I stand there, frozen stiff, unable to move. I don't recognise the voice that called my name, but what scares me even more is that it sounds like they recognise me.
"Jenny, that is you, isn't it?"
I don't make any effort to turn around. This person, judging by the voice it's male, obviously knows me from my forgotten past and I'm not sure I want to know it. All of those sessions were pointless, not because I can't stand them, which I can't, but because I really don't want to remember. I'm doing everything I can not to remember and here comes this guy who could ruin everything. There must be a reason I forgot and what if what this man tells me about my past is horrible and unbearable. What if I'm a murder, or alone in the world, or I'm a clone and programmed to kill. I'm not sure if I want to know something like that.
A strong breeze blew my favourite scarf off my shoulders. I started to turn around, to reach for it, when I remembered the man behind me, and turn back.
"Jenny, turn around"
He has a habit of saying my name and he undoubtedly has my scarf. Sighing, I turn around and face the man that just would not leave me alone. Being around twenty centimetres taller than me and only a few meters away I had to crane my head up just slightly to have a proper view of his face. His thick curly, ash grey hair had a few centimetres in length. His face was in a rectangular shape with beady eyes, a narrow nose and a thin mouth. If I had to guess his age, I would say around mid-fifties. He wore a dark navy coat, ending half way down his thighs, with a red velvet lining. Underneath he wore a cardigan and trousers that were of a similar navy colour as the coat as well as a simple white cotton shirt. On his feet wore what looked to be leather doc martins, if I'm thinking of the right fashion trend. After assessing him from head to toe I realised he was doing the same. It was clear that he wasn't going to speak, so I did.
"Can I have my scarf back" I ask, reaching towards him, with my palm open.
He silently gives me my scarf back, still staring at me. It's like he can't believe I'm standing right in front of him. After a few more minutes, he takes a step towards him. I take a step back.
"It's really you,"
"Do I know you?"
"It's me, the Doctor"
"You don't recognise me? Well, not with this face, you wouldn't"
As he continued to talk I realised he had a Scottish accent but that had nothing to do with the fact that the words he spoke made absolutely no sense. "This face? What on earth are you talking about? Wait, did you say you're a doctor? Are you another therapist? Aaaaargh, when will they stop?" I said throwing my hands in the air.
"Therapist? No, I'm not a therapist. You really don't remember me, do you?"
"Wait so you're not a therapist, then who are you and how do you know my name?"
"I'm the doctor, don't you remember me, or the Hath, or the new world,"
"And you died, but clearly you didn't" he continued waving his hands at me
"What are you rambling on about? I died?!? And who or what are the Hath?!?
He goes quiet and then looks behind me, at the police box I think.
"Ah I'm sorry, I've got to go" he starts walking around me, towards the police box.
I start walking away when he calls out my name and I spin back around.
"I'll be back soon, because even though you don't remember me we do know each other"
He pauses for just a moment before saying
"And I'm not going to lose you again"