The prison cell was dank to say the least. Even for a timelord it was shiver worthy.
But a timelord? Was she even a timelord?
In this dank, cold the only light came from the stars outside, but beautiful as they were, the dim lights failed to brighten the room or 13's ever fading hope.
Anything could've been lurking in the dark around 13, but it was impossible to tell. This blackness seemed bleaker then Vashta Nerada.
She appeared in the centre, but ran straight for the window.
How could this happen?! Why me?! It can't be me?!
However, the doctor knew that she couldn't answer that question, maybe now she'll never be able to.
After a minute of gaping, she sighed, her hands came to her face as she turned away against the wall and slid down it in despair. Knees clutched to her head in fear of freezing and her elbows rested with her hands on her weary head.
What am I supposed to do?!
13 was so tired, her life was forged in lies, anger steamed off of her. Tiredness, anger, sadness, these were fueling her unease and inability to rest, as though rock, paper, scissors. Anger beats tiredness, sadness beats anger, tiredness beats sadness. It was a cycle even the doctor couldn't beat. There is no win. She is defeated.
And alone.
And hopeless.
And.. lost.
Water welled in her eyes and she no longer wiped them away, 13 merely let them fall.