My knees were trembling and my palm was wet as I was trying to keep the pistol on the target. The demonic figure louring in front of me was only laughing at me. His greenly flaming eyes turned to me scornfully while his body, made from clinging shadows, was rippling, swirling and almost filled my vision. An up-curving, bright gap opened on his dark face: a devilish grin.

"Let's see who's quicker!" He rattled on a hellish voice.

I tried to shoot first, I already did so many times but my fingers froze again this time, they didn't obey me. The grinning demon, as if he would like to mock me, lifted his own weapon with an agonising slowness. Meanwhile the gun drew its orbit, I fought against stiffness with all of my strength but my thumb didn't move a millimetre; I couldn't pull the trigger.

Maybe the monster got bored of my flurry or the game was juiceless for him. Fire lashed out from the throat of his weapon which was accompanied by the sound of a thunder.

This thunder brought my dream to an end.

I know all of this from the inside out, I dreamt about this so many times. As that demon covers everything from me, as I'm alone opposite him, every feeling of it stays with me even after I wake up. I was screaming on the first days, at least Agatha said so. She probably didn't lie. She came up to me those times, brought a mug of tea and stayed with me until I calmed down. Luckily I didn't scream anymore.

Oh, really, I didn't write the date: August 8th, 2013. It's still hard to believe, isn't it? Two hundred years back in time.

I could say that I wasn't surprised but I'd lie. Of course, I already had a suspicion that there's some kind of trickery is going on here after seeing the Doctor's 'bigger on the inside' telephone box but I wouldn't have guessed this. Sorry for not taking you out this far; I didn't have the strength to go near the sack, I hope you understand. But I'll sum everything up now.

So, it was three weeks ago that Agatha, who I mentioned before, adopted me. Her name is Agatha Holmes and she's an archaeologist. Her house is small but very homey and maybe the expression 'ordered chaos' would describe it. I feel well here but I got used to larger space at home and a little bigger tidiness. But this should be my smallest problem. I was given the guestroom on the first floor; it wasn't used a lot before me. A bed, a wardrobe, two bedside cabinets; I got only this. As many stuff I had that time was enough, especially for the thing I did: I was lying on the bed, watching the ceiling.

I can now state that the ceiling is boring. Agatha was with me a lot, just like Andrew. He was here almost every day; he lives a couple of streets away from us. He's very nice to me; he always waits until I want to chat and he doesn't force anything. He also kept his promise and told me what I got involved in.

So, like I said, time travel. The Doctor is a time traveller and is not human but the member of the Time Lords, an ancient species. Andrew met him last year, in 2012 (I tell you: it's complicated). As it was found out he became the target of the Nayads, another alien race, who want to see him dead. The Doctor tries to help him.

Andrew talked a lot about his adventures: he's been on more than one alien planets, was kidnapped twice, met aliens and a secret agent guards his house. Under any other circumstances, this would sound pretty cool but there aren't any other circumstances. His life is in danger. He said that he also had nightmares after his first adventure. It seems this is the Doctor's gift to his partners: nightmares and demons.

Imagine, Agatha was also the Doctor's partner, although not here but in a parallel reality but then she got the memories of her other version through a crystal skull. Madness after madness!

But as much as it was at first, the situation seemed more and more natural later somehow. Andrew and Agatha helped me a lot. We were talking; I was only listening at the beginning then I joined. We were going to London (this is the city where I live now) to know it. I got clothes not to wear Agatha's old stuff. They did everything to make me feel good after everything.

And I feel good. I'm fine at the moment.

Talks, walks, getting to know the world; my days were spent like this. Electricity is normal here! We are far from the Church's existence, not to mention it gaining power. Of course, I can't talk about these, Andrew's secret agent friend accompanied his little protégé once and gave me a presentation about what I can say a word about: like the happenings and scientific inventions of the next two hundred years, et cetera. He offered a medicine that could make me forget everything but I didn't want to let go of my memories, I am who I am from those; Lynn Grayshel who is writing her diary now.

This is how we get to this day.

After my demon woke me, I was just staring out my window; it was dawn, the Sun was coming up. I wanted to get free from this nightmare but I don't think this will happen in the near future. I got changed after a short staring and jogged down to the kitchen. The kitchen is not large, either: a table with three chairs, two kitchen cupboards, a microwave oven (we didn't have anything like this) and a dishwasher. Agatha was already up but not in 'marching order', as she called it. There are a couple of similar expressions like this that are used by the locals and seem weird to me. Agatha was still wearing her pyjamas; her shoulder-length brown hair was dishevelled and messy. She heard that I'm approaching and greeted me, smiling.

"Good morning, Sis!" Then she yawned. "You couldn't sleep again?"

"Ah, it's nothing!" I waved and lied at the same time. "The Sun shone through the window."

"I would suggest blinds." She winked at me. "French toast?"

I nodded.

French toast, to Agatha, meant that she buttered a slice of bread, placed cold cuts and grated cheese on it, put it into the micro (this is the nickname of the microwave oven) and heated it until the cheese melted. And voilà! French toast is done!

While I was eating, Agatha didn't stop for a moment: she turned into her room to come back fully dressed then to the bathroom for a comb. She combed her hair in front of the hall's mirror.

"Where are you going?" I asked between two bites.

"To the British Museum. We're planning an exhibition. After Bernard's excavation closed without success and I stay unemployed temporarily, they got me to show the visitors around." She reached into the pocket of her favourite overcoat and took out a brochure. "I want to see you on the opening!" She put it down in front of me.

I looked over the notebook, 'Treasures of Italia', this was its title. I was still interested in history; it didn't seem something I want to miss. There weren't a lot of museums at home; a few of the antiquities could only be found in the Church's temples.

"Could Andrew also come?"

Maybe Agatha was surprised by that this was my first question. She started to smile mysteriously then nodded.

"Of course, don't leave him at home!" She vanished again in the bathroom, wearing a bun when she got back. She had already put on her beige overcoat and was looking for the door keys. "Will he come over today?"

"Yes."

"Then have fun!" She winked once more then stepped out the entrance.

A sudden calmness fell onto the house. Agatha was twirling (I think they say this); she was glowing as if the energy raging in her would have made its effect felt. I loved her, my new 'big sister' but this peace was sometimes needed.

When it was enough of the peace, I washed my plate, dried it and put it back to its place. There weren't any space to just leave it on the table. I had a lot of time until Andrew arrived; he wasn't famous for getting up early. I looked into Agatha's room; I got her permission to go in there anytime, and searched her book-shelves. She was keeping a lot of books there, although she had the least from the scientific ones that had details of her job. She could be a big bookworm; she was reading a lot of adventure stories. For example, she had The Song of Ice and Fire series, although not all of them, only because they weren't written yet. Another weirdness: a bunch of books that I knew are very far away for being published because their authors weren't even born yet.

Like Mum's book. The History of Torchwood. I've never opened it; it was almost saint to me and I barely dare to touch it. Maybe I won't read it after this. It came from the future.

Neither of the books caught me at last; this was when I decided that I'll find you. I had some things to write, as you can see. I admit that I missed you. I looked at my writings from earlier… how large a turn my life did! But, as I already mentioned, I don't believe in unbelievable anymore.

Oops, someone rang the bell.

I'm here again.

It was Andrew.

Today, we went to London again: he took me to a movie theatre or cinema, if you like, to see The Wolverine. But it's not an animal, as I waited, but a guy with metal claws in his hand. Andrew was enjoying it and I couldn't put it anywhere for now. The cinema was an enormous dark room with a bunch of chairs and a large linen, onto which a film was projected; you know, the one that's on the telly but bigger and louder.

Oh, you can't know 'cause I didn't talk about TV or the Internet. I'll tell you later, this isn't the priority now. The point is that after the film, Andrew walked me back to Agatha's house but we saw that someone was standing in front of the door. She probably rang the bell and, because no one was at home, the door wasn't opened. Simple logic.

It could be seen from her posture that she's a bit confused. Approaching, we saw that it was about a woman: she was young, wore a black leather jacket and a red skirt and her brown hair was let down. Her eyes seemed implausibly large as she was looking around, helpless. When we got in front of the house, she noticed us at last. Moreover, Andrew recognised her.

"Andrew?" She asked.

"Clara!" My 'company' greeted back. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to Miss... Agatha Holmes." She read the name from a slip of paper. "Do you know her? Does she live here eventually?"

"Yes." Andrew was nodding. "But don't say Miss to her, she doesn't like it."

That's right, I approved inside, Agatha can be very very upset when someone calls her Miss or Ma'am. Make this mistake once and you'll never want to do so again!

"Why are you looking for her?"

"I'm here to represent Coal Hill School. Principal Chesterton said that there's a student here who, maybe, would like to learn there and I came to convince her. I started there not long ago so I'm the messenger, you know how it is."

Andrew looked at me in this moment, as if he would have noticed now that I'm there as well.

"You signed up there?"

"What d'you think?" I put my hand on my hip. "It was surely Agatha."

I learnt later that Agatha didn't sign up in my name, either but I was chatting in this belief. It didn't come to my mind until that second that I'll have to go to school but maybe I could fit more easily, especially if the chance fell into my lap.

"Oh, so it's you?" The woman named Clara looked at me now, reaching her hand towards me. "I'm Clara Oswald."

"Lynn Grayshel." I returned the handshake. "Shall we continue inside?"

Later, we were sitting around the table, all three of us. Miss Oswald first looked for a few adverts from the pockets of her jacket then told me how well-respected school Coal Hill was reckoned. I was always taught by Uncle Yannick; you know I've never been in school before. But it seems, not nuns are teaching here.

"I've heard that you're good at scientific subjects." Miss Oswald was smiling at me. "We put emphasis on that as well."

She was an English teacher herself, by the way. Coal Hill could be a good school, according to what was said, but I had doubts. I didn't even spend a month in the school-flouted orphanage but that was more than enough.

"Are they hitting the students there as well?" I inquired.

"What sort of school were you the student of?" Miss Oswald was thrown by the question.

"A canonical one," I replied.

"Don't worry, it's not like that here." Andrew hurried to calm me. "It isn't a tradition in our time at all. She's from the future," he explained to the teacher.

I couldn't say a word in dismay. How was Andrew able to say this? The rules of 'not talking about the future' applies only to me? Of course, I calmed down when he explained that Miss Oswald is also one of the Doctor's acquaintances, furthermore, his current 'permanent' companion.

How little this London could be, how many people were picked up by the Doctor? Why is he obsessed with this town this much? He wouldn't have succeeded in my time; London existed only on maps. The British Isles had inhabitants only on their northern parts, the rest was lifeless.

After this, Miss Oswald looked at me with a renewed interest.

"You came from the future? Cool!" She said.

She assured me that she helps me fit in and if I have any kind of problem or question anytime, I can turn to her bravely. I didn't know how to feel about a new patron. She was better than the grim secret agent, that's for sure.

It was weird that there's a common this in all these different people that is the Doctor. I wonder whether Miss Oswald also had nightmares.

We were talking a little bit more, mostly about school, and then Miss Oswald shook my hand.

"It was nice meeting you! Don't forget to tell your tutor!"

With that, she stepped through the door and I stayed here with my questions.

"Are you okay?" Andrew looked at me, worried. He was so cute when he worried.

"Of course, but it was so sudden. It didn't come to my mind after this that I'll have to go to school."

"Well, it's like this on this Earth. You also could go to South Hampstead where I'm studying. I could bring some brochures as well." He pointed at the stack of papers that Miss Oswald left behind.

"Thanks! But we'll discuss it with Agatha. You heard Miss Oswald, Agatha's my 'tutor'."

I didn't like this expression. When she was my 'new sister', it was good but I couldn't refer to her as a tutor. Uncle Yannick was my tutor. Agatha was only the kind woman who took me in.

Andrew could see that I'm churning inside because he sat next to me. I suddenly had the urge to hug him just like on the night in Egil's house, but that feeling went away. I don't know why. But the worrying eyes stayed there, those beautiful, worrying, green eyes.

And then, there, I understood something; at least I felt that I touched a spot.

My life is now defined by two pairs of green eyes. One of them is flaming, scorches and comes back to me every night to remind me of that I wasn't brave enough when I had to be. And the other is glinting worryingly but tells me that it won't leave me alone. I'm not alone because it will always be with me. He will never tell me, literally; it can also turn out that I was wrong. But now I feel, in the deepest part of my soul, that this promise is in the air, unspeakably.

And I can't be grateful enough for that!