It was so cold. Melody pulled the blankets closer to her. She sighed just a little. That was better. She tried to fall back asleep. She was so tired. She couldn't remember the last time she made it through the night without waking up.
Melody felt a tug on the blankets. Her eyes snapped open. With a start, she looked around the room. It was almost like something should be there was missing. Melody thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She whirled around automatically.
Melody reached over to try and turn on the light. Her hand brushed something but it most definitely wasn't the lamp on her bedside table. It felt soft, but also slightly slimy. She didn't like it. Melody tried to think of anything that was in her small room at the orphanage that could make her feel this way. She couldn't think of anything that would have that texture-What texture? She hadn't felt anything. She was being silly, absolutely silly. There was nothing in the dark.
And even if there was, Madame would protect her. Madame would come and make all the monsters go away. Melody didn't get to see Madame very often. Madame would show up on the days she was feeling sick. Melody didn't like feeling sick. Her head would be pounding and everything looked like it had a slight golden glow to it. But Melody did like seeing Madame. It made her feel less alone.
The orphanage was basically empty. Well, there was that old man downstairs, but he didn't really say much. If Melody was honest with herself, she was slightly afraid of him. He would just start yelling about how she had to get out. Why would she want to get out? Everything was perfectly fine here, even if it was a bit lonely.
The blanket slipped out of her grasp again. She let it. She didn't think it would help anyway. Melody tried to remember a time when she was properly warm, not just physically, but the little warmth that you're supposed to feel in the pit of your stomach when everything is just perfect, that no matter what happens everything is going to turn out all right. Madame would hold her sometimes and that made her feel a little better, but Madame always seemed distant. It made Melody want to cry. She was a good girl. What had she done?
Melody felt the tears streaming down her cheeks. That just wouldn't do, Melody told herself. Stop crying. You have to be brave.
Melody wasn't sure where she got the idea of being brave. It was something that filled the books Madame would sometimes give her. It was something that fictional characters were supposed to be. It was something Madame had told her she had to be one day. Melody didn't feel very brave. How was she supposed to face down her parent's murderer? The Doctor destroyed things instead of healing them. He broke people, made them do his bidding. And his bidding killed civilizations, universes even.
Melody squeezed her eyes tight. She didn't want to think of her mission. She wanted to sleep. Melody wanted it all to go away. No more Doctor. No more nightmares. No more things that went bump in the night.
The next morning, she had more bruises. Melody wasn't sure what that meant. Bruises came from somewhere, but lately, she'd been waking up with them all over her arms and legs. Melody hoped she was only sleepwalking. It made sense. She never seemed to be in the same room of the orphanage. There were little changes everywhere. Furniture moved even though neither she nor the crazy man had touched it. There were odd splotches of reddish-brown on the floor.
The inconsistency that bothered Melody the most was that her pictures kept moving. She had them all organized on her dresser just the way she liked them, with the one picture of her Mum right in front. Her Mum was so pretty. It made her proud and sad at the same time. Her mum with that fiery red hair looked so happy. Melody liked the photo. Maybe one day, she would be a good enough child that her mother would be proud of her. Maybe if she was just good enough, and did all the right things and finished her vegetables, her Mum would be able to hold her again.
But Melody would never be good enough. She knew that. She saw it in the faces of everyone around her. Madame always gave her that pitying little smile, the one that meant Melody had done something wrong, the one that was always accompanied by Madame's hands shaking like she was about to break something. Melody saw it when the old man made his way upstairs. He would pause when he saw her. There would always be a split second when he looked at her with the upmost horror, before he started screaming. Melody had even scared all the other kids away. It was the only explanation. There were so many empty rooms in the orphanage that should be full. It was her fault no one else wanted to live here.
Melody got out of her bed. She moved her Mum's picture to the front again. Just doing that made her a little happier. Melody was even happy enough to ignore the rustling behind her, despite the fact she was the only person in the room.
Brief Explanation: I know it might seem weird that Melody isn't seeing/remembering the Silence, but this is the little girl who called the President because a spaceman was trying to eat her, not because strange creatures were following her. She knows something is wrong but can't put her finger on. If you have any comments on little Melody, please say something. I want to get her as right as I can.
Cool Story Time: I was the 9th doctor for Halloween. There are basically 4 reactions: The happy, excited Whovians who give great hugs, the Whovians who ask who you are because they're surprised to find another of their own kind, the people who ask and then give you weird looks and last but not least the people who have watched part of NewWho and have a vendetta against 9 (and Rose, Martha, Donna, Ten, Jack, Clara basically everyone who is not Amelia, River or Rory.) I was just happy that I only met one of the last type and that he really wasn't well versed enough to start insulting Ace or Sarah Jane.