Karma.
I knew it was coming from the very beginning, yet he told me I'd be fine.
I deserved it, I cursed Jack, I get punished.
But I never knew it would be this hard.
I've lived for over 1000 years.
I've watched everyone I ever loved perish before my eyes.
I've been to so many funerals.
Laid so many flowers.
Wept so many deaths.
Yet walked away from it still standing.
At first I was happy, me and John, we got married.
Then we were blessed with three children.
First, Oliver Jack Smith.
Forever the joker, I can still remember his face after every prank.
Yet I can still remember his funeral.
Second, James Adam Smith.
He was my clever little boy, he took after his dad.
Yet I can still remember his funeral.
And Third, Sophia Sarah Smith.
Our beautiful little daughter, the light of everyone's life.
Yet I can still remember her funeral.
She was first to go.
Before John, before my mom and dad even.
She got ill.
Childhood leukaemia, she was only 5 years old.
They gave her a year to live.
We held on to her for a year and a half.
But she was hospitalised, and sick, so sick.
And pale, so pale.
Yet she smiled right to the end.
Right till the 21st of April.
Right till her heart stopped.
Right till her bright blue eyes closed.
Next it was mom.
I was prepared.
She lived 75 years.
She was happy.
I wasn't.
I should have looked 54.
Yet, still I only looked 20.
Then dad.
He died only 3 months before his only son's wedding.
Then only 16 years later I lost him.
It was his death that hit me the hardest.
We had been through so much together.
John.
In the months before his death he contracted Alzheimer's disease.
He began to forget me.
But there was worse to come.
He began to forget who he was.
Hundreds of years of memories lost.
The DALEKS.
The Cybermen.
The Autons.
The Slitheen.
All the times he'd saved my life, and so many planets.
Entire civilisations.
And he couldn't remember a single thing.
Not even his beautiful planet, Gallifrey.
Not even the TARDIS.
Then one day he was just gone.
Died in his sleep.
After that the days passed in a blur.
I'd watched my nieces be born.
Jaqueline.
Miranda.
I'd watched my boys grow up and get married.
I'd watched my grandchildren be born.
Peter.
Sophia.
Adam.
John.
Rose.
Then I watched them all grow up.
And have children.
Then finally die.
Then that process was repeated again and again and again.
I tried to commit suicide.
But I'd just wake up again a few minutes later perfectly fine.
I've lived too long.
Now I Rose Marion Smith-Tyler am going to die, whatever it takes.
Whether it breaks down all of reality.
Whether time it's self dies.
Whatever it takes.
I will die.
I am bad wolf.
I created myself.
Now I take every single atom of existence.
And I divide them.
Everything must come to death.
All things.
Everything dies.