Some believe everyone has their own vision of heaven, that when you get there you experience something unique to you. To fulfill something you couldn't while alive, see your parents one more time, or something else. Well this is the story of a boys heaven. A young little British boy, who was never known. Not in his life at least.
The young british lad, was named John. John was born on a rainy day, under the stars in Northridge state park. He was born into the family of Gafrray, a rather poor family, but they handled themselves. John himself, was always rather short and scrawny, a ginger on the outside, but the stereotype of "soulless" did not fit him. He had more soul than anyone in his family. To hide his skinny limbs, when he grew up he would always venture out with a trench coat on, although he did look a tad ridiculous at times. He went through phases with is clothes. At first he enjoyed clothes that made him look fancy, then he had a thing for more of a hippy look, then onto scarves and jackets, then the trenchcoat.
His family lived in a crummy house, in a crummy neighborhood. They had little money, as previously mentioned, and so they lived in an apartment complex. They had no connections to their distant relatives, so they had no means of asking for loans from them. On more than one occasion, John was nearly taken away from his home, the life not being fitting for a child. But he stayed with his family. He was raised watching people beaten and bullied on the streets, at school, and after his father took up drinking, at home. This is when he first realized his aspiration. He wanted to help. He first dreamed of the army, then CIA, but settled on police. So he could help locally. Help the people he knew.
At school, he always was top of his class. He was brilliant at all subjects, except that of making friends. He noticed different groups of people, none he liked. There were the bullies who would harm people just for the pure point of doing so. The popular kids, who showed absolutely no free-thinking, just falling into their ranks, and eventually bringing others in. There were also the quiet ones, who looked a tad odd, but stayed quiet in the shadows. People came and left. He knew a Steven, a Rosemary, a Barbara, and even another John. But they all left, and he never again saw them.
The one thing that was always with him, was the river. There was a small river outside his school, going all the way through his town, and into the next. He would sit beside it and watch its beauty. He would tell his secrets into it, and watch them float away, far away. It was always there.
He always wanted to leave his home, to travel the world. He wanted to see what other places were like, how other people acted, just anything besides his bland life. He read books of far away places. Places still existing, places from the past, even places in the stars in old Sci-Fi books. But he never left his home.
Then one day, when the new TV arrived, the first TV, he was taken away that day. He saw a whole new world through the TV. He saw the colors, he saw the people and the places, he saw everything. The TV could take him anywhere and everywhere. Then he saw the box.
It was just an ordinary old box, sitting beside the TV, discarded. He took the box out into his room, and studied it over. He began coloring it. Whatever color came into his head, he put down on the box. It was his world. He would climb inside and close his eyes, and it would take him away. Wherever he wished. He would be inside for hours, thinking of adventure and danger, romance and conflict. Then he'd have to come back. But he'd always return. The box was always there, in that old corner in his room. Always ready for adventure and travel.
As they boy grew, he always stayed the same. He was always bookish and quiet, following the rules and never doing anything too outgoing. He dreamed of being adventurous and wild, and often tried to get up the courage to do so, but always failed. His fathers drinking grew worse over time, now it would be a rare occasion the boy saw his father sober. So the boy hid away in the only safe place he knew. His box. The box where he could be anyone. Where he could help people.
Then he met Kevin. Kevin Chei Foreman, was an odd boy. He moved into the school in the middle of the year. His hair was always messy, he often wore the same old black hoodie, and was critical to anyone who interacted with him. John avoided Kevin the best he could, afraid of what could happen. But the one day, as John exited his school, he saw some of the school bullies grab Kevin and pull him out behind the school. John, fearing the worst for the boy, followed close behind, but out of view.
The boys dragged Kevin a little ways into the woods and began furiously beating on the boy, until he lay limp on the ground. John hid behind a bush, watching the whole events, until he had enough. Sneaking into a nearby portable class, he grabbed a screwdriver and returned to the woods. The first boy fell as he impaled it into his back. The second, with the knee. And the third ran, ran far away, farther than the river.
As Kevin slowly opened his eyes and looked up to see his guardian stand above him, something changed between them. Offering his hand and a home to clean up in, John quickly befriended Kevin. Soon they were inseperable.
They spent each day after school together, reading or watching TV, or exploring out into the woods. John barely had time for his box anymore. Until he showed Kevin.
It was a rainy day, so the boys could not leave outside, then suddenly out went the power. As they sat around, holed up in Johns room, John spotted the old box sitting away. He pulled it out, and climbed inside. At first Kevin scoffed at the idea, but John was taken away. He imagined himself as a alien hero, saving the universe. As Kevin watched his closest friend have a blast in the box, eventually he too joined him inside. And that's how they spent each afternoon after.
The river. Always so blue, always so calm and peaceful. It flowed in a perfect motion everyday, all day, never being disturbed. Until the day a new color entered its stream. The day color entered it. The day the flow was stopped by an object in the river. A body.
John left school early, it having been a half-day, and ran home quickly to play away in his box. He didn't take notice of the unusual quietness of the home, and entered his room, locking himself away from the world. Today he was a police officer, entering a call box to report a murder to his station. Then he heard the bang. His door flung open, his father barging in. He grabbed John by the collar of his trench coat, throwing the boy over onto the floor, and stood above him. He just stood there like a stature, unmoving, expression unchanging. So John looked away with fear. He was grabbed, moved to face his father, a look of pure anger on his face not, right in front of John's own.
His world went black.
He awoke in a white world. White walls, white ceiling, white blanket, white everything. It was the one place he hoped to never travel within; a hospital.
He lay in a patients dress, in a long square room. Next to him he saw the sleeping form of a young blond girl, much younger than himself. What had happened to her? What had happened to me?
As the doctor entered his room, and explained to him the serious condition his heart was in after being protruded by a knife, he gave him a few moments alone. The next news he received was worse.
His father was no in court, for the crime of hospitalizing his son, and murder of his wife. She was found dead in her bedroom, a knife wound to the head. John lay in shock for countless hours, before once more his world went black.
He was awoken again, a high pitched beeping sound breaking him from his slumber. But he was informed in reality, it was his death. His heart constantly gave out, three times already, but each time he'd been revived. But for increasingly shorter times. They didn't think he could last for then thirteen times. Ten to go.
On his fourth stretch he put his scarf around and stepped out into the world, to say goodbye for the last time. He watched the leaves fall from trees, watched kids play in the park, and stopped for a minute to see the closing moments of a womans funeral. His mothers.
On his fifth stretch Kevin visited him, bringing him the most glorious salad he'd seen in his life. All kinds of toppings were stacked upon it, and they feasted like kings on that day. As he began to leave again, Kevin made him promise one thing.
"Don't leave me John. Don't leave me with these people, in this world. These bad people, in this corrupt world. It will find a way to ruin me too."
On his sixth, John was angry. Angry at the doctors who tried to help him. Angry at the shows on his TV and the food he was given. Angry at each and every little bit, feeling this world cheated him, cheated him of a long happy life. Then he spotted a little umbrella, covered in a rainbow display of color. And that brightened his face.
On the seventh he enjoyed television once more. He watched an opera, based off an old Edgar Allan Poe story. As he watched the colors blink out for the last time, the people once more disappear, he wondered when it would be his turn to click off.
On the eighth, he met Susan. He finally got up the courage to scoot his bed closer to hers and introduce himself. She told him of the damage to her brain she had gotten from her Grandfather, which brought her here. They shared tales of their lives, experiences the other would never know. Susan was the light of his world now. He spent the rest of his eight with her, before she was taken away for surgery. He never say the little ray of sunshine again.
On his ninth he mourned her. He mourned how she, and so many other innocents had died. How many more would have to die?
And on his tenth he met a cop. He had previously revealed his dream of being in the police to a nurse named Martha, who in return brought one in the meet the young lad. He had so many questions spill out to the man, everything he'd ever wondered. And not just of being a cop. Of the mans life. Where he'd been, the adventures he'd had, everything. The cop shook his hand and left that night, leaving John to wonder why Martha waited until this day to bring him in.
He was hardly awake for the next two, only seeing glimpses of life. Then the thirteenth, he lacked even the basic strength to open his eyes. All he could do was hear.
He heard to arguments of the desperate doctors trying to save him. The sound of metal objects clicking together. And the desperate cry of his father, yelling at the doctors to do better.
"Do more! Hes dying god damnit! Save him!"
"I'm only the Doctor! I can only do so much!" They yelled back, after being lashed out for minutes on end.
Then the sound went out. He experienced death.
The next thing he saw was light. An area of bright white light. He stood alone in it, not a sound or movement in sight. He knew this was his.
He thought of his life, the box he'd loved so deeply that took him for adventures everywhere, and it appeared before him, ready to take him again. He remembered his dream of the police, and the box grew, turning blue in color to represent a police box.
He remembered the worlds he'd read of. Both past and future, and suddenly a landscape appeared around him, encasing him in a new world. He remembered the people he met in his life, and a Steven appeared. And a Rose, and a Barbara, and a Martha. He remembered little Susan with her brain issue, so he gave her the strongest brain of all, and became the grandfather she never had, but always wanted.
But he remembered the evils. The bullies who tormented just for the sake of doing so, and he encased them in metal, just as he'd seen them. He remembered the emotionless, and they became robots. The quiet ones, became faceless, always hiding away in the shadows. But most of all, his father, his cold emotionless stare. He became a statue. A crying statue, weeping for his son. But he did not make him alone. He gave him others, just as mournful.
Then there was Kevin. He made Kevin just as he had been, the only one John had ever related to. He set himself on a quest in this new world, to make amends with the man, for leaving him as he had promised not to. But he couldn't help but make Kevin spiteful. Make him as he knew he felt.
And so he lived the rest of his existence as he wanted. Exploring the universe, past and future, with the friends he could never make, fighting the fights he was too afraid too, and helping those he never go the chance to. He would travel for thirteen more lives, each one different than the one before it. But he would still feel that loneliness, the one that followed him his whole life. He felt it until his last day in this world, before he finally passed on to another place. Another existence.
And what did John call himself? The Doctor. He named himself after the last man he heard as he lived. The man who tried so hard to save him, but failed. He would help him succeed, help him help others in this new life. He would make the Doctor proud.
He was a hero.
Or just a Doctor.