Chapter One
In the small village of Leadworth, there was a house. This house had many rooms, and a lot of space, yet it was empty – except for one little girl. This girl was called Amelia Pond. She knelt by her bed in her room, which was neat, all things considered, and began to pray.
'Dear Santa', she began, 'thanks for the dolls, and the pencils – and the fish. It's Easter now, so I hope I didn't wake you. But honest, it is an emergency. There's…a crack in my wall.'
In the wall of Amelia's bedroom, there was indeed a thin crack, haphazardly shaped, dipping down towards the middle.
'Aunt Sharon says it's just an ordinary crack, but I know it's not,' she continued, urgently, 'because at night there's voices. So, please, please can you send someone to fix it…or a policeman, or…'
She was interrupted by the sound of engines, coming from the back garden. However, it didn't sound like a car, or a motorcycle – this was a noise like she had never heard. After a few seconds, the noise ended with a sudden crash.
'Back in a mo.'
Amelia, taking a torch with her, opened her curtains to have a look. She saw a blue police box, tipped on its side, smoke pouring out. Convinced that this was the help that she was praying for, she thanked Santa and went outside. She walked up to the police box, and to her surprise, the doors on top opened violently, and a grappling hook flung out, attaching itself to the floor. Impossibly, a hand grabbed the top, followed by another, as a disheveled young man rose out of the box, grinning.
'Can I have an apple?' he asked. 'All I can think about! Apples. I love apples. Maybe I'm having a craving! That's new, never had cravings before.'
The young man had long black hair, and had a physical youthfulness about him, but his eyes were much older than the rest of his body. He clambered out of the box, and looked into the smoke.
'Wow!' he exclaimed, excited by what he saw. 'Look at that!'
'Are you okay?' Amelia inquired. A fair question, considering the circumstances.
'Just had a fall, all the way down there, right to the library', the young man explained. 'Hell of a climb back up.'
'You're soaking wet.'
'I was in the swimming pool.'
'You said you were in the library.'
'So was the swimming pool.'
'Are you a policeman?'
'Why?' the young man asked, curiously. 'Did you call a policeman?'
'Did you come about the crack in my wall?' Amelia asked, hopefully.
'What crack?' the young man questioned, obviously having no idea what was going on himself. Suddenly, he fell to the ground, in pain.
'You alright, mister?' Amelia asked. She was too scared to go to him, but she wanted to help.
'Oh, I'm fine. It's okay. This is all perfectly normal' the young man told her, as a wave of yellow energy came out with his breath. It looked almost surreal, like some kind of magic.
'Who are you?'
'I don't know yet. I'm still cooking. Does it scare you?'
'No, it just looks a bit weird.'
'No, the crack in your wall. Does it scare you?'
'Yes.'
'Well then!' the young man announced, jumping to his feet. 'No time to lose! I'm the Doctor. Do everything I tell you, don't ask stupid questions, and don't wander off.' It was at this point that the Doctor walked straight into a tree, and fell.
'You alright?' Amelia asked, wondering if this man had a cognitive disorder.
'Early days', The Doctor explained, 'steering's a bit off'.
Amelia had led The Doctor to her kitchen, where she gave him just what he asked for – an apple.
'If you're a Doctor, then why does your box say police?' Amelia inquired, confused.
The Doctor took a bite out of the apple, and spat it out instantly.
'That's disgusting, what is that?' he demanded.
'An apple!' Amelia announced. That's fairly common knowledge, she thought, especially for someone who says they love apples.
'Apples are disgusting, I hate apples.'
'You said you loved them.'
'No, no, no…I love yogurt! Yogurt's my favorite, give me yogurt.'
Amelia ran to the fridge, took out some yogurt, and handed it to The Doctor. Without bothering to use a spoon, simply pouring it into his mouth, he devoured the yogurt. However, this wasn't to his liking either, as he spat that out too.
'I hate yogurt, it's the stuff with bits in!' The Doctor yelled.
'You said it was your favorite!' Amelia told him, bewildered at this man's stupidity.
'New mouth, new rules. It's like eating after cleaning your teeth, everything tastes wrong!'
'What's wrong with you?'
'Wrong with me? It's not my fault, why can't you give me any decent food? You're Scottish, fry something.'
Amelia raised an eyebrow, but decided she had better cook up some bacon. Once it was ready, the Doctor took a bite out of the bacon, and at first seemed to enjoy it. However, he spat this out too.
'That's bacon?' he asked. 'Are you trying to poison me?'
This wasn't the last food that The Doctor unsuccessfully tried. Amelia gave him beans, which he proclaimed to be evil, and bread and butter, which he threw out of the house like a Frisbee, terrifying the cat in the process.
'I've got some carrots.' Amelia said, hoping that there was something that this man could eat.
'Carrots? Are you insane?' The Doctor questioned. 'Hang on, I know what I need…'
He went through the fridge, and pulled out the two ingredients that he was sure he could eat. Fish fingers…and custard. Dipping them in the bowl of custard, he ate his fish fingers, and luckily, he seemed to like them.
'You're funny', Amelia told him, not exactly as a compliment.
'That's good', The Doctor told himself. 'Funny is good. What's your name?'
'Amelia.' she replied. 'Amelia Pond'.
'Oh, that's a brilliant name!' The Doctor said to her. 'Amelia Pond. Like a name in a fairy-tale. Are we in Scotland, Amelia?'
'No', she explained. 'We had to move to England. It's rubbish'.
'What about your mum and dad, then? Are they upstairs? I would have woken them by now.'
'I don't have a mum and dad. Just an aunt.'
'I don't even have an aunt.'
'You're lucky'.
'I know', the Doctor replied, although in truth, he wasn't all that lucky at all. 'So your aunt? Where's she?'
'She's out', Amelia told him.
'Has she left you all alone?' The Doctor asked, disapprovingly.
'I'm not scared'.
'Of course you're not, you're not scared of anything! Box falls out of the sky, man falls out the box, man eats fish custard, and look at you! Just sitting there. So you know what I think?'
'What?'
'Must be one hell of a scary crack in your wall.'
