The thoughts of a new companion from the 1800s because why not. This has been sitting around for a while and I thought I'd post it. Enjoy!
It is beautiful. Empty, vast, endless, and yet so full, teeming with life and overflowing with discoveries just waiting to be made. The crisp, unpolluted air of the Doctor's blue box surrounds me and makes me feel alive and energetic, ready to run and sing and fly. Galaxies stretch out before me. The entire universe, at my fingertips. All of Time and Space to enjoy forever.
And all of it made possible by the mad Doctor and his impossible blue box. Smaller on the outside, bigger on the inside. Containing a Doctor when it announces police. And filled with wonders of science. So much space, so many rooms...there could be a city's worth of space inside the police box.
It feels so wonderful, hanging out of the doors with my fingertips as my only anchor. Standing on my tiptoes, leaning forward as far as I can, and stretching my neck out even farther. What would happen if I let go? Would the Doctor's machine reel me back in, or would I float away, never to be seen or heard from again?
The Doctor says I can have any room I like to stay in, so long as it isn't one of the rooms of his previous companions. Or his room. Or a room not made to be a bedroom. I haven't even begun to try and find myself a place to stay. I suppose I will need one if I am to stay with him in his impossibly brilliant box, joining him on his impossibly brilliant adventures.
How long will I stay here, with him? What if he grows tired of me? What if I grow tired of him? I want to stay here forever, living out my life with thrills and surprises at every twist and turn. But...my family will miss me. I can visit, of course, the Doctor said so. But I'll never be able to stay with them and lead a life of dull normalcy after being with the Doctor.
The Doctor. Oh, the Doctor. An impossible man with two hearts. A man who isn't a man, he's an alien. A timelord. The last timelord. He'll never get older. He can't die. And he saved the world. Multiple times, on multiple worlds, he said. A man with eleven different faces and personalities and likes and dislikes. A man who wears clothing no one would wear if they were to stay with the fashions of the current age. Why, he walks around with no waistcoat, a bow tie rather than a cravat, and his jacket is patched at the elbows! If my brother left the house in that state of undress, Mother would have a fit!
And anyway, why did the Doctor choose me? I'm rather plain looking, with just dull brown hair and brown eyes, and an average face. I'm not exciting or intelligent. My sister would be a much better choice, with her sparkling hazel eyes and copper curls. She's funny and outgoing. And she's so smart, she could always outthink Mother when we were children and she was always the one who made sure we never got in trouble in our cookie-stealing escapades.
Maybe the Doctor doesn't need someone as wonderfully amazing as my sister. Perhaps he just wants an ordinary person. Someone who can keep him tied to normality. Someone he can easily outshine and impress. Someone to show off too. Someone who won't get in the way of his genius with their own. Maybe that's why the Doctor chose me. Maybe he needs someone completely ordinary after so many extraordinary companions. Perhaps the Doctor needs a break.
Perhaps my thoughts need a break. I've always done an awful lot of thinking. Mother told me that children should be seen and not heard, and that I was excellent at it. But what if I should speak my mind more? The Doctor seems different. He seems to expect women to show everything and say everything.
Maybe he's never had a companion from a time period he isn't used to having companions from... There's a sort of screen in the box. It showed me all of the Doctor's previous companions. They looked like they followed a timeline. I come from a drastically different time than his last companion. Perhaps the Doctor needs a change. Some exciting topsy-turviness in his long, long life.
But am I really the person to provide topsy-turviness? If anything, the Doctor would forget me with my silence and tranquility. He may be able to get me to open up, though. I suppose the Doctor could be good for me. I could learn to be more of a presence. My friends always tell me I should try and stand out somehow.
My friends. I will miss them. All the time I spend in this box is time they spend worrying about my absence. Even if the Doctor claims he can deliver me home five minutes after we left. With the expanse of stars in front of me, I am tempted to believe him.
The stars really are amazing when seen up close. No street lamps and London smog to block them out here, because they're all around me, not just in the sky. I am in the sky. Hanging out of the door like this, maybe I can be seen by some creature on some planet, looking up right now.
Yes, the full emptiness. Beautiful and wonderful and terrifying and insane all at once. I will definitely stay here with the Doctor, in his blue box of wonders.
So yeah, tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is appreciated, flames are not, thanks!
