Title: How I Lost My Mind

Summary: The diary of Koschei (or the Master) as he grew up in the Academy, facing the drums, meeting Theta, falling in love, loss... All of it.

Author's Note: The idea for this just sort of hit me earlier on today and I had to write it. Some chapters of this might be quite short, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Also, a little promo, I'll be posting links to this story from my tumblr and if you'd like to follow me, I can be found at .

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who BBC.

Wednesday 14th May 1228GRT (Gallifreyan Relative Time)

I should call this "The Diary of A Lunatic" or something like that. Or maybe, maybe "How I Lost My Mind". That would be more fitting than whatever the Academy counsellor wanted me to call this... my journal... my "feeling log" or whatever. Ha. That's so stupid. I don't like writing about my feelings. I don't even like talking about my feelings. Why the hell would I want to write them down?

I don't even know how to start writing this. It feels stupid. Haha, I guess that's fitting then. Apparently I'm pretty stupid anyway. That was the first think my Dad told me when he spoke to me after what happened today. Then again, that's nothing new, is it? Not that'd you'd know. Oh! Look at that. I'm calling a spare blue Planet-Earth-style (hence the human-ish dates. It's disgusting. Not my choice.) diary from store "you" like it has a personality? Like it has feelings... Ha, maybe I am insane after all.

... I don't want that though. I'm not insane. I'm not!

This stupid book is meant to make me feel more in control of my emotions. I don't honestly think it'll work. Nothing works. "Write your feelings down," the counsellor said. "It'll help." Will it really? Will it? Is writing down "My name is Koschei and today I feel very sad," really going to make me feel any better? No. I didn't think so.

Thing is... They said if I don't sort myself out, I'm risking my place at the Academy. Maybe I should try this stupid journal... Do what they asked. Humour them. If only so I graduate.

They don't understand though. It's so difficult. The drums... THEY don't have to live with the constant noise in their head! They don't have to put up with it. It's always there, the drumming. Ever since I was eight... And it hurts and...

I got into a fight today.

I couldn't help it. I couldn't think. A guy, I don't know his name but he's a few years above me, was laughing at me, calling me names, mocking my family... I told him to shut up. But he kept trying to get a reaction from me and he hit me first and the drums... It's like, when I'm out of control, there they are - making me fight back.

I told him to back off or I'd hit him. But he didn't. He thought it was funny and kept pushing and pushing and I couldn't not fight back. I didn't mean to hit him so hard – I honestly didn't. The smug idiot deserved it though, but I shouldn't have done it...

So now I'm in trouble and was forced to see the Academy counsellor. And that's why I have this stupid book. At least when I... No, no if I finally go insane, they'll be able to read what went through my mind before that. That'll be nice for them. Hah, maybe I might keep up with this journal. It's not like anyone else will listen to me properly... Maybe they'll understand later on. When it's too late.