A/N: I made this off of the top of my head. I don't know if I'll add more or not.

Dear Doctor,

I do hope no one finds this letter before you do. But I guess someone might have to for you to ever receive it. I know now that somehow you received my previous letter, although I'm not sure how.

Here are the answers to the questions you asked me.

1. Yes, I do remember promising I will never speak to you again. But in my defense, this isn't exactly speaking.

2. Yes, I know I promised to meet you in 2011 at the top of the tower, but in my defense, they wouldn't allow me in.

3. Yes, I know I promised to buy you a banana, but I'm broke.

4. No, you're the exception.

Do you remember when we first met? I don't think you would. Who knows how many adventures you've been on since then, but I want to remind you.

I was young, quite young. Only fourteen. I woke up one morning to the most peculiar sound. That's what I remember most, the sound. The most beautiful, and yet terrible sound in the world. Other people haven't described it that way. They've described it as being like the wind. I suppose that's what it could be. It sounded like screaming to me. The sound of sadness.

I woke up and looked out my bedroom window and saw your little blue box. I never asked you what you were doing here. I suppose that was one of the many mistakes I made. And I saw you step out. You were alone. The first time I saw you, you were alone. You looked to the sky. You looked right, left, then you saw me, and your eyes widened.

"Why hello," you said, "I'm The Doctor!"

"What are you doing in my yard?" I was rude, wasn't I?

You frowned, "That's a little rude. I was just taking a walk."

"A walk inside a blue box? You ain't making any sense," Rude again.

"What's your name?" you asked me.

"Martha," I said proudly.

"I once had a friend Martha," you looked away again.

"And you're The Doctor? Really though? Doctor who?"

"Exactly!" you grinned, "You call me The Doctor."

"Right," I said, "Doctor."

"Have you seen anything strange around here?" you asked.

"Other than you? Not really."

"'Not really'?" you said, "What's that supposed the mean, 'not really'?"

"That means 'No.' Gosh, don't you know anything?"

"I know more than you."

"I'm sure," I was a bit sarcastic, I don't think you noticed.

"Good! Tell me, Martha, do you believe in aliens?"

"Why Doctor," I still said your name mockingly, "Do you?"

"Of course I do," you said, "I am one."

"Uh-huh," I nodded, "Well martian-"

"I am not from Mars!"

"Then where are you from?"

"Gallifrey."

"And what's your species?"

"Time Lord."

"Bit pompous."

"Perhaps."

"Anyway, can I help you?"

"No," you said, "I'll just get off your lawn."

And you stepped inside the blue box. And it began to disappear. And there was the sound. I closed my eyes and listened to it. I can hear it in my head now, that beautiful sound.

With hope,

Martha, the second one