Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. Also, this has not been beta read, if you are interested in volunteering, or spot an error, please post a comment.
Prolog:
She could feel her fingers slipping, even as she increased her grip on the lever, and then the slipping stopped as she lost her grip entirely. It was as if time slowed as she was pulled towards the void and endless possibilities of what could have been streamed through her consciousness, a memory echoed, "all that is, all that was, all that ever could be" And although she supposed it was possible that simile was unnecessary, and time did in fact slow, and she did see the possibilities of a thousand lives, something told her that this had nothing to do with time, or space, or the wonderful alien who swept through them, and was simply her simple human reaction to her own impending death. She was astonished at how calm this part of her was being, especially considering that all throughout these internal musings other parts of her were quite occupied with screaming in anguish as the gulf between she and the Doctor rapidly, yet oh so slowly, stretched further. And just as she was wondering how this moment could possibly go on any longer, and almost hoping it would last for eternity, she felt a sharp pain and everything she knew turned to black.
AN: Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated; I am writing this not for the sake of fanfiction, but in order to practice my prose.
