I am 23 years old and last year, my life changed in just 24 hours. Even though I gave HIM the folder yesterday, I feel I need to do more… I've decided to write it down; all of it. That will at least get it off my mind, I hope.

So, my name is Sally Sparrow and this is my story. This is the story of the Weeping Angels and the Doctor.

~*~

It all started when, one night, I went off on my own to explore an old, dilapidated townhouse at the edge of the town. Wester Drumlins. See, I like taking pictures of old places and architecture so it attracted me like a moth to an electric bulb. And no-one had lived there for years, so I wasn't exactly trespassing…

Anyway, I jumped the wrought-iron gates and walked along the leaf-mulch path to the house. It was raining slightly, that night but I didn't care. It just added to my exhilaration. At the house, the back door had been boarded up so I kicked them in, protecting myself from the dust and flying splinters.

As I walked down the hallway into an empty room, a musty, mouldering smell filled my nostrils and I had the eeriest feeling that I was being watched. I took a photo of the rusty light fitting and carried on into what looked like a sitting room, though the armchairs there was damp and dirty. I remember there being a crystal chandelier being left on the floor, wrapped unceremoniously in a clear plastic bag. The fireplace was blackened with soot and had ivy trailing down the brickwork.

I took pictures of them as well, but then a peeling piece of faded blue wallpaper caught my eye. Well, not the paper itself, but the wall behind it seemed to have some writing on in black paint. I took hold of the corner and ripped it away. There on the wall, clear as day in the moonlight was the word 'BEWARE' in capital letters.

Then, I dismissed it as a child's silly writing from years ago. A prank. But still, my curiosity got the better of me and I tore away the next piece underneath it to see if there was any more. And there was… 'THE WEEPING ANGEL'. Then I was starting to freak out. I noticed earlier a weathered statue of a crying angel in the overgrown garden, but what harm could a statue do?!

Like a mad person, I ripped of more and more of the wallpaper, hoping to find some explanation underneath. Then, I began to find warnings. 'OH, AND DUCK', 'REALLY DUCK'. That scared me a little but not as much as what was under the next piece. My name. 'SALLY SPARROW' was daubed on the wall. That really freaked me out. How could my name be written underneath old wallpaper that looked at least 40 years old in a deserted house that I had only decided to visit an hour ago?

I was all for turning around and running back home right then, but my intuition told me there was more. Next, there was another warning, 'DUCK NOW'. Unlike the other messages, this struck a chord of urgency in me and instinctively, I ducked, only to have a fist-sized rock crash into the wall where my head was only moments ago. Shivers ran through my body and I shone my torch in the direction of which the projectile had come. The only thing that I saw though was weeds, ivy and the angel statue.

A though came into my mind which reason immediately dismissed, could it have been the STATUE that had thrown the rock? Nervously, I turned back to the nearly-stripped wall. One last piece left, just underneath the last warning. I peeled it off and indeed it was the final message. 'LOVE FROM THE DOCTOR (1969)'. That got me, who was this doctor? How could he have known my name, how could he have known that I needed to duck, when this was written nearly 40 years ago?!

Desperate, I grabbed my camera and ran out through the hall and the broken boards that was the back door, along the path and vaulted over the gate. I didn't want to stay there a moment longer, at least not tonight. I would come back tomorrow, and next time, I would be ready…