I am Sarah Matheson. I am 20 years old and living in a tiny town called Sunday. Apparently, according to my mother, when you start a diary it is necessary to introduce yourself, in case one day you become famous and you decide to publish it as your memoires. I don't see much point since I maintain the opinion that only I should read this and I already know who I am, however I'm not really a guru when it comes to diary writing. I wouldn't even be doing this if not for the fact that there is nothing much else to do in Sunday. This town seems to be stuck in a state of perpetual dullness. The streets are clean and the people are moderately friendly but when the world moved on from the 50's to the 60's, then to the 70's and on until today's date of December 5th 2013, well, the world seems to have left Sunday behind. My mother also said I needed to include the date.
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December 6th 2013
I lie, I lie. Sometimes Sunday is interesting, if just a tad. Today two new people moved in next door. I didn't see much of them but Mum says they're called John and Lucy Smith. Nice, proper names, Mum said. I should stop listening to her.
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December 8th 2013
Today is my Birthday, hooray! Mum took me out to dinner. I hate going out to dinner with her because she always sends the food back to the kitchen. There's always something wrong with it apparently. Mum's my only family though. She never mentions Dad at all. I've never met him. I just assume that the moment he saw my weird little baby face he scampered off with his tail between his legs, the bastard. Anyway, I saw John and Lucy Smith at the restaurant as well. According to Mum they're father and daughter. I'm not so sure. They seem a little too friendly with each other. Maybe they're husband and wife. I told this to Mum. She didn't seem to like it. She said John was way too old to be Lucy's husband. I remember rolling my eyes at her. We agreed to disagree.
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December 9th 2013
I hate that I don't have anyone else in Sunday to talk to apart from Mum. No one else can speak in sign language. They haven't bothered to learn. It frustrates me to no end. There are plenty of other people in their 20s here that I'm sure I'd get along fine with, but I refuse to have to write everything down if I have a conversation. Oh well, there's always the Internet.
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December 10th 2013
I ran into John Smith today. I mean, I literally ran into him. It wasn't my fault; he just seemed to appear out of nowhere. I do kinda feel sorry for making him drop all his things though. I could tell he was saying something to me, I'm not sure what though. I handed him my card. I have these business card things that I hand out to new people I meet to let them know I'm deaf. It was Mum's idea, but I got to choose what I put on the cards. They say:
Although I do find it hilarious watching you move your mouth up and down, I should probably let you know that my ears suck at hearing and they're just there for ornamentation.
I can't believe she let me put that on the cards. I suppose she was feeling kinda sorry for me while she was making them. I had just broken my leg falling down the stairs. Sometimes I miss the cast. It was fun to draw on.
When I handed the man my card I could tell he laughed. Then he told me he thought they were cool. In sign language! We ended up talking for ages, just standing in the middle of the sidewalk. It was amazing talking to someone face to face that wasn't Mum.
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December 15th 2013
Yesterday I went to the movies. They were replaying Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I love the books, and I've watched the movies enough with the subtitles on that I know what they're saying even when I see it in the cinemas. When I told John about my love for the series he disappeared into his and Lucy's bedroom (ha! They are married) and returned with a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. He told me it was signed by, and I quote 'good old JK herself', and when I opened the cover there her signature was in blue ink. He told me I could keep it. Afterwards he said something I couldn't quite make out because of the fact that he said it and didn't sign it. Luckily however, due to my, I will admit, very poor lip reading skills, I think he said something to do with JK Rowling, and something like 'both dimensions'. Whatever that's supposed to mean.
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December 17th 2013
I went to the post office today to buy some stamps. Mum's always saying you can never have enough stamps. She collects them. Whenever she says this I always imagine our house covered in millions of stamps with the Queen's face on them. Mum's one of those people who still supports the monarchy even though it's outdated and we live in Australia. I think if I ever win the lotto, I'll buy a million queen stamps and stick them all over the house just to see what would happen. Anyway, I was surprised to find out that the person selling me the stamps was none other than Lucy Smith, John's wife. She was very pretty, which I'm not proud to say made me just a bit jealous. She had long ginger hair and one of those side fringes Mum's always trying to make me get. She had these wicked light green eyes and a few freckles on her nose. I've always wanted freckles. I think they're cute, but I'm one of those people who have none at all, just plain skin, if you don't count the mole on the side of my nose, and I try not to. I was ready to pull out my teeny tiny whiteboard that I use to communicate with people who can't speak sign language (I only use it when I have to) but she beat me to it and told me in sign language (Marvellous, our numbers are growing) that it would be $60 for the box. She then explained that John had told her about me, and that she'd learned British sign language ages ago for her brother Tony who was mute, and then decided she wanted to learn Australian and American Sign Language too. We've decided to get morning tea together on Friday, which I'm really looking forward to. It'll be so great to talk to someone who's only a few years older than me.
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December 19th 2013
Lucy and I caught up for morning tea today. It was loads of fun, even though Lucy is a lot smarter than I am. That's not saying much though; I've never really been great academically. At least I have common sense, which I suppose is something. Anyway, Lucy was great and we got along fine. She offered to ask her manager at the post office to give me a job, but I told her that I make enough money selling my artwork online. She asked me if I have a boyfriend or a girlfriend but I told her no. She said they were overrated anyway. I asked her what it was like being married. Apparently she and John aren't actually married, though they might as well be. She said that most of the time John's fantastic, though sometimes it's difficult living with someone who thinks they're gods gift to the entire bloody universe. Sort of offhandedly she mentioned they're not staying in Sunday for very long and then gave me a sad sort of smile. Their 'mode of transportation' broke down just after they arrived and when they get it working again they're going to be leaving. I couldn't help but feel disappointed, though I offered to get Mum to drive them wherever they needed to go. Lucy said it was a bit more complicated than that.
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December 25th 2013
I hate Christmas.
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December 26th 2013
And Boxing Day.
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December 31st 2013
And New Years Eve.
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January 2nd 2014
All hail the New Year. Hoorah... (Note the sarcasm). I suppose I should explain why I hate all this. I mean, it might help to write it all down; rant a bit to blow off that Christmas steam.
Right, I cannot possibly describe how much I dislike holidays. The presents are always terrible. I mean really, really atrocious, even though I spend hours meticulously choosing gifts for others. Last year every single thing that I got seemed to be some sort of toiletry. I swear, I must have obtained at least 12 different coloured soaps. It's like everyone's trying to subtly indicate that I smell or something. I know it's supposed to be the thought that counts but its like they're not even thinking at all. Though I suppose I'll have to begrudgingly give them points for effort. Besides it's hard to feel courteous when every time you walk into a room people start staring and whispering. Their greasy hands cupped to someone else's ear, mouths moving furiously like obnoxious mice trying to nibble the other person's earlobe off. Just because I'm deaf doesn't mean I'm stupid. I reckon it's all Mum's fault to begin with anyway. Every year, no matter what, she always invites the whole town to our house for Christmas, Boxing Day and New Years Eve. With no one to talk to I'm without fail left sitting alone in some shady corner, furiously guarding the bowl of potato gems and playing Sudoku on my iPhone. This year I held a tiny shining sliver of hope that perhaps John and Lucy would come to the parties and I'd have someone to talk to, or at least someone to join me in multiplayer Sudoku, but neither of them showed. And that's why I hate the holidays.
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January 24th 2014
I haven't written anything in ages. I lost my diary. Mum found it though when she was vacuuming (it was under the couch). Lucy and I've gotten to be really good friends since I last wrote. It's great to finally have real, proper friends apart from my Mum. I remember telling her that I'd never left Sunday before, never seen the ocean, so she and John planned a road trip for the three of us up to the gold coast. I'm really excited, though I worry that I may feel like a bit of a third wheel. They're constantly talking about stuff that I don't understand, though for politeness sake, they do talk about it in sign language. I remember the first time I showed Lucy and John the bushland that surrounded Sunday. We ran into a Kangaroo and John's face immediately soured. Lucy said it was because the last time they came to Australia, John got into a fight with a kangaroo. Needless to say he lost and has never gotten over it. After this he went into a rant. Something about the kangaroo having superior technology and something about molecules and pears. Perhaps when we go on our trip I'll introduce him to an echidna.
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January 29th 2014
Only three days left till our trip. I know I should be looking forward to it, but I keep on getting these weird feelings about leaving Sunday. Maybe it's just the fact that I'll be leaving Mum all alone for a whole month. Anyway, I've never left this hell whole in my life, its natural to feel a little jittery.
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January 31st 2014
We're leaving tomorrow and I'm all packed and ready to go. We're borrowing Mum's car since Lucy and John don't own one and I can't drive. I still have that lingering feeling of uneasiness in my stomach but I'll deal. Lucy says I may have a stomach bug, but I don't know, I don't really feel queasy as such. John says we can delay the trip as long as we want if I'm not feeling well, but I told him I'm fine. I promised Mum I'd get her some stamps from the gold coast.
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February 1st 2014
3...2...1...Blastoff! Today's the day! I'm writing this in the car right now so it may be a bit messy, but I really couldn't care less. I'm finally leaving Sunday! Monday here we come! Nah, we're going to the gold coast baby! Lucy's driving because, although he'll deny it to the ends of the earth, John's pretty horrible at it. I just caught a glimpse of the 'You're leaving Sunday' sign. I can't wait to see the sea. The rolling waves, the sand, the shells. I'm feeling that feeling again though; it's anxiousness in my stomach. I'm getting tired all of a sudden, I don't know why. I can see Lucy and John are too. Everything's going hazy
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Still February 1st 2014...
I remember waking up in my bed at home. I remember turning on the light and being momentarily blinded. I don't think I realised anything was amiss until at least 30 seconds later, but when I did, I ran straight into Mum's room. I remember asking her what happened, why I was suddenly back at home. She asked me if I was okay then told me that we'd decided we didn't want to go on the trip after all and we came back, but I was tired so I took a nap. I didn't remember any of that. I still don't. I remember Mum taking a few steps towards me. She had this weird glint in her eye. She told me not to try and leave Sunday again. From there I ran all the way to the Smith's flat. I should have gotten a gold medal for that run, it was practically a bloody marathon. Anyway, the same thing had happened to them. We've decided to meet again tomorrow at the town border to investigate what's going on.
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February 2nd 2014
I'm writing this from that old barn at the edge of Sunday. The sun's setting and it looks like the red soil is sort of melting into the sky. I should find it beautiful. It's textbook beautiful. But I'm not in the mood for aesthetics right now. I remember waking up this morning; I was a secret agent, wearing all black, getting up at the crack of dawn, sneaking out of the house. I was the coolest kid in Sunday and I was so excited. I met with Lucy and John at the 'You're leaving Sunday' sign, which is only a two kilometre walk out of town. John held up this device, which I assume was some sort of scanner thing. He pointed it at random places in the landscape. I thought he was a bit mad to be honest. I saw him telling Lucy that something was messing with the readings. At the time I wasn't sure what he meant.
Lucy told us to all hold hands and then together we all walked towards the border of Sunday. I'll admit, I was pretty lost. I had no idea what was going on and it scared me a bit. We all started to feel tired again but when we stepped back from the border we were fine. We decided to give it one more go but then I blacked out.
I woke up in my bed again. Even now I'm still coming to terms with the weirdness of it all. I got up to go to the kitchen and I found Mum there, I guess she was waiting for me. She was Mum, but she kinda wasn't at the same time. That glint in her eye was back and she looked pretty terrifying. I don't remember everything she said to me exactly, but I do remember her saying this, because she signed it so heavily and so forcefully: "You shouldn't have tried to leave Sunday". Then she picked up a knife.
I didn't really hang around long enough to find out what she was going to do with that knife. I ran into town, it felt sort of empty. I was crying so I couldn't really see where I was going and I bumped into Mrs. Hepner, an old lady from Tennyson Street. I pulled out my whiteboard and asked her for help; she'd always given out an air of senile kindness, though we had never really had any proper conversations before. She smiled at me then reached into her purse and pulled out a gun and pointed it at me. I had never seen a gun before. They were incredibly rare in Sunday. I heard Mr. Collins from Gregson Street owned one but that was just a rumour. I stumbled backwards and fell over. I skinned my knee.
I got up and kept on running. In any direction. I don't think where I was going mattered to me much, but I ended up in front of John and Lucy's flat, so my subconscious probably brought me there. I didn't knock on the door, but John must have been expecting me cause he opened it and ushered me in. Lucy was pacing around the lounge room. I asked them if anyone had randomly tried to kill them as well. Lucy said her manager at the post office had tried to electrocute her. I began hyperventilating. John told me to breath deeply and try to calm down, he wouldn't have me black out on them. I'm not very proud of what I did then. I pushed him off me and started shouting. And cursing. I'm not gonna write down everything I said cause it wasn't my best moment but I was horrible and I blamed him for what was happening. I said none of this would've happened if he and Lucy hadn't come to Sunday. He told me he was sorry but he was trying to fix it. I still feel terrible for shouting at him like that.
I asked Lucy what was happening. She and John gave each other the look. I hate the look. When two people know something they're not telling you. The look's on my list of top ten things people do that I hate. Right after when someone eats food that I was planning to eat. Anyway, I asked them again what was going on even though I knew I wouldn't get a proper answer. When someone's already given someone else the look you know you're never gonna get anything from them. They said they don't know what's going on. John told me we should probably get out of there though.
I followed him and Lucy out of their apartment and we stealthily made our way all across town, avoiding any people we saw. We were practically ninjas. We made our way to this barn on the outskirts of Sunday and now we've come full circle. The sun's just set and I'm feeling pretty shitty. Lucy says they probably won't find us here. I hope she's right. I just want to find out what the hell is going on and then for this to be over. I want my Mum back.
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February 3rd 2014
I've decided to record everything that happens today. It might help.
10:00 am
I woke up pretty late. Lucy says she didn't want to make me get up too soon since yesterday was pretty rough. I told them I needed answers. They gave each the look again. Damn it! They said they didn't want to say anything until they were 100% sure.
11:00 am
It's getting pretty frustrating over here. Lucy and John are talking to each other. I can tell because their mouths are moving in that weird way people's mouths move when they talk. They keep throwing glances at me. It's getting kind of unnerving. I wish they'd either talk in sign language or shut up. Being deaf sucks.
12:00 pm
Now they've stopped talking altogether. John keeps on waving his weird pen scanner thing around and Lucy's just sitting there. I wish there was something I could do to help. I'm not entirely useless. But every time I ask they say there is nothing for me to do. So now I'm just sitting in the corner playing Sudoku on my iPhone, which is nearly out of battery...
1:00 pm
I'm getting kinda hungry now. I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday. Wait... it's ok. Lucy just handed me a packet of those weird sweet potato chips that you can get from the organic store in Sunday Square. They're not that bad. Taste a bit oily though.
2:00 pm
John and Lucy have gone out to check on some stuff. I don't know. They told me to stay here though. I miss my Mum. I have no idea what happened to her and it's really freaking me out. What the heck is going on? Once they get back I'm going to demand some answers. They can't just leave me in the dark anymore. Just because I'm deaf doesn't mean I'm stupid, I know when something's really, really wrong. I just hope it's something we can fix.
3:00 pm
When they came back I was really planning to pummel them for information, but when they opened the barn door they started shouting at me to secure it and make sure nobody gets in. We ended up putting planks of wood across it just like in the movies. It turns out they were being chased by the crazy, murderous townspeople. Today's just gotten weirder.
9:00 pm
I guess I must've fallen asleep. It's all dark, which makes the barn feel kinda creepy. The townspeople have stopped trying to get in. I can tell because the wood is no longer shaking. John and Lucy are out of it. I want answers but I'll wait till they wake up.
10:00 pm
My iPhone's run out of battery. John and Lucy are still asleep. I've given up trying to play tik-tak-toe with myself in the dirt. I win every time. The moon is shining so brightly outside and there are no clouds in the sky. There are so many stars out there. I wonder what it would be like to see them up close; to visit other worlds. Maybe someday people will get out there. See the universe. Maybe someday I will. I doubt it though. For some reason I get the feeling like I won't be seeing the stars again.
11:00 pm
At almost exactly 11 o'clock a car crashed through the side of the barn. At least it woke up Lucy and John. A load angry, crazy people jumped out of back and started towards us. John took my hand and told me to run. He, Lucy and I ran so far and so fast. We ran into the bushland near the border of Sunday. We came to a clearing but I stopped John. I grabbed onto his wrist tightly and pulled him back. I demanded to know what was going on. I'm not proud to say I wasn't keeping it together very well. I was crying and shouting and gripping hard onto his wrist. I asked again. John gave me an annoyingly sympathetic look. He asked me if I'd ever played The Sims. I told him I had. He said it was a bit like that. This town, Sunday. This town isn't real. It's a virtual projection into our minds. The people aren't real people, they're just computer code. Like Sims, they can still do things of their own free will, but essentially it all comes down to the controller. He said he thinks he and Lucy have been put here to keep them out of the way from something, but when they tried cross the border, the system decided to get rid of them permanently. He told me there were heaps of little glitches everywhere. Then he told me to feel the dirt. It was cold. Today was really hot so why was the dirt cold? He said that was just one of the glitches. He told me it wasn't a very good program. They'd mixed up the dates. They took a 1950's town and stuck it in 2014. They got everything mixed up.
I asked him why was I put in here, why did they want me out the way? I wasn't anyone important. He just gave a sad smile...and then, in that moment, I knew. Just because I'm deaf doesn't mean I'm stupid. But I didn't want to know. I wouldn't let him say it. It would make it true.
If anyone is reading this now, you can probably tell that recently I've been trying to write down everything. That is because I want to be remembered. I want to remember myself. I don't want to forget who I am. I don't want anything to change me. This diary is my backup disk. I want all the memories safe.
Because I'm not real.
John told me this. I'm just another length of code. I'm a piece of software that mutated into a virus. The system lost control of me. I've been running amuck. They accidently made me fully sentient and now they're struggling to delete me. This life. Is a LIE. I didn't come into existence until Lucy and John arrived. My memories before are computer generated. I'm computer generated. So I know it doesn't matter what happens to me now. I was never alive.
11:50 pm
Time passes but it doesn't matter. It's not real time. And I'm not a real person. They say that they have to get out of Sunday, but them leaving will make Sunday cease to exist. Will make me cease to exist. They know how to get out, I can see it in they're faces, but they're trying to work out a way to take me with them. To make me real. But I can feel in my heart that it's just not possible. And they're running out of time. I can see the vibrations of the ground. The computer people are getting closer.
11:55 pm
I am Sarah Matheson. I am 2 months old and living in a tiny town called Sunday. This is the last time I'll write. I shouted at John and Lucy. I told them they have to take this chance. Because they both have lives outside of Sunday. And I'm being incredibly brave right now by letting them go and I'm not sure how long it'll last. They finally agreed. I said they needed to wait two minutes first. Wait two minutes for me to finish writing. Then they have to take this diary with them. They said that the diary couldn't exist outside of Sunday. I know it will though. I need it to. I told them this diary is me: My memories and my life, so they won't dare leave it behind.
11:59 pm
John once mentioned to me that some people live more in 20 years than others do in 80. It's not the time that matters, it's the person. I've lived for 2 months, and I can still say I've had an amazing life.
12:00 am February 4th 2014
If there's a computer heaven, I hope they have stamps.
The Thorn gently turned the last page of the battered old diary. She wiped the tears out of her eyes.
"Do you know how she did it?"
The Doctor hesitated.
"I'm not sure. Turning the diary from computer code to an actual book must have used up an enormous amount of energy."
After Sarah had given the Doctor her diary, he had used the sonic screwdriver to disable the illusion of Sunday and he and the Thorn had woken up on a spaceship, Sarah's diary in his pocket. His sonic screwdriver wasn't really his sonic screwdriver but the program makers didn't seem all that intelligent and they made the screwdriver have the same functions. The whole ship they woke up on looked old and dilapidated. No one apart from them was on board and they were just floating somewhere in space.
"I think that's why this ship is abandoned." The Doctor looked at the Thorn. "When she created The Diary she must have drained most of the ships power. This thing can't go anyway. Looks like the crew just jumped in escape capsules and left the ship here to float in space."
"I wonder what they wanted us out of the way for..." the Thorn said as she ran over to the TARDIS, the real TARDIS, which sat abandoned in the corner of the flight deck.
"They wanted us out of the way, but where they could keep an eye on us. Maybe they wanted to invade a planet. I don't know, there are loads explanations. Looks like they've scrapped their plans though. Maybe we'll never find out..."
"I'm sorry Doctor, but I just want to go home. Sarah, she was our friend and..." The Thorn sniffed and composed herself. "Anyway, I think we should do something for her."
The Doctor just nodded.
They made their way into the TARDIS and took off.
Now however, in the second corridor to the left, on the fifth floor of that blue box, there is a tiny room, holding nothing but a diary and a small plaque.
It says:
Sarah Matheson
December 8th 1993 to February 4th 2014
The Girl Who Lived
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.
