Author's Notes: This story came out of the challenge of trying to write a journal entry for my English class in college when I was stuck for an idea. It was suggested to me to write about Amy meeting the Doctor for the first time. I took the challenge a step further and wrote the opening scenes of Season 5 strictly from young Amelia Pond's point of view while using no dialogue.
As with all my stories, I did as much research as I could, and as such, I studied pictures and read through transcripts online for "The Eleventh Hour" as I wrote this. I hope that I have done justice to the characters and ideas of Doctor Who.
Disclaimer: I fully admit that I do not own any of the characters, ideas, or props within. I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy.
Prayer to Santa
Wearing a simple nightgown, off-white in color with small red, rectangles upon it in a pattern, the seven-year-old child knelt on the floor beside her bed, hands folded in prayer. Her red hair fell to the sides of her face as she bowed her head, the long, straight strands covering her head like a thick veil. Her still-changing greenish-blue eyes were momentarily closed as she took a deep breath before beginning her ongoing plea for help. Of all the people she could have prayed to on the night before Easter, she chose the most benevolent and giving entity she could imagine. She had not followed any religion, and she let her heart pray to a man in a red suit who was as jolly as they came and was more generous than anyone else she had ever known. He was the closest thing she had to a hero, and she was certain that if he could manufacture any toy, then sending her all the help he could find would surely not be a difficult task.
She paused in her prayer to glance at the frightening crack in the wall, the one that was responsible for the voices who spoke in her nightmares. She didn't understand why the crack had appeared, and her aunt didn't take her concerns seriously. But, this little girl had known this crack was evil, and she prayed to the only deity she trusted, the deity in the form of Santa Claus.
Closing her eyes and resuming her prayers again, she asked Santa for someone to help her, and her thoughts conjured up the first kind of person she could: a policeman. Yes, a policeman was a protector and someone who solved mysteries. She was certain this was a good choice, and she asked Santa if he could send a policeman to help her with the crack in the wall.
Interrupted by a confusing and unknown noise, the girl paused in her prayers yet again. The clamor sounded like a wheel grinding and gears stripping against themselves. Then, it ended with a bang and a crash, not unlike the sound of a car crashing into another one. The girl quickly told her unseen spirit of Santa that she would be right back. Moving like lightning, she put on her red sweater and a pair of shoes as she ran down the stairs from her bedroom and out into the garden.
The cool, night air struck her, and for a moment she stood in awe. Where there was once a shed was now an explosion of wooden shards as a rectangle-shaped structure, deep blue in color lay in its place. Fallen on its side, its length was at least nine feet across and even a foot more if the white light at the end of it was included. There were black boards attached to the box with text printed on them in glowing white lights, identifying this curious structure as a police box, and this young girl smiled in relief. Santa had found a way to grant her plea for help by dropping a police box into the garden. Without hesitation, she thanked Santa in a whisper and stepped cautiously forward.
The skinny door swung open and a man looking no older than 30 peered out as though having climbed up the side of a mountain. His brown hair was stringy and messy, like someone who had run a marathon without taking a shower. His eyes were shining in a madman's craze, and his smile was both curious and confused. He finished climbing out of the police box, and he was in even more disarray. His entire outfit was soaked from his suit shirt and pants down to his curiously-odd sneakers he wore. His tie hung limply around his neck adding to the war-torn look of his ripped and stained shirt.
He started rambling on about apples and apple cravings. Then he sat on the edge of the police box door and looked inside. The girl tried talking to him, starting simply by asking if he was okay. It seemed the easiest place to begin, as the man looked in terrible shape, but his nonsense answers left her even more confused. She started to wonder if he was the Mad Hatter and had escaped Wonderland. If that was so, then she wondered where his hat was or if he was mad because he had lost his hat. However, he started talking about falling and climbing, and she mentioned the obvious about him being soaking wet. His response made even less sense as he babbled about a swimming pool in the library.
Trying not to get frustrated, the girl changed topics to try and get some kind of normal answer out of this man. She simply asked if he was a policeman. That seemed to give him pause as he asked if she had called a policeman. With relief, she finally thought that there was a conversation to be had. So, she pressed on by asking if he had come about the crack in her wall, but his response was a weird noise as he fell onto the ground. She thought she saw gold glitter emerge from his mouth at his yelp, but decided it was just a really long night, and it was well past her bedtime. Still, she felt some responsibility for this strange man now, like he was a father and yet not a father, and she resorted again to asking if he was okay.
He claimed he was all right and when she asked who he was he babbled this time about still cooking. Now, she wondered if he had also been in-the-library while in-the-swimming-pool and cooking-dinner when he had been thrust from where ever it was he came. Yet he took her aback by asking if she was scared. She nearly sneered at the thought of being afraid and told him instead that it was weird. She had the sense that he might be a crazy lunatic but something in his mannerisms and eyes led her to believe he was not going to intend her harm. She refused to believe that Santa Claus, who had heard her prayers for help, would send her something frightening.
Shaking his head, the young and disheveled man seemed to realize he had his questions mixed up. He clarified his meaning of her being scared and asked if the crack in her wall scared her. To that the girl had no other answer but the truth, and she responded with a yes. The man finally – yes finally – took her concerns about the crack seriously. He quickly described himself as "The Doctor" and requested she follow him, doing just as he instructed when he smacked directly into the tree in the garden. The girl's hopes dashed nearly instantly as she wondered how this bumbling fool would ever get the evil and scary crack in her wall fixed. However, she still had that instinctive need to be concerned for this strange man and asked if he was all right. Shrugging the collision away, he simply told her that his steering was still off, and she took in a deep breath, hoping that this was not a mistake and still hoping that Santa did not lead her astray with a mistaken gift.
After they had gotten inside the house, they got side-tracked in the kitchen as the girl spent the next hour preparing all kinds of food at the Doctor's insistence. It was a feast of insanity as everything this Doctor tried was quickly spit out and discarded without remorse. It was like trying to find the one perfect food that a finicky child would eat, and she didn't understand why she continued to bow to his every whim. If he wanted to try bacon, she made it. If he wanted to try beans, she made them. Yet, nothing was right, despite how he said he wanted it and craved it. Then, like a flash of brilliant light, the Doctor said he wanted fish fingers and custard. The girl hesitated, as she had seen this crazed look nearly a half-dozen times in the last thirty minutes. However, there was that unexplainable pull towards this man, this father figure in a young body, and the girl decided she had nothing to lose with one more try to feed this strange man.
Finally, with the success of fish fingers and custard, the girl was relieved that they could get down to talking again. When he asked what her name was she responded simply with Amelia Pond. The Doctor seemed to like her name and even poked a little fun at it repeating it with an emphasis on the 'n' in Pond. Then, a moment of clarity seemed to strike him as he asked about her parents. It was a bittersweet memory and non-memory for her. She could not really remember much about them or what had happened to them. But, she did tell the Doctor she had an aunt to which they briefly talked about where she was and how the girl had been left home alone.
It was in that moment, she instantly saw on the Doctor's face concern that she might be scared, but she quickly told him that she was not. Her answer then set the Doctor onto a strange rambling, but this one made perfect sense. He realized that she could not possibly be scared and there was no way a young girl would be afraid of much, especially not a box falling out of the sky, a man falling out of the box, or a man eating fish sticks and custard. Quizzically she stared at him wondering where he was going with that. Then, he summed it up simply by telling her that there must be a hell of a scary crack in her wall.
Amelia Pond felt her breath slip, forgetting about the silliness of the night with the man in the box, his swimming pool in the library, and his feast which he demanded and refused to eat. And, suddenly the fish sticks and custard seemed a hundred years away as that crack beckoned her, and she felt those fears open up once again. However, there was something convincing in his eyes - a glint - maybe even trust – or was that just time in his eyes…a very long time – and this girl realized that the Doctor sitting in her kitchen truly believed her about the crack in the wall. Something about the long time in his eyes led her to have faith that for once she would not be brushed aside over irrational childhood fears. Someone had finally taken her seriously. Santa had answered her prayer, and she understood that now more than ever. With the Doctor's help she was now ready to face the scary crack in the wall.