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Oct. 1st, 2008 10:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dreamer_easySecond part of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
outsdr's fic request (part one here). The voice here was a bitch to get. Thank goodness for Doctor Who Transcripts 2005+! Set after the end of S4, so beware SPOILERS.
When I was little, I remember keeping my eyes squeezed shut in bed, just in case I opened them and saw another pair of eyes staring back at me in the dark.
Instincts are stupid, aren't they? Like when a dog bites the vet, because it doesn't understand, it just knows that it's scared. Hasn't got a plan. The only idea it's got is to run away.
I'm just getting tired and tired and the money's running out. I need to stop and try to think.
Can't stop, I just can't. Every time I try to stay put somewhere for a minute and catch my breath, it feels like there's a monster right behind me, just looking over my shoulder. Something old, like a dinosaur from a movie, something wrong. I know if I turn around, I'll see it, it'll grab me, and that'll be it.
What day is it? I have to look at the boarding pass to find out. Saturday. Everything was normal just one week ago, just completely ordinary same old same old. Then suddenly I'm at Heathrow, buying the first ticket to anywhere.
Mum says I'm out of my mind and she's probably right. She says the agency called and I've lost my job. She says Grandad's off his trolley with worry. She says this isn't like me at all, running away from something instead of shouting at it. She says I've just eaten something I shouldn't have, like when Veena got sloshed on Lambrusco on her birthday and thought the shop window dummies were coming to get her. She says where am I, but I won't tell her, the words just jam up in my mouth. She sighs and says I should come home and see a, and then she stops, and I say see a what, and she says, um, I just think you should talk to somebody.
Does she really think shouting at a monster will do any good? I remember she thought the thing about the eyes was hilarious.
Ohhh, when are they going to let us on? I'm getting that feeling again, I'm being watched. The monster's right behind me, breathing down my neck. I'm never going to get away from it, am I? Oh my God, I'm carrying it around with me, like luggage, aren't I?
I jump up in a bit of a panic and, suddenly, there's this tiny dark-haired woman in front of me, taking off her dark glasses. She looks about fifty and her eyes look about seven hundred.
'Donna Noble?' she asks.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The monster is suddenly, royally pissed off. The monster says something, in fact it shouts and everyone looks, only it's talking in my voice: 'Don't tell me. Don't say a flipping word. Just get me the hell out of here.'
outsdr's fic request (part one here). The voice here was a bitch to get. Thank goodness for Doctor Who Transcripts 2005+! Set after the end of S4, so beware SPOILERS.When I was little, I remember keeping my eyes squeezed shut in bed, just in case I opened them and saw another pair of eyes staring back at me in the dark.
Instincts are stupid, aren't they? Like when a dog bites the vet, because it doesn't understand, it just knows that it's scared. Hasn't got a plan. The only idea it's got is to run away.
I'm just getting tired and tired and the money's running out. I need to stop and try to think.
Can't stop, I just can't. Every time I try to stay put somewhere for a minute and catch my breath, it feels like there's a monster right behind me, just looking over my shoulder. Something old, like a dinosaur from a movie, something wrong. I know if I turn around, I'll see it, it'll grab me, and that'll be it.
What day is it? I have to look at the boarding pass to find out. Saturday. Everything was normal just one week ago, just completely ordinary same old same old. Then suddenly I'm at Heathrow, buying the first ticket to anywhere.
Mum says I'm out of my mind and she's probably right. She says the agency called and I've lost my job. She says Grandad's off his trolley with worry. She says this isn't like me at all, running away from something instead of shouting at it. She says I've just eaten something I shouldn't have, like when Veena got sloshed on Lambrusco on her birthday and thought the shop window dummies were coming to get her. She says where am I, but I won't tell her, the words just jam up in my mouth. She sighs and says I should come home and see a, and then she stops, and I say see a what, and she says, um, I just think you should talk to somebody.
Does she really think shouting at a monster will do any good? I remember she thought the thing about the eyes was hilarious.
Ohhh, when are they going to let us on? I'm getting that feeling again, I'm being watched. The monster's right behind me, breathing down my neck. I'm never going to get away from it, am I? Oh my God, I'm carrying it around with me, like luggage, aren't I?
I jump up in a bit of a panic and, suddenly, there's this tiny dark-haired woman in front of me, taking off her dark glasses. She looks about fifty and her eyes look about seven hundred.
'Donna Noble?' she asks.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The monster is suddenly, royally pissed off. The monster says something, in fact it shouts and everyone looks, only it's talking in my voice: 'Don't tell me. Don't say a flipping word. Just get me the hell out of here.'
