Dear Diary,

I dreamt about him last night. Not that I was expecting my sleeping mind not to be graced by his presence. He looked the same as he did the past few nights; blonde, about ten years older then me (you know I refuse to think about how old I am!), his clothes a little odd as they always are, white or cream, like those men always wore at cricket matches in the olden days. What was still really weird to me was the thing he had in his lapel. You'd expect men to wear flowers there not sticks of celery!. His face is different as always, but his eyes...they're still the same, full of starlight, older then his face seems to be. He wasn't alone this time, three other people with him, young looking like him. I know it was just a dream like it always is, but I couldn't help but feel envious, an emotion I know all too well. Don't know how I'm gonna get through today, my mind still stuck on the star-filled man from my dreams. I just hope it goes quick!!.

Guess that's all for today.

Same time tomorrow.E.M.

"Ughhh, okay, I'm up," I grumbled, the loud blare of my alarm clock making me jump a little feeling instantly thankful that I'd finished writing, my free hand reaching over, killing the alarm, the sound still making me think of the bell at my high school telling me when we had to get back to class. Guess I'd forgotten to cancel my alarm having woken up about twenty minutes early, the dream having made it impossible to try and catch another few minutes before having to force myself out of bed for the day.

My entire life or at least it had felt like that, I'd been dreaming about this man, this one man whose face was always changing. Somehow I know it's the same man even though he looks different. It's hard not to recognise those eyes, eyes that looked ancient, eyes that were filled with starlight. Sometimes he was alone, stood in this weird, circular room, some kind of...machinery in front of him, him moving around it fast, some sort of tunnel moving up and down. Sometimes he would be with others, people, young like him and sometimes younger. And sometimes I would see others, clearly not human, clearly alien if such a thing actually exists which I doubt.

I would always remember my dreams when I woke up hence why I keep a diary, something I've been doing for the past two years. It just felt like the most natural thing to do even though I'm obviously never gonna show it to others.

I close my diary putting it down on my bedside table letting out a heavy and slightly weary sigh, forcing myself to get out of bed taking the opportunity to have a good long stretch, my arms raising above my head then dropping my hands to my hair, running my fingers through my dark brown locks which now rest at just above my lower back. I know I should cut it, but I can't bring myself to do it, my hair having always been my favourite feature.

I pull off my night gown, slipping into my dressing gown on then making my way out of my bedroom making my way into the bathroom, shutting the door after me then heading towards the shower, opening the door then turning on the dials, letting the water heat up.

My hand moves to my necklace, my fingers brushing over the shell-shaped stone hanging from the silver chain. It was something I'd had my whole life, something I was left by my aunt after she'd sadly left this world. For some reason, I refused to take it off, my aunt having been my only family, my parents nowhere to be seen.

I check the temperature of the water finding it's just right, jumping in, moving underneath the shower head, closing my eyes. Suddenly, they snap open, one hand moving to my head, hearing one word in my mind screaming at me, making me gasp, my free hand moving to the shower wall.

"Doctor."