Little Amelia dreams of extraordinary things. There are voices in her ears, stars behind her eyes, and impossible things in her head. She draws pictures and makes little dolls, telling the story of a man in a magic box who came to fix the crack in her wall.
Almost nobody believes her, of course. Aunt Sharon frets and worries about strangers and talks to her friends nervously, passing it off as a childhood phase; Ms. Porter, the psychiatrist (the second one, that is - she bit the first and is seriously contemplating doing the same to the second) talks to her softly, condescendingly, trying to convince her that everything is only her imagination; Rory follows her around and lets her dress him up, but he lets her because he is a nice boy and she knows that he thinks none of it is real, either. Only Mels believes her, but she gets in trouble so often that no one believes her either, and that's no help at all.
Amelia is tough, though. She lets Aunt Sharon worry, ignores Ms. Porter's advice, parades Rory around in costume, and talks to Mels about their future adventures. She takes the teasing and the worried glances in stride and then lets it all go. She knows that she's not crazy and that the things in her dreams are real - the only reassurance that she needs is the rebuilt shed in her backyard.
Only sometimes, it's not enough. Some nights, she glances nervously at her wall from the safety of her bed before holding her doll tight and saying a quick prayer to Santa, asking for the Raggedy Man to come back for her and chase away the strange and scary noises of the nighttime. And on one such night, she has the most amazing dream.
She dreams that she is standing on the second floor landing of her house, and that she has all the keys in the world on a ring, all of them large and ornate and heavy. The hallway is much longer than she remembers, and she feels like she is walking for miles as she unlocks each door. One, two, three, four, five…
…six.
There is a sixth door that she has never seen before. She runs toward it, immediately curious, and suddenly, the door is blue and says "Police" at the top. She runs faster and fumbles for the right key - a plain, ordinary key mixed in with all the rest. She unlocks the door, expecting and hoping for a library, a swimming pool, something amazing, but when she opens it, the room is empty. There is nothing there. Her eyes scour the small room desperately, but there is nothing in the small, blue room. She is overwhelmed with a terrible sadness and begins to cry, dropping the key ring. The clang echoes in the never-ending hallway. And then she feels a hand on her shoulder.
She looks up, and it's the Doctor, and he is just how she remembers him. With his floppy hair, torn-up clothes, and a smile that lights up the whole world, he takes her hand and pulls her into the room. She rubs at her nose with her other hand self-consciously, wiping away a few traces of snot. She hates it when adults see her acting like the little girl that she is - they start cooing and fawning over her and talking to her like she's a baby, and she hates being treated like that.
The Doctor doesn't do that. He gets down on his knees and takes her face in his hands, holding her gently. He looks her in the eyes so seriously, and she feels like a grown up and like a child at the same time. He needs to tell her something, and she knows that whatever it is, it is extremely important. He says only one thing to her, "This is real," and she knows that when he says "this," what he really means is "everything." Everything is real: the voices in her ears, the stars behind her eyes, the impossible things in her head. Everything is real. Then he smiles his big, goofy smile, and kisses her on the forehead.
In her sleep, Amelia hugs her doll to her chest, smiling. When she wakes up, she will have a new story to tell, and another amazing adventure to sustain her faith in her Raggedy Doctor.