Okay. Well first off, hello! If you're reading this (i hope) you're about to read my first ever fic. :)

This is Amy's life without the doctor. The years she spent without him after he had left her when she was seven. I don't think many people realise just how long she spent without him. Twelve years is a long time when you actually think about it. How alone she must have felt. Poor little Amy. :'(

I'm not going to bore you much longer with my ramblings. Hope you enjoy this. And reviews would be extremely valued since this is my first ever fic. :)

x

Disclaimer

Amy: Alright kid. This is where it gets complicated.

Me: Why?

Amy: Because you own nothing.


"I would imagine a world.. A world beyond me. Beyond you. Beyond all of us. A world that I cannot even begin to comprehend. Just the thought... It frightens me to death. It's even got to the point where I am happiest when I'm asleep. Because there, nobody can tell me I'm wrong. Tell me he doesn't exist. Tell me it's all in my head. When I know, I know that it was real. The world inside that box.. If only he'd came back.. If only I h-"

"Amy." She looked up from her lap. Where she had been wringing a piece of paper with her hands.

"You're doing it again. You're-"

"Talking as if no one else is here. I know." She rolled here eyes as she said this, but it went unnoticed by the psychiatrist who was scribbling notes down on his clipboard.

"Look." She said as she successfully tossed the piece of mangled paper into a waste paper bin. "I haven't been here to see you in almost a year. Why call me back now?" She tucked a strand of her long red hair behind her ear, leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs and fixed him with a questioning stare.

"We wanted to check your... progress."

"And?"

"Well..." The psychiatrist gave a heavy sigh and began flipping through the notes on his clipboard. Then - much to Amy's annoyance - he began to write additional notes on previous pages. "It appeared you were making progress." He said with scratch of his head. "But now... Now you've began to slip, again." Amy rolled her eyes again. But this time it didn't go unnoticed. "Amy." He said patronisingly "You were a child. What's to say... that it wasn't all a dream? A very vivid dream. And all of this was the creation of a lonely gir-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! You don't know anything! You sit there with your clipboard and your stupid pen, thinking you're jack the lad! But did you ever think that maybe, it's true? If you would lighten up and stop being so bloody narrow minded! Consider the possibilities of "what if" Amy's chest was heaving. He statement was more to herself, everybody who ever doubted her. Not just this psychiatrist. She continued, closing her eyes, in a calmer tone. "Because then, maybe life wouldn't be so boring. So black and white. I know what happened when I was seven years old. I know that a man came, a man named the doctor. And he promised to fix the crack in my wall. And he promised...he promised.." She could feel small tears welling in the corner of her eye. It always hurt to think about it. To think about him.

"Five minutes. Give me five minutes. I'll be right back."

"People always say that."

"Am I people? Do I even look like people? Trust me. I'm the doctor."

The words that he had whispered to her all those years ago. The... Empty words. Her raggedy doctor. He had bent down to her level. Something, that she had never known a grown up to do. And he spoke to her as though she was the most important person in the whole world. Her. Amelia Jessica Pond. The little Scot stuck in England. He made her feel safe and wanted. A feeling that she had never felt before. She still remembers his face, and his ridiculous hair, the smell of his breath on her cold, rosy face as he spoke to her. And those eyes. Oh those eyes. Even then, at her young age she could see the wisdom and knowledge. And something else. She never realised it then but thinking back the only emotion she can link to that look was... loss. It was very subtle but it was definitely there. She could never forget. She would never let herself forget that wonderful, small adventure she had when she was seven. She had longed for excitement, just.. Something, all of her life. And there he was. A madman with a box. Full of fun and playfulness. But also protection, and a friend to the lonely girl. He promised to fix the crack in her wall. She remembered fondly how he had taken a glass and chucked the contents over his shoulder casually as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. How he had pointed that odd metal tool of his at the crack. The wonderful green light.

Wibbly wobbly timey wimey. Do you know what the crack is?

His face ecstatic. As he clicked the metal object back together. Amy never realised it at the time just how... Alien he was. She still isn't even sure what he was. ...Is

"I've gotta get back in there! The engines are phasing! It's gonna burn!"
"But it's just a box, how can a box have engines?"

"It's not a box! It's a time machine."
"What? A real one? You've got a real time machine?"

She was just in complete awe at him. Her saviour. Her dark, handsome hero..

"He isn't real, Amy." She came crashing back to reality. His words tore at her. Ripping parts of her away. In the back of her mind there was a voice. A small voice. A voice of reason, perhaps. Although she refused to believe that possibility, it was still there. Eating away at her very being. Because if he wasn't real, then what was? Her hero, the angel she had prayed for. Her doctor. She leapt from her seat at this point. The psychiatrist did the same, expecting her to lash out. She simply stared at him. If there was ever a look that could kill, this was it. Then suddenly she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"Amy I think you should-" she spun around, to find him close behind her.

"I've put up with this for long enough." She said, poking him threateningly in the chest. "I'm finished." She held his stare for a moment, then turned once again, reaching the door this time, she opened it violently and slammed it behind her as she went. Leaving him staring in shock at the door the fiery red head had just left.

She darted quickly from the clinic, eyes streaming, heart racing and temper raging. Her flowing red hair whipped around her. She didn't even try to calm it. As she made her way through the little village of Ledworth some people stopped to ask her if she was all right. She ignored them pushing past them and continued walking, she knew exactly where she was going. The place she always went to think when she was upset or she just needed... Away. -Her old house.

It looked just the same as it had the day she had left it for good when she was sixteen. She had just needed to get out. She was sick of it. Sick of the memories and the pain but most of all, sick of her aunt. Her aunt who was persistent on getting her tested by more psychiatrists, more doctors. When all she wanted was her doctor. She stood there, staring at the house that she had once lived in. She never referred to it as her home. Because it wasn't. To Amy a home was a place where you felt safe and wanted. She never felt these things when living with her aunt. As she stared at the old house, taking in all the familiar things, she saw the scene when she had left being replayed before her eyes.

A younger, but still just as fiery haired and apparently just as short tempered, sixteen year old Amy. Trailing a suitcase down the steps of the house, whacking it of each step with every one it threatening to burst open. Clothes and sheets caught in the lip, trailing the ground. Under her arm she had even more objects in a cardboard box which had been painted the bluest blue and had the words "Police Box" scrawled on it. It even had little windows drawn on with crayons. In two of the front windows were two people. A smiling man and a little red head girl in the other. But the most important thing, the thing she was clinging onto by her fingertips was a small rag doll. It was clothed in a light blue shirt, blue trousers and a blue tie pinned around it's shoulders. The doll was carefully made. Although small holes had been deliberately cut in the material of the dolls clothes and what looked like black soot had been smeared in random places. Floppy brown hair which was made from brown knitting wool rested on the dolls head which had been sewn on with great care. She stormed down the pathway a black bin liner in her other hand which contained her duvet and pillow. A middle aged woman wearing a skirt, and a tight top that barely covered her chest, threw open the screen door that Amy had just slammed and began screaming from the porch. However, making no attempt to follow her niece. She didn't share Amy's crimson hair but had bleach blonde, which had been carelessly died and was black at the roots.

"I swear to you now Amelia Pond! If you go past that gate you are never allowed back in this house again! Do you hear me!" She screamed, as Amy gave no sign that she was going to come back or that she was even listening. "This is your last warning! I mean it!" Amy stopped just as she got to the gate and turned to face her aunt who was red in the face and breathing heavily. She took a step back so that her heels were right up against the threshold of the gate. "You wouldn't dare!" She screamed. Amy smirked and jumped back so that she passed the gate.

"You should never, ever give me a dare. Because I will most definitely do it!" She yelled at her aunt, who was now coming down the steps and hurling some of Amy's belongings that she had dropped at the smirking teenager. She threw something different over the fence with every word.

"I NEVER. EVER. WANT TO SEE. YOU. DARKENING MY DOORWAY. EVER. AGAIN!" Amy began to pick up some of the things that her aunt had used as missiles and thrust them into the bin liner.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING TO LIVE? EH? YOU DIDN'T THINK ABOUT THAT, DID YOU? WHEN YOU CAME UP WITH THIS INGENIOUS PLAN!"

"For your information, I know exactly where I am going to live! Not that it's any of your bloody business, mind!" Shrieked an already furious Amy.

Her aunt began to laugh uncontrollably and pointed at Amy. Her tone no longer screaming, but menacing.

"But who would ever take you in? Crazy Amelia Pond. With her magical doctor as her only friend. Amy's smirk disappeared. She had hit a chord. "Is that where you're going? To find your doctor?" Amy just stared at her. This woman, the woman who was meant to be her family but who was tearing her apart. Amy glanced away. She had got it. In one go. Her aunt laughed again when she did not reply. And realised she had hit gold. "Oh Amy, really? I used to think you just wanted attention. But you really believe it, don't you?"

"Shut up. Just shut up.."

"You really believe he's going to come and take you away. Your precious doctor, who's going to save you from being alone. It doesn't work that way, sweetie." Angry tears were already running down Amy's face. Her aunt had won. Yet she continued. "He's not real." she said. "Grow up." she hissed. With that she turned back to the house. Leaving Amy standing at the gate, tears streaming down her face completely broken. All alone. The lost girl.