For months after, I was bombarded by people with cameras and microphones, and sometimes even with handcuffs, all asking me questions like "Miss Pond, how close were you to Melody?" or "Amy! How did you feel when you were facing the Angel?" or "You do know that facing an Angel is considered attempted suicide, right, Miss Pond? We're going to have to take you to a place that you can't harm yourself or others." That was a hard question to answer. But seriously? For about two years, my life was a living hell. I had lost my husband and my child, and the Doctor had disappeared, coming only briefly to break me out of the mental institution. I've heard that he regenerated, but I can't believe it. He'd come back. I'd save him, or at least comfort him and be there for the new Doctor. Although, I doubt that I can even do that. I wasn't there when Mel needed me, and so I paid the price.
I hate the price.
I want my daughter back. I want my Mel back. I want to see her curly hair and feel her soft hands and hear her criticize the Doctor's choice of hats. I want us to be one big, happy family that we were before we faced the Angels and tore my life to shreds. All I want is my daughter back.
But having the Doctor back would be nice, too.