A/N: So I know it's been a long ass time since I wrote anything, but I thought I'd upload this story I had to write for my English class. I know The Doctor is OOC, but bear with it. I had to write like Joseph Conrad, and all he does is write adjective filled depressing writing. So this is my interpretation of it but put into the world of Doctor Who. Also the underlined words were vocabulary words that we had to use, and I was too lazy to go back and un-underline them, so just ignore the underlines.

Simple one-shot.

Enjoy:)

The bustling crowd, all yelling over one another trying to get me, him, her, it to buy their wares, did nothing to lighten the darkness in my hearts. Everywhere aliens of all different kinds littered the streets, their constantly moving feet sending up soft clouds of dust, pushing past each other to get to the overstuffed stalls whose wares spilled out, being bought, sold, resold, and everything in between. Men and women, children and moribund shoppers, looking for the best deal to their last breaths. With all the bodies crammed together and the double suns beating down, temperatures were near sweltering, and the not-so-pleasant stench of sweating bodies mixed with the exotic perfumes being sprayed form the alien peddler down the way reached my nose in a rather abrupt, discordant way. Many times I'd been to this market on Kalligor One, some of my better memories came from my time spent here—I'd been here with her only weeks before she was lost to me. So many happy memories, I'd hoped that maybe, if there was any form of God at all, that something, anything would help to fill the never ending aching void I felt in the very center of me, where I once knew my hearts to be. That perhaps that exuberantly bustling crowd, oblivious to the hardships of the world, going about their days in an almost supercilious manner, that just possibly they could remove my mind from the ominous darkness I felt brooding inside me which I'd felt since that fateful day at Canary Wharf, where I'd lost the one thing truly important to me. But instead the market did nothing to lift my spirits, quite the opposite in fact. Rather than help to fill the void, it only surfaced caustic memories I would've preferred to forget. An up-welling of dismal thoughts which served only to hasten my descent into austere but increasingly welcome madness.

Before she left, before my existence was reduced to nothing but a meaningless, abject pile of lamentable tales; stories, experiences that would leave even the most intrepid of Time Lords in a lugubrious stupor just from hearing of them, let alone actually living through them. Before all that, I would have swaggered down this market, enticed by every little thing that glittered, caught my eyes, told me she would love it. My Rose. My fragile Rose, so beautiful, but so achingly human. Rassilon, if the High Council of Time Lords could see what I'd become because of one puny human, one fragile girl—How did this happen?

"You have someone special, Sir? She'll love this, Sir!" An alien girl with red skin and hair, small horns coming out of her head stood in front of me, holding a small pink rose quartz pendent in her hand, a brilliantly luminous smile on her face. So carefree, so full of life. Completely oblivious to my tenebrous existence. Looking at the pendent, I felt my hearts wrench at the sight, never feeling more desolate. I waved my hand at her, trying desperately to side step her, not wanting the evocative image in front of me any longer than absolutely necessary—which to me, was not at all.

"No. Sorry, no, no thank you." As quickly as one could when trapped between bustling bodies in the bantam excuse of a roadway, I stepped around the girl, averting my eyes from the pendent, so reminiscent of my pink and yellow human.

Rose. Of all the things, she had to have been human. Humans. So fragile, so breakable, such totally and utterly lost little things. Barely learned to walk, yet think they're so mighty and big, when most are only a tiny footnote in the scheme of things. With infinitesimal life-spans, nothing compared to that of a Time Lord. They were all just children, weak and helpless children. Only Rassilon knew how many times they'd had to have been saved, not even capable of defending themselves. Rash creatures, the lot of them. Turning on each other when frightened, willing to murder if only to save themselves. The group on Midnight had been only too keen to show me that. Just when I think humans can't be all bad, just naive, just children-they prove to me over and over how wrong I am.

Rose had shown me I was wrong, had shown me redeeming qualities in the human race. But now even she, even my light, illuminating the darkness in me until nothing remained, even she was gone.

Rose, with her golden eyes, shining luminously whenever she smiled that adorable tongue-in-teeth grin. She was able to banish the darkness, set it ablaze; vanquish the world drenched in blood which I now belonged to—Had always belonged to, though I'd forgotten until it all suddenly crashed back upon me after Canary Wharf. After the day that the light, my light, disappeared.

"'Scuse me," a cheery, high pitched voice said from my right, pushing past me in the opposite direction I was headed in. The voice sent ice shards tearing through my hearts. No. It was impossible. She couldn't be here. Out of the billions, the trillions of creatures inhabiting the universe, it would only make sense that a few sounded alike. But still, the voice had sounded just like hers. I could almost see her, almost hear her calling out-

"Doctor!"

"ROSE!" I found myself calling out as I spun around, reaching a hand out. Even I could hear the desperation, the anguish laced with hope that poured out of my voice. The market, so full of life only moments before, had gone eerily quiet. Not a soul moved. I could feel all eyes upon me. And not one of those eyes belonged to her. She wasn't there. She could never be there.

I let my hand drop slowly, feeling my face contort itself back into a blank mask, hiding my true emotions. I turned on the spot, pushing past the still fixed shoppers and hagglers, my journey now un-hindered.

If I had thought earlier that I'd been going insane, there was no question to it now. And, Rassilon, after everything I'd been through in my nine hundred years, being insane shouldn't have surprised me. After losing everything, everyone I cherished, loved, what else could I have been?

Approaching the familiar blue police box, I somberly reached a hand into my pocket, grabbing out the key on the frayed blue ribbon which was all I had left of my pink and yellow human, my Rose.

Stepping into the TARDIS, I shut the door behind me, leaning against it for a solitary moment. Often I wondered why I kept the key, why I continued to use it, even though the memories associated with it nearly tore what remained of my soul to shreds. It occurred to me only now that my fractured mind, my broken hearts still held hope that she'd return to me.

Walking over to the console, I felt a glare, made more out of pain than anger, contort my face.

"Who am I kidding? They never come back."

Pushing the lever, I sent the TARDIS, myself, back into the Time Vortex. Alone, like always.

And that's it. Drop a review if you so wish, even if they're just to tell me I suck and should never write again: ). All are excepted, all are read: ).