Here I am, back with a new FanFiction, attempting something entirely different. Now, I might not update TOO soon since I've got another FF to finish first, but I'm giving my best. See it as a little teaser and enjoy ;)
Disturbia
Chapter 1
Clara knew she had been in a bad place ever since Danny died, but never in her life had she expected to end up in a mental institution. To be fair, Danny's death hardly had anything to do with it, but no matter how hard she tried to tell that to anyone willing to listen to her, they seemed to believe her a little less each time. Clara couldn't really blame them. They were in a mental hospital after all.
Her only hope was the new doctor everyone had been talking about for days. Every patient who had already had a session with him seemed to have fallen in love with him instantly, but a pretty face and a nice smile was not what Clara was hoping for. She knew this doctor might be her last chance of getting out of this place, if only she could make him believe her, make him believe she wasn't insane. Clara prayed to all the Gods worshipped across the universe that this man had some sense and saw she was a perfectly ordinary girl with no real trouble but her current grief. Tomorrow she would finally meet him. Tomorrow.
Until then, Clara decided to preoccupy herself with staring out of the barred window. It was something she had done endlessly since her arrival, of which she still had no memory of. But there was something about staring into the open space that soothed her, made her feel like she wasn't kept here against her will. The last thing she remembered was the graveyard, the cybermen, Danny saving the world by sacrificing himself, the Doctor and Missy, but after that – nothing. Cara had no idea what went down that day on the graveyard, or what happened to the Doctor, of whom she had heard nothing since. It had been a week, they had told her. A whole week in this place could really drive anyone mad, but since Clara was fairly certain of her mental health, she hardly had anything to fear. Except not getting out.
Where was the Doctor? Did he even know where she was? Her phone had been taken from her, so there was no way he could call her or trace her, but something inside her told Clara that the Doctor would have found her by now had he been capable of it. What had happened to him? There was this dreadful possibility that Missy might have captured, or worse, killed him. If only she could remember.
A knock on the door made her jump up, but she calmed down as soon as she saw the face of the friendly male nurse whose name she had forgotten again. He was a young lad, probably barely 20, but he was always sweet and appeared to be very good at his job. She wished she could remember his name, but the medication they gave her made her kind of drowsy.
"Hi Clara, remember me?" he asked with a smile as if he knew the meds made her forgetful. Or maybe he believed her to be a lunatic. Clara couldn't really tell.
"Sure, just the name won't come to mind right now," she replied with a shrug.
"It's Freddie," he reminded her gently.
"Oh, right, of course. Freddie," Clara smacked her forehead as if it was now obvious to her, but if she was perfectly honest, she thought she had heard his name for the first time just now.
"I'm bringing you your medication. And I have to make sure you take it. No protesting tonight, okay?" he eyed her suspiciously.
Unfortunately Clara had learned very soon that the hospital was very strict about the patients' medication. There was no spitting it out or flushing it down the toilet and until she had earned the nurse's trust to let her take her meds alone and unsupervised, Clara had no other choice but to take them.
Freddie handed her a plastic cup containing the medication and a glass of water to swallow them down, which Clara did, no matter how drowsy and stupid they made her feel. Freddie sat down on the chair next to her bed and invited Clara to follow his example.
"I need to ask you a few questions before I go," he explained.
"Alright, go ahead." This was standard. Every morning and every evening he would ask how she was feeling, what she had been up to all day, if she had hallucinations, suicidal thoughts, and so on. Clara had already learned how he would like her to answer him.
"How are you feeling tonight?" Freddie started and Clara could see the compassion in his eyes. She was sure he was like this with every single patient in this institution. He loved his job. He was born for it.
"Good, actually. A bit tired from the meds, but otherwise fine."
"And what have you been doing all day?"
"I had breakfast, browsed through the library, lunch, playing cards with some elderly ladies. . ."
"Oh, you have to be careful around them. They do know how to make a poker face. I lost a lot of money to them the last two years," he interrupted her with a grin.
"Thanks for the warning. I'll keep my eyes open."
"Okay, I see you've adjusted quite nicely. Tomorrow you will have your first therapy session with our new Doctor. He's great and he really knows what he's doing. You can trust him with any of your thoughts, Clara, don't be shy. The sooner he understands you, the sooner you might be out of here. Did any of your memories come back, by any chance?"
"No," Clara shook her head, sadly, "I'm afraid not. I remember a graveyard, but after that, nothing."
"They found you on a graveyard, unconscious. You were talking about your boyfriend and alien creatures and some evil. . . Master?"
"Sounds about right," Clara said although she didn't recall being found by anyone. The first thing she remembered after that was waking up chained to a bed.
"They called your family and they had you brought here, to us. Your father and grandmother are very worried about you and they want you to get better very soon."
"When can I see them?" Clara asked immediately.
"When the Doctor says you can. You will need to speak with him first, to determine what might be the root of your problems and how we can best solve them."
"Okay, what's this doctor's name?" she asked, only now realizing that neither Freddie nor any other patient had actually mentioned a name.
"Oh, I honestly don't know. He is usually just referred to as the Doctor. Bit eccentric, that one, but great at his job as far as I can tell," he assured her and patted her hand before standing up from his chair.
Clara's heart appeared to have skipped a beat. The Doctor. Could it really be him? Did he come to save her after all?
"When you need anything, ring the bell," Freddie told her before closing the door behind him, but Clara couldn't really hear him.
A mysterious and eccentric new doctor who preferred to be called by his title only. That could only mean one thing, right? The Doctor had found her and he was going to save her. For the first time ever since she had come here, Clara let herself fall onto her bed with a smile on her face, knowing that tonight would be her last night in this hell hole.