No one expecting anything unusual to happen on 542 N Rosedale Ct. that day. Mrs. Quinn was still suffering from her illness while 14 year old Mary had been acting stranger than usual. All the other children at the school felt she was a weirdo, a loser, and that she would be better off killing herself. Mary now was getting into screaming fits with her father while her mother laid by trying to hold back tears. Crying would just make the pain she was already in worse. If you asked any student at the middle school down on Briarcliffe, they would tell you the same thing: "Mary is a loser." "She has always been weird." "She uses her mom as an excuse. My grandma is sick and I don't complain about that to my classmates." "Why is she even still here? No one likes her." "She should just end it all. No one will miss her. We even have bets to see when she'll do it."

On a friday afternoon, Mr. Quinn heard a whooshing noise right outside of his house. He was worried it was the unruly teenager and his friend across the street causing mischief. They already threw a chair at their door once as an act of protest. When Mr. Quinn walked out of his front door, there is was: a Police Box. He had seen them in London when his brother did business there. There was something strange about this box. He could see it but it was almost like he didn't want to see it. He walked up to the box and tried to open it. It was locked. He didn't want to wake his wife for she had just come back from the hospital. She had another near-death scare. Out of nowhere, the door of the strange box opened and slammed Mr. Quinn in the forehead. "Oh oh dear, sorry about that. I really need to get that peephole fixed. Strange things those peepholes. They make everything seem so...fisheyed..." Mr. Quinn barely heard what whatever was there just said. He was too focused on the bump that was forming on his head. He finally looked up and there stood a very peculiar man in a tweed jacket and a red bow-tie. "Do you need help in your home?" the strange man asked. "What?" Mr. Quinn asked extremely confused. "You hit your head on my box and I did apologize so I feel obligated to let you back inside your house before I go off." "Yeah sure." When they approached the door, the man noticed a laminated sign on the wall: "Wash your hands upon entering. Do not enter if you are ill." "Are you...mysophobic?" The man asked. "No, it's for my wife. She is very sick." Mr. Quinn replied somberly. "Well lucky for you, my name happens to be The Doctor." With his reply, Mr. Quinn decided to take a leap of faith with this man for it seemed that his wife's time would soon be up so why not take a chance.