The Truth

We walk into Rose Tyler's house. She sits there holding a mug of tea in her hands, and looking ahead as if no one is there. I'm surprised she has even agreed to have this interview, as she is a very private person.

"Hello, Rose Tyler, thank you for allowing us into your home for this interview," I shake her hand and sit down on an overstuffed armchair that is directly in front of her. My camera crew starts setting up. She offers us tea, which we decline. Even though she is young, she looks so tired, so unhappy.

I feel a bit nervous, worrying if I ask her something too personal that she might break down.

Right after she finished her cup of tea, we dived straight into the interview.

"Hello, I'm John Smith reporting to you live from Rose Tyler's home. She is an acclaimed author of the book series, Doctor Who. We came here today to learn the true meaning behind this phenomenon." My camera crew switches around with different cameras, getting into different angles, while I start asking some questions. I nervously look down at my notepad, looking for the best questions.

"What was your inspiration for the Doctor? And Bad Wolf?" Looking at me sadly, she begins to answer the question.

"Well, I guess you could say that this story is a bit sad… I based the Doctor on my late-husband, whose name I will not reveal. He was so adventurous, brave, and generous. Sadly those traits led him to his death, as he was a General in our army. Was quite young too may I add, even though he was five years older than me. Would've been forty if he was still alive today," She chuckled sadly and continued.

"I began writing these stories while he was still alive. Not too long ago, he was going to go abroad; I think it was one of the poorer villages in Russia. Sacrificed himself for a family, god bless him. He left me, even though I pleaded with him to let me come with him, as I had a bad feeling something was going to happen…" She pauses and then wipes some tears from her eyes. Pouring another glass of tea, she sips it slowly and starts again. "I based Bad Wolf on myself, but the previous story says it all."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I hand her a tissue and she dabs her face. "He used to say that."

Before I could continue asking her more questions, she stopped us.

"I've tried, I've really tried, but I don't think I can finish this interview. These inner wounds of mine are so fresh, may we continue another time?"

"Of course, m'am. Thanks for giving us what you have." I shook her hand, and my camera crew packed up.

What she didn't know was that I was her husband. And that she had suffered a bad case of amnesia, because by the Russian mobster I had to guard. I wasn't a general. I was a con, doing anything I could to get us that extra cash.

Rose just had to come along and hurt herself.

That happened six months ago. I had to make a whole cover story, and change our identities. Buying two apartment rooms and creating a whole backstory, we finally settled down. But not the way I planned it to be.

She knew me as her good neighbor friend, John Smith. Who happened to be a reporter.

Let me tell you how hard that was to get the job without getting recognized! Had to lie about my name and everything!

Just as we were walking out, Rose called my name.

"Could I speak with you for a moment," She led me upstairs to her bedroom. She wrote about all our con adventures, but with an intergalactic twist. Became filthy rich, and I was so very proud of her. Did it the way she thought was right, the way that was legal.

"Yes, Mrs. Tyler,"

"It's Rose to you," Coming closer to me, she grabbed me by the lapels, and whispered something in my ear.

"I remember. Everything."