Author's Note: So, here's my new story about Mels' life growing up in Leadworth with her parents( well, its really much more complicated than that). I suppose you could consider this section a prologue, since it is a bit of an introduction to the story. I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are always appreciated:)
The tiny room was dark, bitterly cold, and above all else, terribly unsettling. Besides the occasional shimmer of moonlight radiating through one lone window in the upper corner, the tattered walls enclosing the small child might have resembled those of a prison. Though in theory, such a place should have been completely silent, a series of hidden crevices allowed for the soft plopping of raindrops to mingle with the dreary howl of the wolf.
But nature's nighttime melodies were certainly not the only sounds that rang constantly in the ears of the trembling little girl. Perhaps the ominous creaking of floorboards and haunting echo of the wind were the true sources of her discomfort. However, as the heart of the traumatized, brown skinned girl thumped at an even more alarming rate, it seemed impossible for her to escape the terrifying truth.
The eerie, repetitious cadences did not stimulate her smoldering fear, rather, it was the blur of memories and dreadful nightmares that compelled her to crumple her frigid body beneath the threadbare blanket.
Frightening sobs and images galloped through her fragile head, causing her to shake violently.
Normally, she could will herself to sleep, but because she was lying upon a hard, metal cot, in a strange and foreign place, it became nearly impossible for her to suppress the troubling dreams.
"Me-lod-dy…" the deafening cackle was resounding through the mind of the whimpering child, as she recalled the image of a ghastly looking woman with a black eye patch. Though the woman's devilish smirk gradually faded into a foaming sea of darkness, even more paralyzing sounds and sights ravaged the mind of the tiny girl.
Like a montage of clips from a horror film, blurs of the dastardly guns and the terrifying nights of uncertainty, resurfaced a time when she was enclosed in a parasitic suit, lying in wait for the ominous creatures that could never be remembered.
But that was not all, for there were many other visions of strange people-the pretty red haired girl with the sparkling eyes and the loving Roman with the silly nose, who the young child attempted to cling to desperately, knowing full well that they held within their grasp the key to her salvation.
Tonight, though, she felt closer to them than she ever had before, until, suddenly, as her smooth fingers drew closer to their precious faces, her parents laughter contorted into distorted screams. In a matter of seconds, both of them vanished completely, like specks of dust.
As the petite droplets cascaded down her frigid cheeks, the child of the TARDIS buried her face shamefully in the sole of her flimsy pillow, wanting ever do much to suppress the murderous inclinations that poured into her brain.
But, even then, The vile, serpent-like laugh resurfaced again and again, serving as the constant reminder of her one and only mission.
No matter how much her weary heart struggled against her given fate, Melody Pond knew with increasing certainty that she had been born for one sole purpose—to kill the Doctor.
The shivering girl's ginger locks folded precariously over her soft pillow. Because the scent of her mother's lipstick was still evident on her rosy cheek, she stroked the precise spot where she had been kissed, as if to console her nagging doubts.
Shifting her heavy comforter over her frozen limbs, Amelia Pond attempted to fall asleep peacefully. Unfortunately, a pang of loneliness barricaded the path to her much desired slumber.
She supposed her feelings were irrational, since she had a wonderful Mum and Dad who loved her unconditionally, and a kind, but slightly paranoid Aunt Sharon who constantly worried about her.
Not to mention, she had plenty of friends—well, actually maybe one or two, but at least she was not completely alone.
Coming to grips with reality, Amelia realized that her only genuine friend was a stubby boy with long sandy brown hair, and a peculiar looking nose.
Even though young Rory was always willing to partake in her ridiculous games, such as reluctantly dressing himself in a ruffled tie and pinstriped suit, the glossy glimmer coming from his deep blue eyes revealed to her that he was no different from every other person in her life.
The root of her lonesomeness lay in the fact that nearly everyone she had ever known or loved could never take her seriously.
Her rants about the raggedy Doctor were always dismissed as fables and dilutions.
Matters had become so unbearable for her parents that every time she so much as mentioned her imaginary friend, they would fret and hastily send her off to another agonizing visit with the psychiatrist.
Every single time, she desperately pleaded with her parents not to throw her back into that prison-esque therapy session, but they continued to repudiate her subtle objections.
Why can't they just listen to me? Amelia groaned inwardly, her shimmering tears gracing the damp pillow.
More than anything else in the entire universe, Amelia Pond wanted to be loved. She wanted to be cared for, protected, and understood. Her innocent spirit yearned for a friend who would be capable of trusting her in any and every circumstance.
Only once in her lonely little life had she ever encountered such a person. Even in that very moment, the simple image of the man with the floppy brown hair, resonating in her mind, was enough to warm her heart.
Though the raggedy Doctor may have been mad, impossible, and completely ridiculous, he had possessed an alien like quality of wisdom. Perhaps it had been than distinct aura of discernment that had allowed her to freely express her occult fears to an absolute stranger.
For the first time, she had genuinely felt important, simply because the man with the blue box had heeded her words without question.
But just as quickly as he had crashed into her life, the Doctor had drifted off, promising to return in a mere five minutes, probably never suspecting that the frightened red haired girl would cling to those last words for the rest of her days, still believing them completely, since they came from the only man who had been willing to listen.
At long last, the heavy eyelids of the fatigued girl sifted shut, the lingering thoughts of her imaginary friend slowly slipping away into a foggy haze of shattered memories.
Unfortunately, the naïve child had once again failed to recall the danger that still lurked beneath her jaded fantasies.
Though it was evident that she remembered the raggedy man vividly, what she could not seem to recall was what she had been so dreadfully afraid of, or why the Doctor had left in such frenzy.
She was also completely oblivious to the fact that theoretically, she should not have been able to remember such things, as they had never actually happened, at least not in her version of reality, anyway.
But it all made perfect sense when one considered the impossible, which was that young Amelia Pond was no ordinary girl, in any way, shape, or form.
Even then, at that precise moment, the girl who didn't make sense had not the slightest inkling of the unseen purpose she was serving. Nor did she feel the hideously slimy fingers that were clasping her pale neck, as a low, ominous laughing resounded—one that would have otherwise been mistaken as an eerie wave of silence.
Note: I hope that last bit freaked you out! More chapters should be coming soon. I'm thinking that they will be sort of different from this section because there will be more of an interaction between characters. For anyone who enjoyed this story, you can go to my profile page to check out some of my others. Also, I would recommend checking out some other stories featuring Mels by different authors( You can find some also on my profile page under favorite stories). Thanks for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated:)