The Girl of Time (Doctor Who Fan-fiction)

Chapter 40

"During the years that I was human, I used to think everything was either black or white. There was no such thing as gray.

"You were either happy, or sad.

"You were trustworthy, or you weren't.

"You were a good person, or you were bad.

"I truly believed life was that way because for me, it was true. In my eyes, there was no in-between.

"But then the illusion ended and I grew up. I grew up in the sense that...I learned life isn't that simple. Turns out there are twists and turns around every corner and nothing is safe. There is nowhere to run. The fact that we all walk around and function on a normal basis amazes me. Because everything is so gray. And honestly, it horrifies me." I glance down at a lopsided sapling proudly waving its tiny leaves in the warm breeze. This is the little stick that will one day become my oak tree.

"Hmph, black and white. One or the other. I could use some of that in my life right about now," I sigh, slumping down in a heap next to the sapling. I take a second to listen to the wind flow through the currently empty field. Apparently, the foster house wasn't built until 1977, so all I had to do was jump a few years back and now I can do whatever I want while staying out of the public eye.

"What is this, 1974? Yeah...neat. So what happens. There's the whole ordeal with Nixon. That's something. And then...there was some other stuff, I guess. I don't know, it sort of gets all jumbled together. Like this. This is the first time you've met me. Yet this'll be the last time I see you. This happened to a friend of mine once. Not with a tree, of course. No, he had it much worse." I sit up suddenly and shake my head, laughing. "I really am having a deep conversation with a tree, huh? That's okay, I've done worse. Oh, whoops, look at the time! Procrastination, horrible habit. Anyway, I gotta ask a huge favor," I pick up the shovel I brought with me, forcefully stabbing it into the ground. "Gotta admit, it's a little awkward."

~🌺~

"This is it. This is where I die," I whine, dramatically sprawling out into the dry, crispy grass. "I am seriously melting. How do you sit out here all day?" I cry, staring at the oak sapling I had carefully unearthed from the ground.

"That is nearly four feet deep. How much farther down could this be? Unless..." I don't even want to consider the chance that I'm wrong, and I wasted digging a hole in the blazing sun for nothing. No. If I'm wrong, things are going to get ugly.

"This isn't fun anymore," I moan. I tightly grip the shovel, and stick it into the cold earth again, scooping up a handful of dirt and tossing it to the side. I do it again. And again.

Scoop.

Toss.

Scoop.

Toss.

Scoop.

Toss.

Thud.

Wait, that's just a rock.

Scoop.

Toss.

Scoop.

Toss.

Scoop.

Toss.

Clank.

Slowly, I look up to the sky and mouth thank you to whoever's watching. I scrape off a thin layer of dirt revealing a shiny white container the size of a small laptop. So, I either found what I was looking for, or I'm possibly digging up a dead cat.