Hey! Another submission in! Just to say I couldn't remember the exact details from the episode this is based on, so if there are major mistakes just let me know and I shall edit. You know the drill: Read and Review!
I can remember the rush of everyone trying to get out of the shopping centre. The mannequins were alive. That is not supposed to happen. That is not natural. They are made of plastic. It was either a publicity stunt gone very wrong or some one's sick idea of fun.
I now know that it was neither. It was something to do with the Doctor.
I should tell you, dear probably-anti-social-your-mother-warned-me-about-you reader, about myself. We on this website all know about the Doctor- or bits about his that over the years we have fit together and attempted to understand. But you know nothing about the source of this information. I am Jeff or Jeffery according to my grandfather or Jeff-Weff by my mother. But everyone else calls me Jeff: my friends, my teachers, strangers (who I introduce myself to as Jeff) and my dad.
This is a story of how my dad died.
It was winter and cold enough for a coat. But not cold enough for a scarf or hat. Dad and I were attempting to get dearest mother's presents for Christmas- it was easier to get them early, so we could change our minds and have time to get something else. She is impossible to shop for. And so we were wondering around the shops like stereotypical men- looking lost and trying to be as quick as possible in our hunt to get back home in time for supper.
The screams rolled down the corridor of shops and then hit us smack in the face. A woman came running down with a face that was full of pure terror. My dad however didn't think anything was wrong and turned to me, jokingly said
"Must be a sale on the Prada"
Then we saw what she was running from.
The mannequins were walking and had their arms outstretched, like an oversized ugly Barbie looking for a hug. Dad knew something was wrong and began to pull me towards the exit, as was everyone else. The crowds poured out of the shopping centre and onto the high street- which was also full of the walking mannequins. Dad began to pull me along and swerved through the crowds. I lost him in the crowds and like any eleven year old I burst into tears.
I was lost in a crowd whilst mannequins were looking for hugs. The mannequins then began to start shooting.
I let the tears stream down as I ran and screamed for Dad. I then ran straight into him. The Doctor. He seemed in a rush, carrying a mannequin arm, but he stopped and looked at me and then looked up and around for something. I wouldn't have been this comfortable with a stranger, but I let him turn me around and pointed me in the direction of dad. The doctor then ran off.
I began to run towards dad, who spotted me and began to run towards me. Neither of us saw the mannequin dressed in a sharp James Bond suit until it was too late. The mannequin shot dad.
It was like in the movies. Time just stopped as I watched dad tumble down, his arms still reaching out to me. Then time sped up and I ran to him and wept. I didn't care that I was at threat of being stood on, my dad had just be killed right before my eyes. Nothing else mattered. Dad was dead.
The reason for dad's death was kept under wraps for almost ten years now. I had to sign a contract with Torchwood that promised I would not tell anyone about that night for the next ten years. I've kept my promise.
But I am glad the doctor pointed out my dad to me- I was the last thing my dad saw and I know it's not the death he deserved, he deserved to live till he was an old batty man, but at least he was able to see how happy I was to find him again, even if it was for a few moments.
