13 was in the middle of the room on all fours, in the same place as she had been left.

Come back. Please come back.

She's always hated being alone.

It's a quite obvious trait about the Doctor.

All her friends think she's dead.

They'll never find her.

They'd never find her anyway.

She's going to die in here.

She wishes she was dead.

The doctor punched the floor and screamed, the sudden outburst scaring even her.

It's not me. I'm not angry. The Master is the angry one. He made me angry. It's all his fault I'm angry!

"Guard!" She shouted, "don't leave me, I haven't done anything, please come back!"

"Listen to me!"

The Doctor paused waiting for a response, but none came.

"Please!" She shouted again.

Nothing.

"Ugh!" She punched the floor again and panted, after a few moments she rolled to lie on her back, defeated.

Her eyes to tried look, but there was black at every angle.

13 huffed, and waved her arms frustratedly.

Of all the ways to go.

In the darkness, she thought of her past, and started to laugh, yet not a happy laugh, a cold, bitter one.

After everything, this is how I'm going to go.

Huh. If I'm staying here the rest of my life, then I guess at least the warden will leave at some point. I never even got a name.

What if I keep just regenerating?! What if I'm in here for eternity, how am I supposed to know, maybe I can't die, I mean, everyone else dies around me, maybe that's why I haven't. I live a dangerous life, maybe that's why I've lived this long?

But there's too many 'maybes,' what ever happened to certainty?

She laughed an empty laugh again, already going insane.

After a while of pessimistic comments, she sat up and turned to where she thought was the door, then began to pat the area until her hands landed on the slop food.

She thought 'slop food' was a fairly accurate name.

A dozen tries later and her hand landed inside of the dish, on and in the contents, it was cold and slimy, as though it came from a mouldy tin.

13 shook the slop off her of hand and wiped it hesitantly on her trousers in disgust, then tapped around the sides of the tray for a fork.

But obviously there wasn't one.

Of course, why should there be?!

She sighed her billionth sigh of the day and allowed a pinch to stick to her fingers, drawing it nearer to her face.

Smelling it, she gagged and retracted her face from her hand in a reflex.

And sadly, she suddenly realised how hungry she was and she craved getting out of this pit and having tea at Yaz's again.

After sighing, the alien began, yet again, to put the slop in her mouth, holding her breath, she ate it all quickly.

Too quickly...

Nausea immediately waved over the Doctor, for it's taste was so putrid, and for someone such as herself, 'nausea is uncommon' is an understatement.

13 had swallowed it down and she prayed it would stay there, for she knew if she didn't, the aftermath would not be removed and there would be the stain on the walls forever.

Crawling pitifully, she moved back to where the base of the chain was in the corner and lay in a sleeping position on the ground.

There was no bed, nor was there straw but the corner felt irrationally safer to the Doctor.

She was in a sleeping position. 'Position' being the more accurate description due to the looming issue that she wasn't sleeping at all, merely trying too and failing, continually.

She never could for more than an hour, to her it just didn't feel safe.

The Doctor was vunerable and at the mercy of people who detested her, how could she sleep?

She cried silently, not wiping the tears that multiplied on her cheeks and willed herself to close her eyes.

All she really wanted was the sickness to pass, in that moment it's all she wanted at least.

13 gave up trying to escape.

She gave up trying to see her friends again.

I miss you Yaz, Graham and Ryan.

My fam.

The thought of them safe calmed her nerves, the thought of them smiling and happy. For a moment, she could close her eyes in relief, which was just enough for sleep to overcome her.