CAROL SPRING ~ A DOCTOR WHO FANFICTION

Written by Creek Hymn

I'm Carol Spring. I'm 12 years old and I live in an orphanage – I'm not an orphan, though. I don't have any real proof, but I just know that they're there – my parents, that is – somewhere out there in the world.
Sometimes, I wonder if they're even out there in the world. I mean, the world is one tiny cell of our galaxy, and our galaxy is but a particle of dust floating around in the universe. Who says that they have to be here, on boring old earth? They could be anywhere in outer space…
Anyway, getting a little off topic. Like I said, my name's Carol. I don't know that because I remember my parents calling me that or anything, but when I was a baby, they left me on the doorstep of this orphanage. How original. They left a note with me that said, "Carol Spring". So, the orphanage workers assumed that was meant to be my name, and here I am. I think my name is about the only thing I agree on with the orphanage.
They keep telling me I was found here as a baby and I shouldn't have any memories of my parents, because my brain wasn't developed enough yet to be able to remember anything. Pff, obviously! I'm not an idiot. In fact, I haven't even failed anything in school – I don't think I've ever even gotten less than a C. Anyway, I'm getting off topic again. Contrary to what they think is possible, I do remember things. I don't know exactly what they are, and maybe I'm just remembering dreams from when I was little or something – you know how your little-kid mind can mix dreams up with reality…but somehow, I can feel that they're more than simply dreams. Besides, a simple answer like that is so unsatisfying!
My eyes are blue, though people have said that they suddenly saw them turn green, and then blue again. At first I thought they were just teasing me, because I tend to imagine things and daydream a lot (how I manage to get the grades that I do, I haven't got a clue) so I thought they were poking fun at that. But there was this one time when I was about 9…the lady that comes in just before 9:30pm to make sure we're going to sleep came in, and I suddenly had this vivid memory of a green light. For that moment, all I could see was that shiny stick with the glowing green light at the end, and all I could hear was a whirring sound. When it was gone, the lady had this strange look on her face, and she was just staring at my eyes, as if they had popped out and started square dancing on my face.
…What part of my mind did a metaphor like that come from? I think I'm starting to see why they call me the Dreamer now. Oh, did I forget to mention that? Sorry…anyway, the other kids have nicknamed me "the Dreamer". I think some of the kids don't even know my real name – but then again, maybe I don't even know my real name for sure.
But, anyway, that wasn't the only time I had a strange vision like that. I can't count how many times, in fact, but it hasn't always been that green light. Sometimes, it's a blue box that I can hear making this grinding, scraping sort of noise that fades in and out as the box does. My memory isn't clear enough to remember exactly, but I'm almost absolutely sure there are words on it; big white lit-up letters outlined with black plastic. Speaking of lights, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure the blue box has a light on top of it, too. Anyway…that's not really relevant. Usually my visions are of that blue box and the silver stick with a green light, but some other things I've seen are - no, that can't be right.
I guess I never really thought about it before, but now that I do, the only other things that I get visions about are…
…bow ties.
…And that strange red hat. What was that called again? Not a fedora, but…oh yeah, a fez! To be honest, I kind of think bow ties and fezzes are…well…cool.
Okay, so now you generally know who I am – a daydreamer with colour-changing eyes that gets visions about shiny things, blue boxes, bow ties, and strange hats. That's me alright, but there's much more to me than that.
Indeed, I am a daydreamer with colour-changing eyes that gets visions about shiny things, blue boxes, bow ties, and strange hats, but not only that; I'm a daydreamer with colour-changing eyes that gets visions about shiny things, blue boxes, bow ties, and strange hats with a habit of trying to escape where I live and I have a cat!
That's right. There's this stray cat – black with white speckles – that I call Milky-Way. Every day before we – us kids in the orphanage – go to sleep, I ask them to bring me a warm glass of milk. I leave it on my windowsill for Milky-Way. Depending on what time I get up, sometimes I'll see her there at the windowsill and pet her for a bit. Usually, though, I'm in a hurry and have to leave her alone outside.
I've tried to escape the orphanage so many times. I can't count exactly how many times anymore, but my guess would be at least 4 or 5 times. I hate this place, and I know I'm not an orphan – so what the heck is the point of living in an orphanage? It's like a lifeguard working in the library.
I never know exactly where I'm even going when I escape, and I think that's my problem. I never decide where to go, so I just end up in some back alley where the police find me and take me back. I've been thinking since the last time I tried to escape, though, which was about a year ago now, and I think I finally have a reason to want to go. Sure, this is many orphans' fantasy, but hardly any of them actually pursue it – I want to find my parents. Most of the orphans I know tell me that they would do anything to know their parents, but I can tell that's a huge exaggeration – they've never done a single thing to find out about their parents or escape the orphanage like I have. They ask themselves where their parents are, who their parents are, why they were left behind…But I ask myself this: Where in the universe are my parents? What do they do, wherever they are? Build spaceships? Explore planets? Or something far simpler, like working in an ordinary office on ordinary Earth? And finally…why me? Why do I have these strange memories, if that's even what they are? Why did they leave me here? Why is it me that is so clever that my teachers think I don't even need to go to school, and haven't ever needed to? Why?
Well…mom, dad, wherever you are, out there, I will answer all those questions for myself some day…and maybe that day won't be quite as far away as it may seem.