Chapter one, They're just stories.

Saphire's point of view.

I wished to wake up to a gentle sunlight streaming in through the curtains, with the musical tweets of birds to accompany it. Instead, when I woke my ears were filled with the beeps of cars, shouts of people, and the constant roadworks from the busy streets of London. When I bothered to open my eyes, I could see the plain white light of, what I could already tell to be, a cloudy day.

I sat up and wiped the sleep from my eyes, before looking around my terribly messy bedroom. My room wasn't small, but not huge either, just the right size. The walls were a light peach colour, since I hadn't had the time to decorate yet. The coveing and skirting boards of the room were both the same colour white, matching the window sill. My carpet was a gentle beige, and covered the entirety of the floor. I had a two door white wardrobe, with one side of shelving, in the corner of the room. The handles were golden, and intrequte designs were carved into the wood. I had a desk of the same colour opposite the wardrobe, with all of my note pads and pencils, and a light blue desk chair was tucked underneath. My bed was in the corner next to the wardrobe. It was a double bed, with an oak wood frame. The sheets were all a sky blue that matched the desk chair, and it had little white clouds all over it. The whole weeks clothes were all over the floor, along with many pencils and crumpled pieces of paper.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and threw the quilt off of myself, before getting up. I left my room and went I to the bathroom, yawning and stretching. It was quite easy to tell that I wasn't a morning person.

My bathroom was quite small, but I didn't mind because it was efficient. The walls were tiled with a deep blue and white, all in the same diagonal pattern. The floor was made up with black slate tiles, with small fragments of silver glitter scattered around in each one. I had a grey cynical shower in the corner furthest to the door, with glass sliding doors instead a shower curtain. The toilet was a grey that matched the shower, and t also had a blue fluffy lid-cover. Opposite the toilet stood a black-porcelain cabinet, with a mirror over the top, and a sink worked into the top as well.

I stumbled into the room and immediately went to the shower, quickly stripping off my red t-shirt and shorts, before stepping into the water. I sighed as the warm droplets of water cascaded down my body, relaxing my stiff muscles.

After ten minutes, I stepped out of the shower with my hair smelling like strawberries and my body smelling like marshmallows. I wrapped a pink towel around my dripping-wet hair, and an even bigger towel of the same colour around my body. I quickly rushed over to the cabinet and brushed my teeth, leaving my mouth minty fresh after two minutes, more or less.

Around twenty minutes later, I stepped out of my room wearing a red knee-leangth dress, with black ankle boots, a black leather jacket, and black transparent tights. My hair was down, with gentle curls throughout it, and I had my lips painted with a crimson red.

I strolled into the kitchen to make myself some tea before continuing with the story I was writing. My kitchen was small, but I loved it. The walls were painted a lime-green, with the coveing and skirting boards being the same white that they were throughout the rest of the flat. My white oven and fridge were both in the corner of the room, with white and grey marble counters going around the other half. Above the counters held cupboards containing the rest of my food, and my plates, bowels, and cutlery. In the other corner of the room sat a small white table, with two chairs for two places.

I sat at the table while I waited for the kettle to boil, drumming my fingers against the wood I fill the silence. The only thing I didn't like about living along was the constant silence. I had only lived there for six months, since I moved in on my eighteenth birthday. Growing up, I lived with my nan, since I had no parents. I never knew what happened to them, not even my man did, just that I had none. It was alright living with her, she brought me up and taught me things that nobody else could, but it never felt enough. I felt like I could do more with my life, so as soon as I turned eighteen, I used most of my college fund to rent a flat in London. Since it was late in the school year when I was finally settled in my flat, I signed up for online college courses. I had completed my third exam the night before, so it had been going well.

The click from the kettle that meant it had finished boiling drew me from my thoughts. I poured the scolding water into the waiting pink mug, already containing the teabag and milk. As I sat and sipped my tea, once it had cooled down that is, my mind pondered over the story I was writing. I had a thing for science-fiction at the moment, so most of my writing was that genre. The story that I still hadn't completed was about these robots. They were huge metal shells that needed humans to create them. Had called it being 'upgraded'. I was stuck on names, but he one that ran through my mind the most was 'Cybermen'.

Once I was finished with my tea, I decided that I wanted to go out for a bite to eat, and to, hopefully, finish my story. I quickly dashed to my bedroom, to grab my notebook and pens, and then left after collecting my door keys from the counter.

The day was quite windy, so I had to practically hug my notebook to stop any pages from flying away. My chocolate brown hair was constantly blowing in my face, though, luckily my dress was being kept down by my jacket. My eyes were locked on the pavement as I walked, my mind still trying to run through possible endings for my story. The wind gave a bigger gust, causing my hair to blow in my face. I lifted my spare hand to move my hair, but because I was partially blinded, I didn't see the pair of feet coming towards me.

I walked into somebody, hard, causing us both to topple over. I looked up to see a guy, maybe late twenties, wearing a ridiculous tweed jacket and bow tie. His hair was brown like mine, his eyes were green, and he had the biggest chin I've ever seen. Luckily, when I fell, I kept a hold on my notepad.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" I quickly apologised, standing up after the strange man, the both of us brushing our clothes off.

"No, no, it's my fault. I'm the one who should be apologising." He smiled kindly at me, before holding his hand out to shake.

"I'm the Doctor." He said once I took his hand, shaking it firmly.

"I'm Saphire." I smiled shyly, dropping his hand and using it to hug my book tightly again. He grinned hugely, causing my smile to grow, too.

"What's that?" He asked, gesturing to my notebook.

"Oh, nothing really, just a story I've been writing." I said, looking down at my book, then back at him. I didn't really want to talk about it because I didn't think it was much good, myself. He, seeing that I didn't really want to say more about the subject, didn't persue on the subject.

"Well, it was nice meeting you anyways." The doctor said, smiling at me.

"Yeah you too." I replied, returning the smile.

"I'll...I'll see you later then." The doctor said, turning to leave.

"Alright, bye." I said, before turning around and conniniing my way to the cafe.

Once I made it there, I ordered a warm sausage roll as well as another tea, then found my favourite table by the window. I opened my notepad again and continued with my story. The words flowed from my hand, and completing the story was as easy as breathing. Within twenty minutes, two pastries and three teas, I had finished the story.

A loud sound of glass shattering outside drew my focus to the window. Hundreds of people ran around, screaming and crying. My heart started racing as I searched for the cause of such mass distress. Smoke wound through the crowd and the noise of what seemed to be lazers shot through the noise.

I grabbed my notepad and ran out of the cafe, looking around. It was even worse outside. The air smelled of smoke and made me start coughing as soon as I got outside. I started running down the street, trying to get home quickly before whatever was making this happen found me.

I hauled to a stop as soon as I saw it.

"Oh my god." I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. The shiny diver metal gleaned as the stone cold face stared back at me. They stepped forward and the metal stomped on the ground, sending shivers down my spine.

"You will be upgraded." The robotic voice that held no emotion spoke to me, continuing to step forward.

I shuffled backwards until my back hit the wall of whatever shot was behind me. It stepped closer and closer until it reached me. It's arm clasped around my wrist in a painful grip, causing me to gasp in pain.

"But...but they're just stories..."

So, my first chapter of my first doctor who fanfiction. Did you like it, was it good? I might add doctors point of view in at some point, but I still don't know. Tell me if I did the doctor alright, because I wasn't sure how to write him correctly. The next chapter will be up soon, since I'm juggling this with my other story 'little Bella' I don't know when. Alright, thanks for reading.

-Bambie.