It's Just A Box.

Daisy is just your typical 19 year old. That is, until she decides to take pictures of a police box from the 1960's for her history project. She also decides to step inside, but what she sees is most certainly not from the 1960's.


1. The Perfect Picture

        "That's it!" I exclaimed to myself as I ran over to the giant blue box, labeled 'Police Public Call Box' in white letters on the top bar and 'Bad Wolf' sprayed onto the side with white paint. I quickly got on one knee and began to take pictures at different angles on my camera, then I stood up.


        "Now what's in it?" I mumbled to myself as I walked towards the door. I pulled the faded blue door open, and what I saw was most certainly too big to fit in the tiny space. My jaw dropped as I was horrifyingly confused. A large, circular, console type thing was the center of my attention, covered in knobs and buttons and switches and levers and- well, everything. My eyes soon shifted to a large tube, coming from the middle of the console. There were lights inside, flashing between green and blue. I was quick to snap a picture when I soon realised I wasn't the only one in the room.


       "Who are you?" A tall man, maybe in his late twenties-early thirties stared at me with a glare spread across his face. I put my hands to my chest and sputtered out words.


      "Me? Oh- I- You-"  I couldn't find the right words. "Sorry." I finally mumbled. The man walked towards me. 


      "You never answered my question," He stepped closer and closer with every word. "Who. Are. You?" I looked down at his shoes. White- well, used to be white- converse. I followed the brown pinstriped suit all the way up to his head, a good 6 inches above my own, and stared at him. 


      "I'm Daisy." I suddenly wasn't afraid to speak. "Daisy McGee." I held out my hand and the man reluctantly grasped it and shook. "You are?"


      "Daisy?" The man began. I quickly nodded and he let go of my hand. "Well, Daisy. I don't mean to be rude, but you must leave now."


      "You never answered my question," I said, mimicking his tone from earlier. "What's your name?" I repeated myself.


      "I'm the Doctor."


      "Doctor Who?'


       "Ah, that's a very dangerous question, My dear Daisy." And with that, a loud creaking sound emitted from another room. "No, No, No!" The Doctor ran off to the other room and I was left to explore.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...