My Name is Victoria Vervia ("ver"-v-a). I am a regular American Teenager. Well, I wouldn't say regular perssay… let's just say I'm not cut from the same dough as the rest of the girls. Or the same cutter. Or even have the same composition as everyone else. Okay, fine. I'm not normal. I'm average height and weight, sure… but that's about it. I have non descript eyes and pasty as a ghost. My hair is like straw with black in random places too. I have thick-rimmed glasses and my favorite cloths are bondage pants. I usually ware jeans though….

Okay, now that I've bored you all to tears, I might as well start up my story. It was a normal day in my world when I met the Doctor. It was in the middle of the summer, school was just let out and I was "enjoying" my last year on the swim team. By "enjoying" I really mean being tortured by the couch because she was good friends with one of my friends and only had eyes for her, if you know my meaning. Every meet she would put her favorite in relays I would do better in because I was faster this year. All the other years she was better but…. Oi… anyway, I should stick to the story. I'm sure none of you really care about how I felt during the summer anyway.

Back to where I was. I was on my way to practice when I first met the Doctor. I was listening to Mindless Self Indulgence ("Wack!") and pedaling my bike angrily while cursing the cars on the road I just left. There stood a man with brown hair and a brown trench coat in the middle of the road. he looked confused. Looking around at the sky and sniffing the air like something foul was rotting, burping and releasing noxious fumes from it's backside all at once.

"Sir!" I called to the strange man

He looked at me as though I was some type of odd creature.

"Hey, Mister! You okay?" I said. He was staring curiously at his reflection in my enormous, bugg-eyed sunglasses. (hey, they fit over my regular glasses. Bite me!)

"Fine, fine," he said in a British, semi-cockney accent. "Just tell me, where and when am I?"

"Uhm, you're in a suburb of Pittsburgh and it's near the fourth of July - "

"I need the year," he said impatiently.

"2008," I said wishing I hadn't approached this man.

He muttered to himself, "fourth of July, fourth of July… why is that important…" then he said louder, "This is America?!"

"Sir, Mayview is right down the road, if you escaped from the mental hospital –" at this point I thought he was crazy. How could you possibly not know what continent you're on?

"No," he said impatiently again. He muttered to himself again, "why am I here?! Miss, why is there air so stale?"

I looked at him quizzically. What type of lunatic is this that he would ask such bizarre questions? "Sir, it's not. Do you have asthma?"

At this point I was frightened of the man. Of all the things school has taught people, they never teach you how to deal with crazy people. Maybe that rule about never talking to strangers was a better rule than I really took in store?

I mounted my bike and started pedaling off.

"What's your name?" he asked me suddenly. He looked as though an idea struck him.

I stopped my bike and looked at him. "Why should I tell you my name if you just told me you're crazy?" and started again.

That was the first time I ever met the Doctor.