 |
 |
Charles Dickens was now so full of joy, how
could it be that just a few hours ago he was so miserable? A miserable
old writer, hating his miserable life. He now looked at life as if
through a new pair of eyes. He felt like a cog in a machine. Perhaps not
a particularly valuable cog, but he had to be there for the machine to
work.
“Yippee,” he yelled as he ran down the street, leaping with joy. He was
so happy, and he would finish the Mystery of Edwin Drood as soon as he
could so he could write his next story – The Séance of Death, in which
he would be the main character - completely true, with the Doctor and
Miss Tyler involved in it as well. Ah, such a good story it would be.
But first, he thought to himself, he had to sort out the problems with
his family. He smiled and was about to walk on when hen saw something
odd out of the corner of his eye. He turned back, following in his gaze
a trail of light. It was leading back to Sneed and Company, the place
from which he had just left. Still buzzing, he channeled his energy into
his curiosity and decided to investigate further.
He ran through the snow-laden street, thinking of the danger in a more
exhilarating way than he had before. Charles Dickens’ name might one day
be recognised as a great hero of his time, he pondered.
He arrived at the building, still slightly ablaze. He went over,
searching wildly for the source. Then he found her body. That poor young
girl. Her eyes were still open. He put his hand over her eyes and closed
them, and as he did so, one of his tears fell on her pale cheek. That
poor young girl, dying to save a future she could never see, he thought
to himself. He stood back up, wiped the tears away and took a deep
breath. He surveyed the scene one last time and as he did so, he noticed
a shadowy figure in the corner of the room, leaving through a door. The
figure had looked like some kind of predator of the night, almost
wolf-like, a bad wolf. So many displaced thoughts filled his head. But
he decided not to pursue this particular mystery, for this mystery was
not his to solve…
The Doctor and Rose looked at the screen, watching as events unfolded.
The Doctor tried to give a smile, but Rose saw through it as she always
would. He was as unsettled as she was. She thought to herself about
leaving him, but it was obvious that he needed someone just as much as
she did.
Rose loved travelling with him. The thrill of the adventures, the love
for life, the not knowing what would happen next. She wondered where he
would take them now. The Doctor seemed to read her mind and said, “Rome,
24908. Great year, we can see the rise of the automaton race leading the
second Roman Empire into glory across the stars. Sound nice?”
He didn’t wait for a reply and turned to the console. Pulling levers,
flicking switches and focusing entirely on what he was doing. He didn’t
notice Rose leave the console room, down a corridor and into the TARDIS’
vast and complex infrastructure...
Rose sat on the bed in her new room, looking at objects the Doctor had
shown her. She thought of Mickey and how she had left him behind. Was it
unfair? Or would the time apart help them? She pondered many things
before returning to the Doctor and smiling. Everything would be fine. He
smiled back, this time truthfully. She held his hand as they travelled
through the vortex - onwards, and never looking back…
© Copyright Mark Joselin, Simon Breeze & Doctor Who Online, 2012.
|
|
|
Written by:
Mark Joselin
Artwork by:
Simon Breeze
Narration & Music by:
Siobhan Gallichan
|
|
