The sun was just setting as I peeked out of the abandoned warehouse I was in. I glanced both ways and checked to make sure my gun was on me before I ventured out. This had been my routine for a year. A year since an alien race called the mruksas came to my American town, claiming to be interested in earth culture, but instead had a plan to take over the town. a year since they succeeded, placing everyone under their control, except for me. The one person in that town who'd been the least bit suspicious of their intentions. Honestly, what group of aliens just comes to a town claiming to want to know more about earth culture? Had no one ever seen a sci-fi horror film? You never trust the aliens! Maybe that's why I'd never been affected. Because I was smart enough to not fall for their story. To not listen to their stories on the news or radio. And that's how they got everyone. Subliminal messages. In only a few days, it'd gone from a thriving, creative town, to a post-apocalyptic type world where everyone had lost the spark to be themselves and only follow the aliens. But not me. I refused to be like that.
That's what led me to this life. I couldn't let myself get caught. So, every night, when the curfew was imposed, I snuck out, trying to find whatever food I could get and sneaking into places to take showers. I'd also been trying to research anything I could about who these aliens were and how to stop them. I honestly didn't know why; maybe I was half hoping to stop the aliens myself. But, I couldn't find anything. If I were emotional, I would have cried, but I'd cried out all of my tears. I needed to be tough if I was going to face this. In this past year, I hadn't been able to find anyone else who hadn't been affected. I'd snuck out a few times during the day to see if anyone I knew was fine, but they weren't. They were almost like zombies, forced out of their own free will. All my friends and family that I hadn't had contact with. I'd been running for so long, forced to protect myself just in case they sent someone after me. Part of me thought of giving up. Just turning myself in and just stop resisting and become part of the mindless crowd. But the other part was telling me to be strong. It was telling me to continue to fight. That eventually something would change and that it would go back to the life I had before. I was doubtful, but I was about to find out that listening to that part would lead me to a man who had the answer to stopping these creatures.
I was running , My long hair (I normally kept it short, but due to the circumstances, I hadn't exactly had a chance to get it cut.) flowing behind me. I was being chased by someone. Clearly, the aliens had caught on to fact that I wasn't exactly following their orders and had sent someone after me. Luckily for me, all that running had turned me into a faster runner, so I was able to get away. I turned a corner to hide from the person. Unfortunately for me, there was something in my way as I turned. My foot connected with whatever was there, making my leg give out and my ankle move in a way I didn't think possible. I promptly fell, hissing in pain as I felt my ankle crack. I clenched my teeth as I scooted to the closest place I could sit, which happened to be a big blue box. Normally, I would have been curious about the box, but I wasn't thinking straight. I sat down with a small sigh of relief in front of it and ruffled through my backpack for my first aid kit. Locating a wrap, I attempted to wrap my ankle, but it wasn't working. That's when it happened. I threw the wrap aside in trusted, curled up into a ball and started crying. I knew that it wasn't just because of my ankle. I was crying for my town. I was crying for my friends and family. I just wanted my normal life back. I didn't hear the door to the box that I was sitting in front of open and someone walk out.
"I can't do this anymore." I cried out softly, as I lifted up my head.
"Well, not with that attitude." A cheerful British voice said next to me.
Startled, I turned my head to see a man sitting next to me. He was wearing a brown pinstriped suit under a brown trench coat and beige converse sneakers. He had spiky brown hair and brown eyes that for some reason seemed ancient. But, being alone for so long, had made me weary of everything, and a little less trustworthy. This man could have been one of the aliens for all I knew. I stopped crying and slowly withdrew my gun from my back pocket, and pointed it at him.
"Look." I said with a shaky voice. "If you're gonna take me in, just know I'm not going to come willingly."
He raised his eyebrow. "Well, just to let you know, I really don't like guns." He said, taking the gun from my hand and throwing it aside . "And I'm not here to take you in. I'm here to help."
"Why should I even trust you?" I asked, suspiciously. "Who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor."