Another OC fic? NOOOOOO!

Mwahahahaha. Loving your torture.

This will NOT be a romantic fic. Nope. No, sir. Interesting, no?

Enjoy…or not.

-JustStandingHere

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I really do not know how to start these things off.

First of all, I've got to choose a tense. That, my friend…or rather, random stranger, is very complicated. Usually I would pick past tense, seeing as all of these events have already occurred to me. However, one's past might be another's future, and another's future might be another's past…so I believe that I'll do present tense. Yes, present tense sounds good. It's all "here I am, take me or leave me". Then again, the present really isn't the present, is it? At least not for me. For you, these events are playing out right before your eyes. Huh, I never thought about that. Then again, recently my mind been all over the place, so—

Damn it, I'm rambling. He's rubbed off on me too much.

So yes, I'll try to put together the best of my memories to give you how I felt the exact moment these events happened. Mind you, they won't be picture-perfect. A quarter of the time I've been knocked out, so not everything is going to make complete sense. But trust me, okay? I've only got a good week or two, at the most, before this journey ends.

A good week or two before I say goodbye to my best friend. I'll probably never see him again.

No, you idiot, he's not going to die. I know that. I know everything that's going to happen to him. And if all goes well, there'll be no more adventures with me in the equation. Sure, he might pop in from time to time, but who knows how long that's going to take for me?

Ironically, the moron doesn't have the best sense of timing. A week for him could be twenty years for me, and who knows where I'll be then? I might be dead, or married with children and therefore too loaded with responsibilities to even given him a "hello".

So I've decided to keep a recorded log of my adventures with him, when I have the time to talk. I'm warning you, I'm not going to hold back. Yes, that means even if it's you who's listening to this, I'm not going to sugarcoat my opinions of you. The truth needs to come out.

I only hope that, if it is you, it's after all the shit you have to deal with is done, and during that short period that you had a slight bit of peace before throwing yourself back into trouble again. I don't want to spoil anything for you. It can be very dangerous to mess with the canon storyline, or "the established time stream", as you call it.

Lucky enough, I think the friend who's recording this is on my side. Call me vain, but I think the TARDIS has finally warmed up to me. She's not intentionally messing up my breakfast or leading me down the wrong hall anymore. But maybe she's just being nice because she knows I'm going to be leaving soon. Anyways, I think we've gained enough trust in each other that she won't show her thief this until the time is right. Like or not like, she knows better than anyone not to mess with the time streams.

So, whoever is listening to this, whether you know me or not, I hope you're prepared. This will either make perfect sense or make me sound like I need to be placed in a white fluffy room.

My name is Jenna Quigley. Biologically, I am fifteen years old. I'm saying biologically, because who knows how old I'm supposed to be where we land. I may be five billion and aqua years old or -3,000. But, according to the books on human biology, I have been existing for fifteen straight years.

Descriptions are always stereotypical, or at least to me they are. It's always "Well, I have this type of hair and these eyes." No. I am not going to give you a description, at least not all at once. Over time, sure. But I do not want to sound like a Facebook profile.

Currently, before I start off telling this story that will most likely turns into a children's novel or my reputation's demise, I am sitting in the console room, underneath the glass floor. He can't hear anything down here, and I've practically made this place my room since I stopped getting shocked by the wires. I even set up a hammock, Oswin Oswald style.

Crap. If it's you who's listening to this, just leave that reference alone, okay? Though I'm sort of looking like her right now: lying in the hammock, talking into a recorder. Sure, the recorder is actually a voice log programmed into the TARDIS, and not a traditional recorder, but the image is pretty similar. Hopefully the conditions aren't same, though. I would rather not have my life be a lie, thank you very much.

Because these last couple of months (or weeks, or years…it's hard to tell) have been the best I've ever had in my life, and also the worst. It's a huge mess of emotions. Sometimes we've been having fun, then I've nearly died, and then there was that one instance when I skipped ahead of him and I'd been missing for a good amount of time...it's complicated, okay? To quote the one who's dancing up above me (Yes, you, it's dancing. And twirling. Not piloting.), "It's a big ball of wibbley-wobbley, timey-whimey…stuff."

Let me just say that I was thrown off guard. I never expected for my life to turn into something I thought was fiction. Or, now that I'm thinking about it, fan fiction. Dear God, am I a Mary Sue? Probably.

Anyways, I'm going off topic. But let me just say it was the biggest form of culture shock I believe any of the universes that are out there have ever seen. Or would it be called different dimension shock? Damn it, I've gone off topic again. I swear he's rubbed off on me too much. I've even gained a slight accent.

He's truly an amazing man, the Doctor. Amazing because he most certainly isn't perfect, and I have proof of that. But he's been trying so hard to be human when he really isn't, and after travelling with him for a while you begin to see how hard he works to keep at it. I see how worried he is about what's coming for him, and it's kind of fascinating. He doesn't show it most of the time, but you know he's running. He does a lot of running, doesn't he?

Part of me wants to tell him that it'll be alright. That he'll be awesome and figure out a way to cheat destiny. That everything will be alright, and the running will stop soon. He has nothing to fear. But I can't. He still thinks he's going to die. And he will, sort of, in a good week or two.

And I'll have to be gone by then.

So, before the inevitable goodbye, I am going to tell you a story. A story about a young girl who got put out of place. A girl that has a man with a travelling phone booth as one of her greatest friends. A naïve girl, a stupid girl. Stupid because she decided to run alongside the man who never stops to look back. Naïve because she thought everything would be fun and games. A girl that, ultimately, almost tore apart reality by simply existing somewhere else.

So let's begin, shall we?

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So good? Not good? It's only an introduction, so the real story will start very soon.

Review, please! I need the criticism!

-JustStandingHere