What's the Point?
The Doctor curled up in a ball crying his eyes out a heart broken look on his face. Rose, his Rose Tyler was gone. A fresh bought of tears trailed slowly down his face from old tired eyes that had seen too much death and pain and hope it was destroying him. He was alone again, all alone just him and his memories and thoughts enough to drive anyone mad. "What's the point?" He whispered brokenly hugging his legs to his chest "They all leave me in the end."
The Doctor slowly staggered over to his bed tears still streaming down his haggard face from jaded brown eyes grabbing a small penknife Jack had given him on his way. He slumped on his bed and lazily fingered the small blood stained knife sighing tiredly he murmured "What's the point?" He rolled up his shirt sleeves to reveal a giant network of thin spidery white scars covering his arms. Scars for everyone he had killed or lost.
The Doctor smiled sadly as he brought the blood splattered knife down on his arms over and over again revelling in the pain and the feeling of flowing over his hands and wrists staining them with his own crimson blood. He deserved this he had killed so many people. Everything was his fault and now Rose was gone. "What's the point?" He whispered adding a few more deep cuts to his ever growing collection everyone was gone, his friends his family everyone and it was his entire fault. Everyone was gone he fell back on his bed his arms seeping blood and so was he.