-Saphire's point of view-
I wished to wake up to a gentle sunlight streaming in through the curtains, with the musical tweets of birds to accompany it. Instead, when I woke, my ears were overwhelmed by the beeps of cars, shouts of people, and the constant roadwork noise from the busy streets of London. When I finally bothered to open my eyes, I could see the plain white light of what I could already identify as a cloudy day.
I sat up and wiped the sleep from my eyes before looking around my terribly messy bedroom. My room wasn't small, but not huge either. Just the right size. The walls were a light peach colour, since I hadn't had the time to decorate yet. The coving and skirting boards of the room were both the same colour white, matching the window sill. My carpet was a gentle shade of beige and covered the entirety of the floor. I had a two-door white wardrobe with one side of shelving in the corner of the room. The handles were golden, and intricate designs were carved into the wood. I had a desk of the same colour opposite the wardrobe, with all of my note pads and pencils, and a light blue desk chair tucked underneath. My bed was in the corner next to the wardrobe. It was a double bed, with an oak wood frame. The sheets were all a sky blue that matched the desk chair, which had little white clouds all over it. The whole weeks clothes were all over the floor, along with many pencils and crumpled pieces of paper.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and threw the quilt off of myself before getting to my feet. I left my room with great difficulty, as the clutter on the floor made several attempts to trip me, but I made it to the bathroom, yawning and stretching all the way. It was quite easy to tell that I wasn't a morning person.
My bathroom was quite small, but I didn't mind because it was efficient. The walls were tiled with a deep blue and white, all in the same diagonal pattern. The floor was made up of black slate tiles, with small sprinklings of silver glitter scattered around in each one. I had a grey cynical shower in the corner furthest from the door, with glass sliding doors instead of a shower curtain. The toilet was a grey that matched the shower and it had a blue fluffy lid-cover. Opposite the toilet stood a black-porcelain cabinet with a mirror over the top and a sink worked into the top as well.
I stumbled into the room and immediately went to the shower, quickly stripping off my red t-shirt and shorts before stepping into the water. I sighed as the warm droplets of water cascaded down my body, relaxing my stiff muscles.
After ten minutes, I stepped out of the shower with my hair smelling like strawberries and my body smelling like marshmallows, thanks to my shampoo and body wash. I wrapped a pink towel around my dripping-wet hair, and an even bigger towel of the same colour around my body. I then quickly brushed my teeth, leaving my mouth minty fresh after two minutes, more or less.
Around twenty minutes later, I stepped out of my room wearing a red knee-length dress with black ankle boots, a black leather jacket, and transparent tights of the same colour. My brown hair was down with gentle curls throughout it and my lips were painted a crimson red.
I strolled into the kitchen to make myself some tea, preparing to continue writing a story I wanted to finish. My kitchen was small, but I loved it. The walls were painted a lime-green, with the coving and skirting boards being the same white, as they were throughout the rest of the flat. My white oven and fridge were both in the corner of the room with white and grey marbled counters going around the other half. Above the counters were cupboards containing the rest of my food as well as my plates, bowls and cutlery. In the other corner of the room sat a small white table and the two chairs which went with it.
I sat at that table while I waited for the water in the kettle to boil, drumming my fingers against the wood to fill the silence. The only thing I didn't like about living alone was the quietness which held my thoughts captive in my mind. A quiet environment is usually good for writing, but somehow it failed to provide me with a source of inspiration.
The noises from outside still cut through the air, but they didn't help and I had learned to tune them out. I was growing bored of my own company, but I had no one else, well, aside from my nan, who didn't live with me anyway.
I had only lived there for six months, since I moved in on my eighteenth birthday. Growing up, I lived with my nan, since I had no parents. I never knew what happened to them, not even my nan did. All we knew was that I had none. It was alright living with her since she brought me up and taught me things that nobody else could, but it never felt like enough. I felt like I could do more with my life, so as soon as I turned eighteen, I used most of my college fund to rent a flat in London. Since it was late in the school year when I was finally settled in my flat, I signed up for online college courses. I had completed my third exam last night, so it had been going well.
The click from the kettle which meant it had finished boiling the water drew me from my thoughts. I poured the scalding liquid into the waiting pink mug that already contained the teabag and milk. As I sat and sipped my tea, once it had cooled down, that is, my mind pondered over the story I was writing.
I had a thing for science-fiction, so most of my writing was in that genre. The story that I hadn't yet completed was about robots. They were huge metal shells that needed humans to create them. They called it being 'upgraded'. I was stuck on what to name them, but the one word that ran through my mind most often was 'Cybermen'.
Once I was finished with my tea, I decided that I wanted to go out for a bite to eat and to, hopefully, finish my story. I dashed to my bedroom, grabbed my notebook and pens, and left after collecting my door keys from the counter.
The day was quite windy, so I had to hug my notebook to stop any of the loose pages from flying away. My chocolate brown hair was whipping all around, but luckily my dress was being held down by my jacket. My eyes were locked on the pavement as I walked, my mind still running through possible endings for my story. The wind gave a huge gust, causing my hair to blow directly into my face, effectively blocking my view. I continued walking as I raised my spare hand to move my hair, and because I was partially blinded, I didn't see the pair of feet coming towards me.
I walked into somebody, hard, causing us both to topple over. Luckily, when I fell, I kept a hold on my notepad. I looked up to see a guy, maybe in his late twenties, wearing a ridiculous tweed jacket and bow tie. His hair was brown like mine, his eyes were green, and he had the biggest chin I'd ever seen.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I quickly apologised, standing up after the strange man, the both of us brushing our clothes off.
"No, no, it's my fault. I'm the one who should be apologising." He smiled kindly at me, holding his hand out.
"I'm the Doctor." He said once I took his hand, shaking it firmly.
"I'm Saphire." I smiled shyly, dropping his hand and hugging my notebook tightly with both arms again. He grinned hugely, causing my curious smile to grow too.
"What's that?" He asked, gesturing to my notebook.
"Oh, nothing really, just a story I've been writing." I said, looking down at my book, then back at him. I didn't really want to talk about it because I didn't think it was much good, myself. He, seeing that I didn't really want to say more about the subject, didn't pursue it.
"Well, it was nice meeting you." The Doctor said, smiling at me.
"Yeah, you too." I replied, returning the smile.
"I'll...I'll see you later then." The Doctor said, turning to leave.
"Alright, bye." I said, shaking my head in amusement. I turned around and continued my way to the café.
Once I made it there, I ordered a warm sausage roll as well as another tea, and then found my favourite table by the window. I opened my notepad again and continued with my story. At last, the words flowed from my mind to the pen, making the completion of the story as easy as breathing. Almost twenty minutes, two pastries and three teas later, I had finished the story.
The loud sound of glass shattering outside drew my focus to the window. Hundreds of people were running around, and many began screaming and crying. My heart was racing as I searched for the cause of such sudden, mass distress. Smoke wound through the crowd and the blue light of what seemed to be lasers zipped through the chaos.
I grabbed my notepad and ran out of the café, looking around. The panic was even worse outside. The smoky air made me start coughing, and I knew I had to leave. I started running down the street, trying to get away safely before whatever was making this happen caught me.
It was a fire, I reasoned. Or an elaborate prank. Had to be. Something in my mind was trying to convince me otherwise, though. I could feel it, the terrible wrongness of the situation just screaming at me. I slowed to a jog and concentrated. What was it?
Everything was so unbalanced. I could hear shrieking, sirens, voices, and an odd clanging noise. The air was cold, smoky, breezy, damp, and smelled slightly of... blood? No, I realized. Metal.
I skidded to a stop as soon as I saw them.
"Oh my god." I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. The shiny silver metal of the human-like robots gleamed as the stone cold faces stared back at me. The creatures stepped forward and the metallic ring from their marching feet on the ground sent shivers down my spine.
"You will be upgraded", the robot said in an emotionless voice as it stomped in my direction.
I shuffled backwards until my back hit the brick wall behind me. I was petrified with fear, and trapped as well, the robot stepping in closer and closer until it reached me. Its powerful hand clasped around my wrist in a painful grip, causing me to gasp in pain.
"But...but they're just stories...", I whimpered.
