Was meant to get this up ages ago, but unfortunately had it uploaded in the doc manager on a different computer, then had to re-write it. Thanks for reading, if you like it, or don't, drop me a review!
Part Two
And the child grew, and learned the alphabet, and the names of the 500 planets and stars in the book her mother gave her, and not to bring 'lost' bugs and snails and twigs into her room.
She had eyes that glinted gold in the sunlight, and soft brown curls that never seemed to stay in one place, no matter how many ties and clips her mother used.
She had a penchant for things of the banana flavour, a certain distaste for anything of the pear, and insisted on marmalade for breakfast every morning.
She ate more mixture than she helped to put in the cake tin, and squealed when Jack chased her around the garden, and cried when her blue crayon broke- "blue is for the TARDIS, mummy", and sat silently by Mickey as he replaced a leaking radiator.
She talked incessantly of everything she saw, thought, and felt, and rattled off innumerable equations and theories on subjects her family knew nothing of.
The imagination of a child, Jackie said.
She sung wordless songs of a time gone by; haunting melodies that played on her mother's mind like memories.
And high on a hill, in the creeping shadow of night the child pointed out the stars she knew by heart and murmured their names, and sang her mother a song about ones of the twinkly variety. And her mother told her of the stars she had seen, and of ghosts and Daleks and nuns that are cats (not the pragmatical kind), and of the people she had met on her travels.
And she crawled into bed, the soft embrace of sleep pressing down on her eyes. And her mother tucked her in, and held her close, and whispered tales of aliens, of adventure, of love, and of daddy and his blue box in the sky;
up above the world so high.
Fin.