I knocked on my sisters' door.

"Enter!"

I poked my head in. Both my sisters were absorbed in one book, lying on their stomachs on the bed next to each other, their blond hair mingling together as their heads bent down over the pages.

"Hi, can I borrow your laptop for a bit?"

"Yup," they responded in unison. They hadn't even heard my question.

"Thanks!" I snatched the computer off the desk and tried to dash away.

"Hey hey wait a sec," Cassie looked up, "What do you want it for?"

"Research."

"Oh." She shrugged and both of them buried their heads in the book again. "Let me know if you learn anything interesting."

I saluted and ran.

Safe in my room, I began researching police telephone boxes. I1 found that they were first invented in the late 1800s in England. They were meant to be like miniature police stations – used by police to communicate with other police, and, if there was trouble, to flash the light on top as a call for help.

The next job was to break in. I read up on lock picking and went to work, starting with my pocket knife and working my way through several screwdrivers and picks, breaking a few in the process. I had no luck.

I resigned myself to not getting in for now and turned to cleaning the box. It was strange that the room, like the tunnels, didn't have a speck of dust, but the box itself was coated with what must have been a century of grime. I polished the windows until they shone, but they were still too opaque to see through. I worked for weeks on the wood, slowly revealing brilliant blue paint.

I continued to wonder about how the box had gotten there. There was no getting around how strange it was to find a nineteenth century relic in one's attic, but even weirder was that the box was too big to fit through the tunnels, so the room must have built around it. I couldn't resist a good mystery and I fell deeper and deeper into this one. It wasn't just historic curiosity, though. I had the inexplainable feeling that there something more to this Police Box than met the eye. It had a preternatural feeling about it. I even started having dreams about it – mostly dreams where I figured out how to open the door.

I spent a lot of time in that room. Besides cleaning and unsuccessful lock-picking, I liked to draw pictures of it. I drew everything from diagrams, to pictures of it on 1800s London streets, to pictures inspired by my dreams. Bit by bit the walls of the room became covered with my artwork.

After dinner I snuck into the box room with my art kit. My colored pencils were a smorgasbord compiled from several sets. It had started with one of my mom's old sets that she put in my stocking one Christmas. My mom had considered being an artist before she decided to study history and mythology. She still loved drawing though, and her works were brilliant. When I showed an interest in art she did everything she could to encourage me. Thus, my colored pencil collection had expanded over the years to contain almost every shade imaginable. This box of pencils was one of my most treasured possessions.

I rolled out a large piece of paper, stretched out on the floor, and started. After an hour, the box had taken on every shade of blue. One melded into another, giving the appearance of it fading in and out of the light. I kept looking up at the Police Box.

It's just a box.

I sighed and pushed away my work. Standing, I put my hand against the door of the Police Box. Was it my imagination, or was there warmth radiating from it?

I stepped back and turned away. I knew this was getting out of hand. I'd known for a while that my interest was turning into obsession, but now I'd let my imagination run away. I was obsessed with an idea and now I was beginning to believe it was true.

I drew my hands over my face. I had to get out.

I packed up my pencil box and held it against my chest, climbing up the rope ladder with one hand. I crawled back through the tunnel until I came to the first split where I paused.

P.B. The scrap of paper that I'd written forever ago to mark the way to the Police Box. I stared for a moment, then with determination ripped it off the wall and crumpled it in my fist. I did the same at every split.

That night I had the most powerful dreams I'd ever had. I was standing on nothing – like space without stars. I couldn't move. There was nothing to move through. Then I saw the box in the distance. I took one step and I was in front of it, opening the door. Light burst out of door and in a moment, I was standing in a galaxy of stars. I breathed out doubt, I breathed in life.

I woke up standing on my bed. I didn't think, I took my pencil box and went up. I crawled through the unmarked tunnels and didn't once hesitate at the splits. I came down into the room, spread out a piece of paper, and drew what I'd seen.

That was it. After that there was no going back. All that occupied my thoughts day and night was the box. I knew my family was worrying about me, so I wasn't surprised when late one night I heard the secret knock on my bedroom door.

I opened the door to Dan.

"Hey."

"Hey," he responded.

I opened the door wider and we sat on the bed together. We just sat in silence. After forever I spoke.

"How worried are they?"

"Pretty worried. I think they're gonna talk to you about it tomorrow."

I nodded.

After more silence, I said, "I'm sorry."

Dan looked at me thoughtfully.

"I'm not actually sure what's gotten in to me. It just feels weird somehow, to tell my secret." I gaged his expression. "It's not anything bad, you know."

"Nobody thinks that. They're just worried."

I nodded.

After a while, I said, "I'll tell you tomorrow. No, I'll show everyone."

Dan beamed at me. "Great!"

He hopped off the bed. I slid off too, and we hugged.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said.

"See ya." I was surprised by the feeling of lightness in my chest. I hadn't realized how heavily keeping a secret from them had been weighing on me.

That night I dreamed again. I was standing in the box room, staring at a collection of broken knives and picks littering the floor.

"Did you think to try the key?"

I turned and saw Dan, raising one eyebrow as if I'd forgotten the most obvious thing in the world.

I woke up. And I remembered the key I'd found. Heart pounding, I jumped out of bed and bounded to my desk. I opened my box of knickknacks and rummaged through until I found the key I'd found in the floorboards. I hesitated, key in hand. What about my family? Should I wait until I've told them?

I thought about waking Dan but decided against it. There was no need because the key wouldn't fit. I'd just pop in and satisfy my suspicion then go back to bed.

I went up into the attic and crawled quickly through the tunnels and down the rope ladder. I just wanted to put this thing to rest. When I saw the box again I had to struggle not to be overwhelmed by all my fantasies surrounding it. I took a deep breath and pulled out the key. It was very warm, almost hot. I carefully slid it into the lock and the door clicked. Trembling slightly, I stepped inside.

It was only dark for an instant, then there was a low electrical hum followed by a flood of warm light. I blinked in shock at the room around me. It was huge – at least twenty times as big as the outside of the box. My skin was alive with goosebumps as I took it in. In the center of the room was a console of buttons and levers and at the center of the console was a clear blueish tube from which came a low thrumming. The walls were metal and domed and covers in round things. There were twisted pillars like trees throughout the room and a staircase to underneath the console. The whole place seemed to glow with life. My breath caught, and tears pricked my eyes. It was real. It was more real than I could have imagined.

In a daze, I moved into the center of the room to inspect the tube and console. It was an engine of some sort, of that much I was certain, but it was far more sophisticated than anything I'd ever seen or heard of. I put a hand out to touch the what seemed to be the core of it. The engine got louder and I had a sensation, like warm water, running through my arm. I gasped and pulled away.

A strange urge popped into my head, as if someone else had put it there.

Push the flashing blue button.

I looked down and saw the button presumably in question.

"No way." I backed away.

The engine moaned, and I got the distinct impression that it was becoming impatient with me.

I tentatively touched the engine again and got the same sensation as before.

"Are you…alive?" I whispered, feeling very foolish.

It hummed contentedly in response. I laughed incredulously. I thought about taking apart the console to learn more about it, but if this was some sort of artificial intelligence that might not be the wisest idea. Besides, I still felt the strange pull to this thing that I'd had before I got inside. Recklessly, I pushed the blue button.

It stopped flashing. Nothing happened. I wasn't sure what I'd expected, but I'd expected something.

"Hello!"

I screamed and fell on my butt. Shakily, I picked myself up quickly and ran around to the other side of the console where the voice had come from. There was a man. He was lanky and stupidly handsome, despite a ridiculous hair style, and he stood with his hands in the pockets of his brown pin-striped suit.

"Hello?" I ventured nervously.

"Hello!"

"Sorry, is this y-"

"Hello!"

I stared at him curiously. He shimmered, like tv static, and I suddenly realized he was only some kind of computer-generated image.

I laughed so hard then, I almost fell over again.

"Hello!"

"Hold up!" I gasped between laughs, "let's see if I can fix that."

I looked over the console but didn't recognize anything, so I went for the good old turn it off and turn it on again. I pushed the blue button and the voice on the other side of the engine stopped. I pushed it again.

"Hello! I guess it's time!"

I smiled at my success and ran around the console to see him.

"Well, time. Yeah…how long's it been anyway? Well, that's not important. What's important is here you are and here I am. Where'd she end up hiding anyway? I hope it was nice. 'Specially if it's been a while." Here his voice dropped to a conspiratorial level. "The old girl can get grouchy, you know. All the same," loud and jovial again, "It was nice of you to do this. I thought about asking my friend Toby, but he was laid up. Pregnancy, you know. Oh, I can't wait to see those kids swim! Although actually, not having hands might have made it a difficult task for him, come to think of it. Never entrust your TARDIS to a bloke without hands. I'm not being racist! Just, you know…fish. Oh! Speaking of fish, did you ever get that blackberry jelly? I know that was a while ago – and Ethiopia – but I really need it to fix the TARDIS' data coils. She is really in need of a tune up, but don't tell her I said so. Only makes her fussy. Also, and I'm really sorry, I have a confession to make. Please don't be mad. I accidentally gave Polly a love potion – some wizard chap in 1400s England gave it to me – and she ran off with another hermit crab. I'm sorry. But I promise you they'll be happy. As clams. Despite being hermit crabs. Did I ever tell you about the time I met the king of the crabs? Turned out he was just a bloke who'd been cursed into being a crab. Although I'll tell you, looked better as a crab if you asked me. Anyway, what I wanted to tell you was that I left my coat at the cleaner's. Please pick it up on April the twenty-first, 1989 at 2:04 precisely. Janis Joplin gave me that coat, so it's important to me. Speaking of important, did you ever look at those sticks I gave you? Chappa was very insistent that you look at them. I told him I was much better at deciphering Nordawacian twigs, but he was adamant that it be you. Honestly, I think he fancies you. He showed me some poetry, though he didn't tell me who it was for. It was one of the worst things I've ever read – and that's saying something, considering I've met Scott Fitzgerald – but I told him he was a regular Shakespeare and he took it as a compliment, although I don't think the Nordawacs have heard of him before. I may have started something. Willy never would believe just how many planets his works have reached."

My jaw was hanging open, but it didn't even register with me.

"Have you met William yet? You really should, he's brilliant, in all senses of the word. Also, you need to visit Apalapucia." He smiled and his smile was gorgeous. "Gosh that's a fun word to say. The place is gorgeous. Gardens and gardens and gardens. But no one goes there because it's only the second most popular holiday spot in the universe. Which of course makes it perfect for all you introverts! Well anyway, thanks again for taking care of her. Catch you later."

The message ended, and the image disappeared, but before I could consider what I'd heard he reappeared.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! Push the green button for instruction!" It turned off again.

I took a deep breath. "Wow." I didn't know what to do, so I went ahead and pushed the flashing green button.

The man reappeared.

"So, it's all set for the return trip. Just pull the wibbly lever (the one under the gong) and then you'll have about a minute before she takes off." It turned off.

That was it. though the first message had been overwhelming, this one was perfectly clear. This vehicle, or whatever it was, clearly belonged to someone else and that someone else wanted it back. The thought made me physically ill.

I shut my eyes. I wished I was the kind of person who could say "finders keepers" and move on without guilt, but I wasn't. I had to let it go.

"At least let me see a little more," I asked the TARDIS, for that's what this box was, I realized.

She hummed her assent and opened up another door, leading me further in.

I spent hours exploring her rooms. She was so beautiful and held such wonders. And always she talked to me. Never out loud, but gently nudging my mind. It should have felt strange, but after all that time sitting with her in my attic it was like finally meeting a good friend you've only ever written to.

As the night was ending she led me back to the first room.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye," I murmured.

I could feel her sympathy. I sat down and cried for myself and my loss. But finally I stood and went to the console.

"One minute, yeah?" I put my hand over the wibbly lever.

"Goodbye, then. Thanks for everything."

I pulled the lever down hard and bolted for the door. As I reached it though, the doors closed. I pulled on them, but they didn't budge. The TARDIS was making so much noise and it started to shake.

"No!" I pulled harder, but I was losing my footing. The TARDIS jerked and I fell to the ground. That's when I saw him.

I'd never had visions before; my only dreams happened when I was asleep. But now my mind was flooded with images of the man in the message. I saw him glowing with power. I saw him burning with anger. I saw horrifying beasts cowering in front of him, armies of monsters running at the sight of him. Burning, drowning, yelling, while he stood and watched. I saw what he was and I was terrified.

When I could see my surrounding again, I realized the box was still shaking, I crawled over to the console and looked over the screens, the buttons, anything that could help. I saw a dial with numbers, spinning. It was counting down. 2011, 2010, 2009… they started going down faster, 1982, 1940 … And I finally realized what I'd gotten myself into. Time travel.