Twenty Years Ago...
1986...
"Mum?. Mum, I'm home," I shouted, shutting the front door after me, my hands moving to the scarf wrapped around my neck, unravelling it then hanging it up on its usual peg on the wall, my thick yellow duffle coat joining it a few seconds later.
Something doesn't feel right, the silence of the house feeling almost deafening somehow. But I'd had this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach from the moment I woke up in Angie's bedroom, the two of us having had a sleep-over.
You know that feeling where you know something feels...different even though everything around you looked and felt the same?. It was almost as if I had a piece of myself stolen from me like a lock of hair or a missing sock.
My friend had laughed when I'd voiced my worries, had put it down to that stupid film we'd watched last night. Naturally, I hadn't listened, had quickly made my leave from her house, trying to get home as quickly as possible, that sick feeling in my guts getting worse the nearer I'd gotten there.
I was fully prepared to laugh and scoff at myself the second I'd unlocked the front door, the house being filled with the sounds of my mum's favourite Cliff Richard record and the smell of her famous chocolate chip cookies.
"Mum?. Mum, where are you?."
If it was at all possible, the silence starts to get louder making it impossible to stop my trembling, that bad feeling becoming almost nauseous making me drop my bag, my trainers getting quickly untied then kicked off.
The sound of clattering makes me jump, the noise coming from the kitchen, starting to walk towards it, my arms wrapping around my waist.
Then it hits me, the smell, my hand moving to cover my mouth and nose, my other hand pushing the door open slowly, it having been closed.
The first thing my eyes land on is the body laid out on the floor, some sort of blanket covering it up to the neck. And I see some sort of wound, like a cut in a zig zag pattern, blood everywhere, surrounding the body like an extra shadow.
I go to scream getting stopped by a hand clamping over my mouth making me squeal, starting to struggle, trying desperately to break free, refusing to believe that body is my mother's.
"I'm sorry. There's no time to explain. I have to get you out of here...now."
I get released then grabbed by the arm making me turn to face who had grabbed me fully expecting to see some psycho holding a knife covered in blood, blood belonging to my mum.
Instead, I see it's a man, quite young, with short floppy blonde hair, dressed very strangely in some sort of outfit someone who plays cricket might wear.
"But...but my mum."
"I was too late. She's gone. Listen to me. You have to trust me. You need to come with me now."
"Who...who are you?."
"The Doctor."
So this is my brand new Who story. I've had a few ideas that I wanted to bring to life. This will begin shortly before the episode School Reunion in season two.