It rained that day. It always seemed to rain these days though, so it wasn't anything new to me. In fact, I quite love the rain, so I wasn't complaining, but still... it seemed to be a ridiculously lot of condensating if you ask me.

On top of all that, I had classes to attend to. Not that I minded those either. The only ones I was taking right now was Creative Writing and Mythology, both of which were actually interesting.

I was actually at one of my lectures when it happened. Of course, you can guess what I mean by 'it', then again, maybe you can't. Either which way, 'it' still definitely did happen, whether or not you believe it. However, since I'm writing all this, I'd better start at the beginning...

My name is Emily Logan and I'm from Painswick, but moved to London to study. I guess things all started back in Painswick though.

My parent's died when I was young, so I lived with my Gran, until she passed away as well a few years back. Since then, I haven't been able to bring myself to sell her quaint little cottage that was left to me, despite the school debts that are quickly piling up. I guess someday I'll go back... just not yet.

See, living in a small town most of my life helped me realize what I wanted to do with my life. Now, before you get yourself under the wrong assumption, no this isn't one of those 'I want to see the world' things. Not to say that I didn't, but that simply isn't my point. See, the world is so darn chock full of... reality! Honestly, you see one corner and you've seen it all, but I digress...

Anyways, what I really want to do (and if you haven't guessed it you're a numbskull) is to write. Now, I don't want to write just any old thing, like pamphlets or guidebooks, let's be honest, who really reads them anyway?

No I want to write stories. The kind of stories that spread worldwide and are bought in bookstores to be taken home, reread until they pages are creased and handed down through the generations to be read again and again and again.

That's a legacy.

And lets be honest, no matter what you believe, it seems a shame to die and leave this world and have the very memory of you disappear as well. Can you imagine being able to look into a world, a future world, where no one knows your name? That you once existed?

Anyway, that's how it started, that's why I came to London and that's how I met him. I was leaving class one day, when I noticed a blue police box outside the building, next to the staircase. Police boxes aren't that unusual in and of themselves, especially in London, but there were two things wrong with this one.

One, police boxes weren't usually blue, at least I always thought they were red. And two, I could've sworn that it hadn't been there yesterday...

I frowned, looking at it, curiously and then approached, trying to open the door. However, it didn't do anything, just rattled like it was locked from the inside.

I stood underneath my favorite red umbrella, staring at it for a while, just thinking. It was such a sad shade of blue, like it was lonely or something. Though a lonely police box was a ridiculous idea... perfect for a story. With that in mind, I raced home to write it down before I forgot; I tended to be little absent minded, so I had to write this stuff down or it would disappear from my brain, never to be thought of again.

After that first day, well, things began happening.

First, my plumbing stopped. It's didn't break or quit working, it literally stopped, no reason or problem, it just stopped. I called the plumber, but apparently I wasn't the only one with problems and he wasn't free for a good while. In fact, there was only one working toilet in our entire apartment and even that was sketchy.

Soon, people were disappearing. No one else seemed to notice, just me. I don't why, but everyone seemed to have some reasonable explanation. Yet, no one else saw the bigger picture. These events by themselves were nothing, but put them together...

Then, there was an outbreak of floods. It was strange enough, all the rivers rising, but I suppose the weather wasn't helping.

Because through it all, it just kept on raining. It just rained and there was no sign of stopping. No one could figure out where it came from, or when it would ever stop. It started slow at first, with regular showers, but a week later it stormed nearly every other day. Even now it rained most of the time with only brief moments of respite from the wet.

The day after my initial blue box sighting, I came out of the school building and there it was. Still there and still very, very real. It was not raining (a small miracle), but I had my umbrella with me just in case. As I looked at it's lonely blue color, I hooked my umbrella handle on it's handle. The bright red made it seem... happier somehow.

As though it wasn't completely alone.

Suddenly a thought struck me and I frowned, reaching up to run my hand across the top, barely tall enough even on my tiptoes. Thankfully, I was fairly tall and my hand did reach. I pulled back and looked at my clean palm, then up at the blue box.

"That's strange..." I said quietly. Just then, a loud voice behind me called,

"Yoo-hoo! Emily!" I turned to see my lifelong friend and conspirator Jesse running up, her polka dot umbrella doing nothing to protect her from the rain and her colorful scarf flapping behind her. She came over, grinning and said,

"Well hello Mrs. Gloom-doom! I see you've made a new friend!" She looked the blue box up and down critically. "Well you're certainly branching out..."

"Oh shut up!"

"Anyway," she turned back to me, "you'll never believe who I saw today walking up the street..." She dragged me off, still chattering, but here's the odd thing. When I glanced back over my shoulder at the blue box, I could've sworn I saw something move in the window.

Oddest thing of all was...

... my umbrella was gone.