The alarm clock screamed, ripping through the pink dawn. A brown-haired girl rolled over and faced the clock.

5:45.

An early way to start my last day, she thought, staring up at the whitewashed, cracked ceiling.

"Turn that damn thing off before I send George to do it for you." A voice hollered up the stairs, downing out the steady buzzes of the girl's alarm.

The girl sat up quickly, reaching over and pulling out the plug. She wouldn't have need of time after today. Standing up, she stretched her arms, her honey brown hair falling straight, a little past her shoulders. The mirror in front of her reflected a comely face with sad, green eyes. She had worn this face for two weeks; the sad lines drawn across her face, anger coloring her cheeks, but it would disappear soon. Pulling on a black tank top and beat up combat boots, the girl gave a final, cursory glance around the room. She reached into her jewelry box and took out a locket. It was circular shaped and apparently the only thing her parents had left her when they died sixteen years previous. She had never opened it; the thought hadn't occurred to her, like every time her fingers found the clasps, her mind slipped to focus on something else.

The girl hooked it around her neck; it felt warm against her skin and she remembered when she was a child, she imagined a heartbeat like the ticking of a clock inside, and pretended it was her parents' souls, watching over her.

"Good load of nothing it did." She muttered, jumping down the steps two at a time.

"You, get in here." A drawling voice slithered from the kitchen. The girl froze, a deer in headlights.

I can make a run through the front door, if - she thought, and then realized she had left her bag in the kitchen. With halting steps, she stepped into the kitchen and glared at an older man. He as not unattractive, but his eyes were dead and hungry.

"Hello, George," the girl swallowed, "where is Lydea?"

"Outside," George smiled, reached out and snagging the girl into his arms, "It's just you and me, Reese."

"Get off me or I'll scream." Reese struggled against him. George laughed, freeing one hand to grab her lips in between his fingers.

"Last time, you screamed all night and Lydea never raised a finger to save you. What makes you think this time will be different?" George breathed in Reese's face. He shoved her against the table, her spine awkwardly crushed into the edge. His fingers pulled at her hair and his other undid her jeans button and slid inside. Reese kicked her legs out, but George dodged them, his eyes narrowing.

The doorbell rang and George released Reese, pushing her to the ground. "Don't move," he growled as he left to answer the caller.
For a moment, Reese shivered on the floor, her pant's waistline around her knees, when her senses caught up with her thumping heart. With shaking hands, she buttoned her pants and gabbed her bag, fleeing into the backyard. Reese hopped a short fence and began running as far away as she could.

Reese sat on a park bench, underneath falling leaves, and watched people walk by. They were all different - some smiling, some skeptical, some laughing, some crying - and Reese was sure that every human being was bathed in secrets. Only a trained eye could see each one hiding secrets in the crooks of their elbow, behind their ears, tangled in their hair.

Only two weeks ago, Reese had been happy.

Well,nothappy, Reese reminded herself, Alive,content.

She had been raised, the word loosely used, by Lydea, living with her since the age of two when her parents died. Lydea and a long parade of different men; George wasn't the first to grab at her, but he was the only to go farther. Lydea had always plugged her ears against Reese's screams and pleas.

Two weeks ago, Reese let go, released the last semblance of hope, and decided she would leave. She wanted to be nothing, except a speck of dust with the ability to go anywhere and never feel the heaviness of pain.

Reese sighed, pulling out a small, leather bound notebook, scribbling words. Her mind drifted and slipped into sleep, dreaming of a scraping sound and the black sky glowing white.

Cold air curled around Reese's bare arms, whispering to goosebumps flaring along her flesh. She leaned against a wooden railing, staring into the sparkling, raging ocean below her. It swelled up, begging for her feet, reaching for her legs.

"Soon," she cooed to the water, as if it would be soothed by her gentle tone. Reese bent down and wedged her little journal underneath a heavy stone. She pulled herself up on the balustrade, placing one combat boot against the top and then the other. The wind needled into her skin, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her lips tugged upward, a tragic smile, the skin around her eyes tightened, her hollow cheeks pulled in to her teeth. There was something exhilarating in the moment before she gathered the courage to jump. A certain invincibility, like the second, her feet pushed off, wings would spring from her back and carry her along the ocean breeze.

"I stepped precariously on the edge, screaming out silently, to a million people, who held no ears." Reese whispered, remembering a poem she read once in school, her knees bent, preparing for to leap.

A ripping sound, like a motorcycle engine and an airplane liftoff, shook the ground. Concentration slipping, Reese crouched, holding onto the railing to steady herself. Squinting through the dense trees lining the bay, a white light glinted in proximity. As the light faded, in the dimness, Reese made out a dark box-shaped object and a figure stumbling from it. The silhouette advanced to the bridge; as it got closer, she could hear mumbling and exclamations. As it moved into the light of the lone streetlight, it was revealed to be a he, a lanky, tousled hair man, wearing a tweed suit, long coat and oddly, converse sneakers. He was handsome, in a strange, eccentric sort of way. Spotting Reese on the edge, he strode towards her.

"Hello! Can you tell me what day it is?" he asked, giving her an open mouth grin. Reese's shock had subsided and the deathly confidence streamed through her body again.

"September 28." she answered, standing up to stare into the eyes of the ocean.

"The year?" he said, putting on square framed glasses, and tapping a silver utensil against his palm.

"2011?" Reese rolled her eyes, deciding the man was obviously an escapee from some mental institution.

Looking up, the man's brown eyes grew wide, for the first time, noticing Reese's position on the railing, "What are you up there for?"

Sucking in a great lungful of air, Reese shrugged her shoulders, settling for the truth, since she wasn't long in the world. And she didn't want to be known as a liar. "I was trying to kill myself before you interrupted."

"Why would you do that now?" the man put his elbows on the fencing, his chin in his hands, "You'd be amazed at all the good things in this world."

"Not when you're me. Not when every time you're doing all right, someone needs to kick you down. Not when no one will ever love you, because of what's been done for you." Reese squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears, "Whatever world your head is in, you are one lucky bastard to not be in mine."

"I've been to several worlds, and pretty girls like you can have beautiful lives. Even the ones as sad as you. I'm not sure what happened to you, but this won't fix it. The ocean doesn't care about you; it'll swallow you whole without a single care, but I'll care. I'll be watching and I have two hearts, more than enough to try to save you."

A sob broke past Reese's lips. She looked down and the man's eyes connected with her. They were as sad as her's; the same lost, wandering gaze. For the first time, if only for a minute, she felt at home in those eyes.

"Tell me what happened, I can try to fix it." The man placed a hand on Reese's boot, "After all, I am the Doctor."

Reese held up a hand, trying to hold back the heart-wrenching sobs that threatened to rack her body. The Doctor was silent, watching the stars and listening to her soft cries. Finally, she slid down to sit on the balustrade, legs dangling away from the sea. She glanced at the Doctor, wondering why her heart yearned to trust him. She wanted to trust someone; something substantial and new. Even if he turned out to be a serial killer, she'd much rather die, feeling close to something real.

"My caretaker's boyfriend has been," She paused, collecting her breath, "hurting me for the past few weeks. I can't do it anymore. Be in a place I don't belong. You probably don't understand, with all your confidence, but I feel as if I'm not supposed to be here, in Boston, on this planet, even in this universe. I'm meant to be a million years, a million miles away. It's all I was trying to do. I want to disappear, if I can't feel complete." Reese pressed her hand against the right half of her chest, "I'll never be whole. Especially not purely whole again with George's fingerprints staining me." A shuddering breath. "Have you ever been that hurt? Feeling your heart shred, your essence crumble. . ."

Trust her, a voice whispered to the Doctor. His forehead crinkled; the voice sounded almost identical to the girl in front of him, but it was stronger, powerful. "Yes, I have been hurt. But you don't see me jumping off of every bridge. Well, except that one bridge in New New New New New New New New York - You get the point - City. . . Anyway, sorry, everything that's happened to you, you have to let it heal. And time will make that happen. I have no home either, I'm a traveler, and I've had much time to let my hurts heal. I want to give you that chance." the Doctor stared into the lonely green eyes, reflections of his brown ones, "What is your name?"

"My name is Reese Legaterra."

"Like the candy? Ooh, I remember when they invented them, quite the thriller, they were. I'm sure you have had one before."

"Of course," she smiled, a flash of straight teeth," My real name is Theresa."

"Which would you rather I call you?"

"Reese."

"Well, all right, Reese, I was going to ask you if you, my sad-eyed jumper, will travel not just this world, not just this universe, but all of time and space with me?" the Doctor's eyes crinkled around the corners as he grinned at her, "I don't think this was coincident; I was meant to find you and show you that the world isn't as bad as it seems. I can help heal you, give you all the time in the world."

He stood back and held out a hand for her. She stared at it, watching it glow gold in front of her eyes. Fate. Time. Healing. She hesitated for a moment, recalling her earlier speculations, "You're not a murderer, right?"

"Not of you."
Reese half-smiled and grabbed his hand, and he pulled her after him towards the woods.