Well, then?" She looked at him as if to ask if he was kidding. "Ah, of course. So you can't tell me anything?"
"Not really. Well, I could tell you the time, as long as you don't get too close."
"I don't need the time, what I need is to figure out what's going on here. You know something's not right, I know something's not right, but what is it?"
"It's probably nothing, honestly! It's this mind of mine. It's always making up stories, telling me things are true when they're really not. Or it used to..."
"What do you mean?"
"Where do you live? Under a rock? Ever heard of something called an anxiety disorder?"
"Yes, but it's not a disorder; it's something you humans made up to explain something you can't understand." At this she lifted her eybrows incredulously.
"It's true," he continued. "Back in the Stone Age it was an advantage; it kept the early humans alive. It's evolved out of so many people now that it's considered an abnormality." She wrinkled her brow, apparently digesting this new piece of information. She was taking this surprisingly well, he thought.
"So what you're saying is..."
"I'm saying that I'm the Doctor, and I need your help."