“Amy! Amy, you’re alive!” Rory’s soft voice wake me, as he squeezes me tight. I sit up. then flop back down. “Ohhh... hardly.” My head hurts. “Don’t you remember anything?”He chuckles happily, and then squeezes me again. “How much did I drink last night? I don’t remember anything!” I groan, and he kisses my forehead. He looks somehow guilty. “What?” He looks away. “What are you so guilty about?” I laugh. “I’m not guilty! I’m just annoyed with myself for letting you... uh, drink so much.” He hugs me and walks out of the room, a tear trickling down his cheek. What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with me? I sit up. Why is it I can’t even remember a slight blur? A tear trickles down my cheek. Whoa. I must be disoriented. Rory walks back in with a bowl of porridge, an maçã, apple and a glass of laranja suco, suco de on a tray. “Thanks. Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask. “Can’t I be nice to my lovely wife? Plus, you have a... a hangover, so you need a good brekkie.” He hands me the tray. I kiss him on the cheek. “I amor you.” I say. He hugs me, but then he stops. “Hey. What’s this?” he catches the tear on his finger and winces. “I think I’m just disoriented. I’m fine.” My voice wobbles a bit. “Are you ok?” he asks, as if I know something he doesn’t. “I’m fine... I think... I feel really weird. Like... I’m forgetting something. What’s wrong with me?” My voice cracks. “You’re just... struggling with the hangover.” He says, holding me tight. I get up to have a shower. I’m probably just a bit ill. Yes, that’s it. I’m ill. I grab my favourite red batwing jumper and stumble into the bathroom. I look in the mirror. I don’t look any different. My hairs tangled, and I look a little worn out from waking up, but not like I have a hangover. The last time I had a hangover, the hollows under my eyes were a dusky grey, my face was pale, and I was puking every ten minutes. I just look... alone.
I’ve had my shower, and Rory’s gone to work. I’m at home, sitting on my bed. My head’s filled with... nothing. I feel like I’m missing something, a part of me’s missing. I don’t feel sick... just weird. I shake the feeling off, so I go for a walk. I walk down the blue carpeted stairs and out the door into the town of Leadworth. Mr Deralo walks past, his wooden cane clacking on the footpath. “Oh! Hello, Amelia.” He winks, and I smile back. He straightens his bow tie as he walks away. I blink, and shake my head. It’s so cold! I walk to the cafe, past the police box on the corner. I stop. I stare at the box, and Mrs Poggit from up the road walks up from behind me. “Are you alright, Amelia?” She asks, her depthless blue eyes straying from mine. “Yes, thank you, Mrs Poggit.” But as soon as I say that, a small, stupid, traitor tear slides down my cheek. I let out a strangled gasp for no reason. What’s wrong with me? Mrs Poggit strolls away, not wanting to be a part of it. I have a strange feeling about that woman. I go through my mind. What could be wrong? Then my stomach rolls up to my throat. What if...?
I’m sitting on the floor of my bathroom, a pregnancy test in my hands. Please, no, please say negative. A little red cruz appears on the test. I breathe a sigh of relief. Not pregnant, not pregnant. But then what’s wrong with me? I sit on the cold tiles, me head between my knees. I hear Rory’s old furgão, van pull up outside. The door creaks open. “Amy?” His voice comes from downstairs. I stay quiet. His soft footsteps pad up the stairs. The door opens. “Amy!” He yells, skidding to my side. “What’s wrong?” He says worriedly, his face creased with concern. “Rory... I... I don’t know what’s wrong. I feel weird. My heads filled with strange things.” I cry, and he puts his arm around me sheepishly. A strong urge to push him away comes over me. What’s wrong with me? I can’t remember anything. I can’t even remember the dia before the party... or the dia before that. I scream. “Do you want me to call a doctor? Wait, I’m a doctor! Doctor...” He trails off. “No! I don’t need any doctor!” the words make me shaky. Maybe I do need a doctor. A doctor. A Doctor... what am I thinking? I’m delirious! I’m sick. I must be. It feels like something is missing. “Amy.” He asks. “What’s wrong?” He looks worried. I push him away and run downstairs, out the door, into the rain. I look around, searching for answers. The block of apartamentos down the rua where my mate Sophie and her husband Craig live. The smashed shed in my backyard. My brain feels like it’s filled with fire. I scream, falling to my knees, clutching my head. All these dull things are hurting me! Why? What’s missing? I look around to the police box on the corner. I stare at it for a long while. “Amy!” Rory runs outside and stops to a jolt beside me, following my pained gaze. “Oh my god.” He stares at the police box, cringing. “Why does it hurt, Rory?” I whisper. The nausea rises, and I run inside to the toilet. What’s wrong with me? What’s missing in my life? What’s so damn important it hurts? I rack my brain. Nothing. “Amy! Stop running away!” Rory rushes in, and holds my face in his hands. “Amy. I’m so sorry.” He whisper’s, putting his forehead to mine in such a familiar fashion that a tear rolls down my cheek. “What for?” I whisper croakily. “Oh... I’m... I’m just sorry you’re sad.” he’s a terrible liar. I can see he’s covering something up. “Rory. Tell me. You know what’s wrong with me.” I croak dryly. “I can’t. Amy, I just can’t. I promised...” He says. “So there is something? Please, Rory! I’m so confused. Promised who?” I cry. “I promised... a friend.” He says, tears forming in his grey eyes. “Who? Who did you promise? And what?” I scream. I want to slap him. What am I thinking? Slapping Rory! “I can’t, Amy!” He yells. A tear slips out. “It feels like something’s missing. I can’t remember anything except you.” I say. “Amy. I want you to tell me something.” He looks deep into my eyes. “Can you remember anything at all when you look at this?” He holds up a little blue figurine. I lean in to see it better. It’s blurred because of the tears in my eyes, but then it focuses. It’s a man, a man who’s obviously made por a child. A little man with a toilet roll for a body. Its painted blue and dark wool is glued onto the polystyrene ball on topo, início of the roll. “No.” I push it out of the way. A tear rolls down Rory’s cheek. He turns around. “Rory? What’s wrong with me?! Should I have remembered something...?” I cry. “Amy. I promised him...” He claps a hand over his mouth. “Him? Who’s him? Is he harassing you?” I scream at him, bewildered. “But I’m going to break that promise. Some things, Amy, are forgotten. But nothing can be gone completely.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper with blue composição literária on it. “Amy. I want you to know before you see this that this is going to change everything for both you and me. It’s going to hurt you. Just like it hurt me.” Tears are in his eyes. He passes me the piece of paper. I give him a confused look, then my eyes trail down to the paper. “I'll never forget, Pond.” It reads. “I don’t understa... oh!” I gasp in pain. My head feels like it’s been ruled over por flames. “Amy! Are you ok?” Rory grabs me to stop me falling over. I can’t answer. My mind is filling with vivid pictures of strange things. A stone angel with a grimace on its face. Pandora’s box, an ominous glow about it. I scream. My brain is on fire. All I can hear is drums. Four drum beats, over and over. “HELP ME, RORY!” I shriek, digging my fingernails into my head. “I can’t! It’s too late!” He yells back. mais visions come. A police box. A police box? That’s why that police box made me feel weird. The police box doors in my head are slowly opening. Is this it? Will this change everything? I realize I’m saying this out loud. “When you see one thing... one person... it’s going to change everything for you and me. I said that knowing that.” He turns away. The police box in my head. It’s doors are open. A person is standing in the doorway, back to me. I squint at the figure in my mind. He turns around. His face is familiar, warm, friendly. He has clear, green eyes, and brown hair jutting out in a quiff from his forehead. He has a blue bowtie on, a tweed jaqueta with elbow patches, and red braces strapping round his skinny shoulders. He waves. I wave back. What? I don’t know this man. This strange looking, handsome, cheeky man in the blue box leans back, letting me through. Then, it happens.
Everything floods back.
The weeping angels. The Pandorica. The Daleks. The Tardis. River Song. The crack in my wall. The fourteen years of pain and loss. And... The Doctor. My raggedy Doctor.
I wake up in a light room. The curtains are drawn wide open. The sun is only inches into the sky, and the light hurts m eyes. I have remembered everything. What happens now? Pretend I’m not in amor with someone else past the bounds of sanity? “Amy?” A soft voice says. “Rory.” I groan. “I’m here, Amy.” Rory says. Who was the first voice? The penny drops. I open my eyes wide enough to see that Doctor is sitting on the end of my bed. “DOCTOR!” I scream, tears running down my cheeks. Tears are running down his cheeks too, they mingle on our cheeks and he strokes my hair. “Amy. I’m glad Rory broke his promise.” He whispers. He looks into my eyes. Then he’s beijar me, his soft lips tasting like salt from our tears, and he pulls me closer. “I thought I’d lost you forever.” He whispers, his hand on the back of my neck, his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. Heaven. “It hurt, Doctor. The visions coming back. My brain felt like it was on fire...” I say. He hugs me. “I know. It’s happened before, with another friend...” He shrugs the thought away. Then I remember Rory. “Where’s Rory?” I ask, and he looks around. “I think he left us alone.” His voice sounds shocked. We walk around the house, until finally I find Rory sitting on the bathroom floor, head in his hands.
I’ve had my shower, and Rory’s gone to work. I’m at home, sitting on my bed. My head’s filled with... nothing. I feel like I’m missing something, a part of me’s missing. I don’t feel sick... just weird. I shake the feeling off, so I go for a walk. I walk down the blue carpeted stairs and out the door into the town of Leadworth. Mr Deralo walks past, his wooden cane clacking on the footpath. “Oh! Hello, Amelia.” He winks, and I smile back. He straightens his bow tie as he walks away. I blink, and shake my head. It’s so cold! I walk to the cafe, past the police box on the corner. I stop. I stare at the box, and Mrs Poggit from up the road walks up from behind me. “Are you alright, Amelia?” She asks, her depthless blue eyes straying from mine. “Yes, thank you, Mrs Poggit.” But as soon as I say that, a small, stupid, traitor tear slides down my cheek. I let out a strangled gasp for no reason. What’s wrong with me? Mrs Poggit strolls away, not wanting to be a part of it. I have a strange feeling about that woman. I go through my mind. What could be wrong? Then my stomach rolls up to my throat. What if...?
I’m sitting on the floor of my bathroom, a pregnancy test in my hands. Please, no, please say negative. A little red cruz appears on the test. I breathe a sigh of relief. Not pregnant, not pregnant. But then what’s wrong with me? I sit on the cold tiles, me head between my knees. I hear Rory’s old furgão, van pull up outside. The door creaks open. “Amy?” His voice comes from downstairs. I stay quiet. His soft footsteps pad up the stairs. The door opens. “Amy!” He yells, skidding to my side. “What’s wrong?” He says worriedly, his face creased with concern. “Rory... I... I don’t know what’s wrong. I feel weird. My heads filled with strange things.” I cry, and he puts his arm around me sheepishly. A strong urge to push him away comes over me. What’s wrong with me? I can’t remember anything. I can’t even remember the dia before the party... or the dia before that. I scream. “Do you want me to call a doctor? Wait, I’m a doctor! Doctor...” He trails off. “No! I don’t need any doctor!” the words make me shaky. Maybe I do need a doctor. A doctor. A Doctor... what am I thinking? I’m delirious! I’m sick. I must be. It feels like something is missing. “Amy.” He asks. “What’s wrong?” He looks worried. I push him away and run downstairs, out the door, into the rain. I look around, searching for answers. The block of apartamentos down the rua where my mate Sophie and her husband Craig live. The smashed shed in my backyard. My brain feels like it’s filled with fire. I scream, falling to my knees, clutching my head. All these dull things are hurting me! Why? What’s missing? I look around to the police box on the corner. I stare at it for a long while. “Amy!” Rory runs outside and stops to a jolt beside me, following my pained gaze. “Oh my god.” He stares at the police box, cringing. “Why does it hurt, Rory?” I whisper. The nausea rises, and I run inside to the toilet. What’s wrong with me? What’s missing in my life? What’s so damn important it hurts? I rack my brain. Nothing. “Amy! Stop running away!” Rory rushes in, and holds my face in his hands. “Amy. I’m so sorry.” He whisper’s, putting his forehead to mine in such a familiar fashion that a tear rolls down my cheek. “What for?” I whisper croakily. “Oh... I’m... I’m just sorry you’re sad.” he’s a terrible liar. I can see he’s covering something up. “Rory. Tell me. You know what’s wrong with me.” I croak dryly. “I can’t. Amy, I just can’t. I promised...” He says. “So there is something? Please, Rory! I’m so confused. Promised who?” I cry. “I promised... a friend.” He says, tears forming in his grey eyes. “Who? Who did you promise? And what?” I scream. I want to slap him. What am I thinking? Slapping Rory! “I can’t, Amy!” He yells. A tear slips out. “It feels like something’s missing. I can’t remember anything except you.” I say. “Amy. I want you to tell me something.” He looks deep into my eyes. “Can you remember anything at all when you look at this?” He holds up a little blue figurine. I lean in to see it better. It’s blurred because of the tears in my eyes, but then it focuses. It’s a man, a man who’s obviously made por a child. A little man with a toilet roll for a body. Its painted blue and dark wool is glued onto the polystyrene ball on topo, início of the roll. “No.” I push it out of the way. A tear rolls down Rory’s cheek. He turns around. “Rory? What’s wrong with me?! Should I have remembered something...?” I cry. “Amy. I promised him...” He claps a hand over his mouth. “Him? Who’s him? Is he harassing you?” I scream at him, bewildered. “But I’m going to break that promise. Some things, Amy, are forgotten. But nothing can be gone completely.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper with blue composição literária on it. “Amy. I want you to know before you see this that this is going to change everything for both you and me. It’s going to hurt you. Just like it hurt me.” Tears are in his eyes. He passes me the piece of paper. I give him a confused look, then my eyes trail down to the paper. “I'll never forget, Pond.” It reads. “I don’t understa... oh!” I gasp in pain. My head feels like it’s been ruled over por flames. “Amy! Are you ok?” Rory grabs me to stop me falling over. I can’t answer. My mind is filling with vivid pictures of strange things. A stone angel with a grimace on its face. Pandora’s box, an ominous glow about it. I scream. My brain is on fire. All I can hear is drums. Four drum beats, over and over. “HELP ME, RORY!” I shriek, digging my fingernails into my head. “I can’t! It’s too late!” He yells back. mais visions come. A police box. A police box? That’s why that police box made me feel weird. The police box doors in my head are slowly opening. Is this it? Will this change everything? I realize I’m saying this out loud. “When you see one thing... one person... it’s going to change everything for you and me. I said that knowing that.” He turns away. The police box in my head. It’s doors are open. A person is standing in the doorway, back to me. I squint at the figure in my mind. He turns around. His face is familiar, warm, friendly. He has clear, green eyes, and brown hair jutting out in a quiff from his forehead. He has a blue bowtie on, a tweed jaqueta with elbow patches, and red braces strapping round his skinny shoulders. He waves. I wave back. What? I don’t know this man. This strange looking, handsome, cheeky man in the blue box leans back, letting me through. Then, it happens.
Everything floods back.
The weeping angels. The Pandorica. The Daleks. The Tardis. River Song. The crack in my wall. The fourteen years of pain and loss. And... The Doctor. My raggedy Doctor.
I wake up in a light room. The curtains are drawn wide open. The sun is only inches into the sky, and the light hurts m eyes. I have remembered everything. What happens now? Pretend I’m not in amor with someone else past the bounds of sanity? “Amy?” A soft voice says. “Rory.” I groan. “I’m here, Amy.” Rory says. Who was the first voice? The penny drops. I open my eyes wide enough to see that Doctor is sitting on the end of my bed. “DOCTOR!” I scream, tears running down my cheeks. Tears are running down his cheeks too, they mingle on our cheeks and he strokes my hair. “Amy. I’m glad Rory broke his promise.” He whispers. He looks into my eyes. Then he’s beijar me, his soft lips tasting like salt from our tears, and he pulls me closer. “I thought I’d lost you forever.” He whispers, his hand on the back of my neck, his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. Heaven. “It hurt, Doctor. The visions coming back. My brain felt like it was on fire...” I say. He hugs me. “I know. It’s happened before, with another friend...” He shrugs the thought away. Then I remember Rory. “Where’s Rory?” I ask, and he looks around. “I think he left us alone.” His voice sounds shocked. We walk around the house, until finally I find Rory sitting on the bathroom floor, head in his hands.
