Aahhh, hello.

No, I fear this is no dream, my friend.

You didn't just stumble in here by chance, you wanted it, didn't you?

You expected a distraction, a comfort. Let me tell you a tale. Pretty fair deal, right? Shall we?

This is a tale about one girl, whose life seems at first ordinary, filled with many moods and opportunities, who with her mere existence can swell a wave, start a chain of events with momentous consequences!

Don't you want to know how a mere mortal and a timeless being end up captivating each other so much that they end up altering an already written destiny? I thought so…

It all started with an accident during a storm. Quite a storm, in fact. One, where the wind blew so hard and fast that there was no choice but for trees to bend and break. One, where the rain fell so heavily that it made the road slippery, blurred the view and forced drivers to slow down. One, where lightning burst in the sky, lighting up the dark sky. Where the storm roared so loudly that windows shook and could be felt in people's chests.

It was a storm where people would rather be at home than out on the road. And it was a storm that would cause the most brutal life change ever experienced by one girl especially…

Like all rides in life, this one was no different from any other. The bus ran slowly, the driver driving carefully to keep the many passengers in his long, wide vehicle from being hurt by the weather outside. While the weather was extremely windy and rainy, it was perfectly normal. The Autan wind was a harbinger of the change of season. Spring was coming. Although... with global warming, it had already been spring, ahead of time by several months.

In this slow and crowded bus, only about ten people were wearing surgical masks. Mostly elderly people. Afraid of catching the endemic disease of the last four years. Sitting near the exit doors and a stop button, a young adult, barely out of her teens, was watching the cars passing quickly on the opposite side of the road. Occasionally her gaze fell on the screen of her phone, which she held in her hand, her fingers smoothly swiping across the screen to select a different song. On her legs rested a khaki cloth bag, decorated with badges and pins and various weathered designs; and between her legs was a grey wheeled suitcase.

The young woman was feeling tired and sleepy. And despite the few stops that separated her from her home and her parents who were expecting her with joy, she let herself be swayed by the vibrations of the bus and carried away by the rhythm of the music diffused by wireless headphones fixed into her ears and hidden by thick red curls.

No one could have foreseen the sudden and brutal road accident that occurred a few seconds later, least of all the redhead girl. This accident, which would only appear on the front page of the local and regional newspaper, would be the turning point in the young girl's sudden change in her life. In this accident, which cost the lives of several people, no one would notice the sudden disappearance of the young girl, whose skull was supposed to hit the window of the bus and die.

Instead, she vanished into thin air, along with her belongings, only to reappear far, very far away, and quite suddenly, with no sound or flash, like a candle flame blown out. Her back and hands scraped the pavement, as if she had been pushed. The girl took a sharp breath and winced slightly in pain. Her eyes fluttered quickly, adjusting to the sudden luminosity, before she focused on the joints of her hands, which were red and bleeding. Her pounding heart did not slow down once she realized that she was no longer on the bus and didn't recognize where she was.

Watching her new environment in silence, she noticed with anxiety that her suitcase and headphones were missing. Her bag lay next to her, with her arm wrapped around the shoulder strap, and her phone remained with her. Shocked and panicked, she paid no attention to the rain that began to fall. She remained on the ground, her head full of endless unanswered questions. She may have stayed on the ground for hours, eventually catching pneumonia, if it weren't for one woman's empathy.

Returning to her empty flat, Jackie happened to spot the young woman from afar. Seeing that the woman was not moving despite the rain, she became worried and gained enough confidence to go over to her.

Laying a hand on her shoulder, Jackie spoke.

"You all right, love?"

The redhead stared at her interlocutor. Her voice was somehow familiar to her, her face and her blond hair too, but she couldn't put her finger on who she was. She knew her, she knew it! Also, she was speaking... English? Why did she speak English? Wasn't she in France? Was she?

"Need some help, love?" insisted the woman.

"Yeah…" the redhead gulped. "I'm fine… but… Where am I? I don't understand what's happening. I was just on the bus, and now I'm here, and some of my things are gone."

"You're in London, darling! Do you want me to call for help? Is there anyone out there for you?"

"Je… I…"

Jackie raised her hand to place it on her forehead and then withdrew it hastily.

"Gosh, you're freezing! No wonder why you look so lost, you need to warm up. A good cup of tea and warmth is what you need! Come on, I'll take you home with me."

Jackie assisted the redhead to get up. Noticing the young woman's injured hands, she picked up her bag.

"Let me take care of your bag, sweetheart. I live in one of these buildings, not far from here. See?"

Jackie pointed to a complex of communal flats before walking in their direction. Alvia was disturbed by the buildings, and more questions raced through her mind. The woman's identity had become more obvious but it was impossible. It couldn't be real. It was scientifically impossible... for her world.

She was silent for the entire walk, following the woman back to her flat. It was when she noticed a pile of missing persons posters with a certain name printed on them that all doubts were blown away.

Rose Tyler.

The name had the effect of a bomb on the young woman's mind. She was no longer a few minutes away from her home, let alone in France. And definitely not her world anymore. But how? how?! How did she travel to another world? Was it just a dream? Was she in a coma? Everything appeared so real.

What about her life? How would she get home? Can she even go home?

Rose Tyler.

The horror hit her. She was stuck here... the probability of her getting home was... zero. There was no way that... no... maybe... no too dangerous... Besides, would he believe her?

"Merde…merde, merde, merde…" muttered the redhead.

The truth was hard to face. She wanted to deny this reality, to wake up in the bus. This was a scenario she only read about in the fanfics! How can she be here? There was no rational explanation! Or even logical and applicable to this world! She just... popped up here!

"There you go, sweetheart, a nice cup of tea, with a bit of honey." said Jackie, holding out a steaming mug. "Sit, sit! you're looking like you're gonna pass out!"

"I feel like I'm gonna pass out…" sit down, you're looking like you're gonna pass out.

The redhead silently sipped her tea, under Jackie's worried and concerned gaze.

"I'm Jackie Tyler by the way. What about you sweetheart? What's your name?"

"I'm… I… I'm…"

She couldn't say it. It was as if there was something blocking her from saying it.

She couldn't handle it anymore. Everything was too much and her name was the last straw. She suddenly erupted into tears. Jackie rushed over and hugged the sobbing young woman. It broke her heart to the see her like this.

The cry continued until she was completely drained. With flushed eyes and shaking body, the stray girl succumbed to exhaustion in Jackie Tyler's arms.

Unwilling to wake her up, let alone put her outside, Jackie Tyler took her with some difficulty to the nearest bed. She closed the curtains to keep the light from disturbing her and quietly observed the sleeping girl for a moment, thinking about her own disappeared daughter, then closed the door and quietly returned to her daily routine.

When the girl woke up, exhaustion didn't leave her body. And it took several minutes before she managed to recall the last events. Tears came back and she couldn't help crying again. But this time in silence.

After a while, her tears dried up and she no longer had the strength to cry. Rather than mourn more than she felt she should, the redhead started to think about what she should do, about her future. Deep inside her there was this ultimate dream, the dream of thousands of people. But she had to keep her feet on the ground, as painful as it might be.

If she was to live or even survive here she had to start by establishing an identity. A name. But she already had one, her heart and her being were tied to a name and surname she had held dearly since the day she was born. How could she give up that name? The very thing that constituted her whole identity.

"Je m'appelle… "the redhead whispered. " Je suis… "

She couldn't say it. She tried again and again, in every language she knew. But She couldn't say her own fucking name. Each time her throat knotted, as if her name could not be told, should not be told. As if her name were somehow a secret that should be hidden in the depths of her mind and her heart but she could no longer remain nameless. So, for endless moments she concentrated on looking for a name that would fit her. She thought again and again of a name that she liked and that resembled her, in vain. Until she finds one.

It was not strictly speaking a name. As far as he knew, no one bore that name. It was a name she had created years ago.

Originally it was five letters handwritten with a crayon alongside a drawing. Later it became an artist's name, as she signed each drawing or story she had made. Eventually it became a nickname in online games before it became her official pseudonym on the internet. On different communication platforms, social networks... Hiding her true identity for a semblance of anonymity.

This name was her persona. This name, which she could not reveal, belonged to a girl from another world. It was no longer her. Not anymore. The girl she was now was a complete stranger. Therefore, she felt it was necessary to have a name as strange as herself.

Alvia

Alvia

A

What a strange name. It sounds Celtic or Slavic, or even Asian. Perhaps it has Greek or Latin origins. There was something Basque about it, right?

Well, she didn't know. It was a strange name; one she had made up years ago. And she liked it.

There was no significance behind the name, no promise either.

Only a new life and lots... oh ! Lots of secrets.