The Girl of Time (Doctor Who Fan-fiction)

Chapter 1: Me

Note: I expect you have at least a little bit of knowledge about Doctor Who. That in mind, I mention certain things from Doctor Who without going into too much detail. (Most of it you only need to have watched one or two episodes to know.) Also, I do not own Doctor Who or any of it's characters. Doctor Who is owned by BBC. However, all other characters are my own.

Hello!

Now listen, I get this is an author's note, and you will probably never read these. I get it. I really do. Why listen to me, when you can easily skip this and go right into the story right? But, if you do read this, you might get some important information. Not saying you will...but you might. Any who, this is going to be a Doctor Who fan fiction (obviously). I am going to try to make this as different and creative as possible so bare with me! Oh, and this is NOT a romance novel. As in, no falling in love, no crushes, no "I think I like him", none of that. The characters will have no more than a very good friendship (the only acceptation would be if two characters from Doctor Who actually have a canon relationship.) As I said, I'm trying to make this different. This first chapter is just to get to know the main character better, so I would recommend reading the chapter after this one before deciding whether you like this book or not. This book does go quite a while without the Doctor, so if you happen to have a really short attention span, you can skip to chapter ten to speed things up. Just know, you will be confused. I hope you enjoy!

-Izzy

~🌺~

I have probably spent more than half my life on the swing of the old oak tree. It's as far away from the house as you can get without leaving the yard, so people tend to leave me alone. It's not much, just a chipped block of wood attached to a dying branch, but it works just the same.

Man, I just love that tree. He reminds me so much of myself. We don't seem to change. If you left, and came back five years later, I don't think things would be much different. We would both still be down there, enjoying each other's silent company.

I'm told almost daily that if I would run around and play like the other children and just "act normal" I would have a much better chance of people liking me. Yet no matter how hard I try to explain myself, people just can't seem to get past my flaws, even when they know I can't do anything about them. People bug me.

My name's Brielle, in case you were dying to know. The few people that are forced to be in my presence call me Bree. Personally, I've always preferred Bree over Brielle. It's not that I hate the name Brielle, it's the fact that I don't look like someone named Brielle. You know how some people's names just sort of perfectly fit their personality? Yeah, let's just say, it doesn't work for everyone.

It's okay though, because my name is pretty much the only thing that's mine. I'm constantly reminded that the home I live in, the bed I sleep in, and everything else is not mine, nor will it ever be. My life is literally on hold, and by now I'm starting to wonder if it will stay this way indefinitely.

And I'm sorry, I've just realized how lost you must be. I live in a foster home, if that clears up any confusion. I've always lived in a small house out in the middle of nowhere that's owned by a husband and wife. It may not sound that bad, but when you add the ten to twenty other screaming children who also live here, and the fact that the foster parents are middle aged, frown line ridden grumps who know a thing or two about making a child cry, it makes one feel compelled to avoid all human interaction when possible.

It's not like people are forcing me to be social. Another one of "Bree's rules" is that I'm not really supposed to form relationships with the other children because one day, they're going to get adopted or transferred and we will never see each other again. And "Why start something when you know it's not going to last?" But I noticed nothing lasts forever, not really. Not in real life. I'm sure that realization scares most people, yet it gave me comfort. I think it's the only reason I get out of bed in the morning. Something's got to change eventually, right?