Disclaimer- I don't own Doctor Who. You're probably all very lucky that I don't.

A/N- Because Carly and me made a deal. If she 'died' writing fluff (which apparently she did… According to herself. o.O) I had to write an angsty fic in her memory. So here we are. Carly enjoy. It's using my prompt from Carly's iPod challenge. I got Nobody Told Me by John Lennon.

Please keep in mind while reading this: a) Although I've been told otherwise, I maintain that I can't write angst to save my life 2)… Hang on… b) it's 2 o'clock and I'm hungry c) I haven't watched these episodes in a long time, because my DVD's are being stupid and my internet's too slow to watch it online. Please forgive any mistakes. :) d) I'm going through a little first person phase e)… I don't have an e…

Enjoy and review! :D


Nobody told me there would be days like this, where I have to watch people screaming in agony, unable to do anything, watch as they kill each other over food and basic supplies. Watch as death came from those things in the sky, killing men, women and children indiscriminately, taking away what little they did have and leaving them with nothing.

A year ago I never thought we'd see anything like this again. Not after Hitler and all. But then I met the Doctor, and then along came the Master, bringing with him some of Earths darkest days, which, if I do this right, they'll never even remember. But I'll remember it all.

I'll remember the look on the little girl's face, standing on the corner in front of me, begging for food, dressed in clothes that are two sizes to small and torn all over, her hair matted with dirt and knotted to the point where it would have to be shaved off to make it any better. Her sick parents a few corners down, doing the same thing. I could tell that she was sick too. And that she probably wasn't going to make it through this horrible ordeal. The worst thing? She couldn't be any more than ten years old.

I'll remember watching an old man die, wrapped only in a tatty old blanket and wearing only the clothes that he had found in the rubbish, which had obviously been eaten by rats in some parts, and people walking past his lifeless body, as if nothing even happened. While the little family he had left cries over him. Their tears having no effect but to wash away some of the dirt on his face as they land and roll down his cheek.

I'll remember what the Master did to my family, Jack and the Doctor, whether I was there to see it or not, I found out. I'll remember my mum being used as a slave, and how she never gave up the fight. Not really. I'll remember the stories about Jack being chained to a wall. He never told me how many times he died that year. I'll remember the Doctor being treated like some sort of pet. I suppose that was exactly what the Master thought he was. But then again, the Master thought he was unstoppable. He was wrong.

But you know what I'll remember the most? The fact that none of the people around me cared whether they lived or died. That they thought giving up and dying was some sort of peace.

I remember thinking they don't think we can win.

They were wrong too.

Nobody told me that travelling with the Doctor would mean this. Maybe if I'm lucky, I won't remember it all. Everywhere I look I see pain, despair. But behind all that, is a tiny glimmer of hope that hasn't been extinguished. Hope that it will all one day get better. Because it can't get much worse right? And they are right. Because this, is the darkness before the dawn. Unfortunately, it's going to have to get a lot worse before it gets any better.


A/N- So yeah. That's the end of that! :) I needed a little bit of hope in the end there…

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