Daughter Who (Preview)-- What follows is a preview made of the first chapter of the story written for the OC Annabela Christie in the world of Dr. Who. More information on the comment section --Part 1: The memory that wouldn't die.The world was green. Her shy 12 year old eyes blinked and it then twisted and morphed, the sun turned red and then blue. The air was heavy and she was surrounded by weird machinery in the form of floors and ceiling and walls as far as the horizon could reach, all pulsing with a purplish tint, all dark as night. Her sleepy head then thought the sun was just a big light-bulb in the ceiling, a far away ceiling, as far as the sky.And then a growl made her blink, looking aside at a monstrous being. It was approaching her at a fast pace but her wavering heart caught in the throat with such fright she couldn't even scream.Every alarm system her organism could muster immediately went haywire, waking her up into a state where she was sure she wasn't dreaming. And then fear gripp
Always dreamed, now believe.Hopefully dreaming of the day never coming, through lies and deceit saying all would amount to something; lies I saw through, and disguises unbecoming, of the man I dreamed to see, looking back at me, through the looking glass
Heart unknowingly numbing, across choices and effort and hard work to do something, with the eyes set on ground that is dead: on nothing.It lives and flickers again, satisfied, sick of compromise. Chin up, eyes front, chest filled with heart stumped
at hope renewed and faith reliving, energy up, soul dreaming livid!The kid's dreams are mine again.Resurrected, they're alive again.
The Flame in the NightFlickering fluttering lives the candle, till its mind's content and brings heart's demise, it flickers and flutters in the night. All alone, in the night.Left by heat, left by wind, left by friends and left by fiend. No hope, no end in sight, no pause of relief, except for when it dies. And still the wax burns, and the flame flickers bright, 'till the end comes nigh, as a horrible surprise.It knows it's without purpose, that no one's sharing the light, but it can't stop burning, it's how it's alive!All alone, in the night. Abandoned without a fight.Suffering and dying, it's how it's alive. For other people's sake, but there's no one in sight.What slight, the flame would know, for its nature to have the might, to carry on in the night.All alone in the night.All alone.In the dark, lonely night.