Chapter One:
"Should I go to the third floor library or finish my to scale replica of the Empire State Building? Well I am nearly done reading all the books in that library, but if I finish the Empire State Building, then I'll only have three more buildings till I will have successfully replicated all of Manhattan." I had started talking to myself six months into my own, personal solitary confinement. Four and a half years later, it was just getting worse. I wasn't quite sure how long it was, days wise. They all seemed blurred together. Now, as torturous as those days alone were, I did learn a whole lot about both myself and the past. I had learned that I hated silence. I had learned that I could read an entire library filled with books in a week. I learned that my mother was imprisoned for killing a man, though references did not specify who. I learned how to make things explode. How to make life. I learned how to cope.
"I think that the library is the best idea" God I was getting tired of my own voice. I headed for the library, counting each step on the staircase. The same thing I had done everyday. Always thirteen. It never changed. Thirteen stairs separating the floor. Eleven floors. Two hundred seventy three rooms per floor. I counted them. Everyday. Those numbers became my friends. The books in the four hundred seven libraries became my parents. I was slowly becoming insane. The third floor looked the same as ever. The floor had that same red carpeting from the first time I saw it, the doors were still mahogany.
"1...2...3...4...5" I found the library and was just reaching towards the handle when I sensed movement out of the corner of my eye. Movement was impossible. I was the only thing capable of moving in this place. I was the only one here. My heart raced. It hadn't done that since my old life. Since before I was put into my version of prison. Not daring to move, I looked out the corner of my eyes and saw more of the impossible. A door. I door that was not made of mahogany. A door I had never seem before. A door that was marked simply with the number eleven.
I stood there for a second. Perplexed. Not quite sure of what to do. Carefully I walked towards it. My ears were pounding along the same beat as my heart. I reached my hand toward the door, it shook. Almost there. I could almost feel the metal of the knob when yet another surprise came: The ring of a doorbell. I yelped like a dog in shock and without second guessing myself, flew down the stairs.
No one ever visited me. That was a fact. Even, my darling mother who had promised. Maybe I was delusional after being isolated for so long, or maybe because of the mysterious door, but without giving it any though I swung the front door open expecting to see mum. Instead, there, standing directly in front of me, was the next impossible thing of the day.
"Hello! I'm-"
"The Doctor!" My voice rang, finishing his sentence. Then, in all my glory, I fainted.