My Doctor

I never wanted him to love me, not like that. Not like he loved Rose. I just wanted to be his friend, his companion for once. But we never became that. I made too many mistakes. My biggest one was being created. Even though it was not my fault, the way he looked at me made me feel like it was. The next mistake was falling in love. Out of all the people in the universe I could have fallen for, I fell for a man who hurt. The Master. When Doctor learned of our relationship, he flew into a mad rage and told me I could never make things right if I kept going on the way I did. He told me I couldn't love him. My third and final mistake was surviving. He gave me a choice; he said I could either end it quickly and remove myself from this world, or I could suffer on and be killed by him. He told me, he said that he would kill me. His eleventh form was always his angriest. Then again, the older her got, the angrier he got in general. Which is why I always tried to visit Nine. He was awful sweet to me. I knew him in that form long before Rose came along and stole his heart. I was older, too, appearing to be about forty. I was in love with Nine, as I had been in love with Eight. But unlike Eight, Nine did not love me back in that way. I was more like a sister to his lonely self. As much as Farceur was one to me. My time with Nine was so fun, because of my ability to protect myself, he had to worry less. We spent more time goofing off than running in fear. But then I went away for a mere week and came back to find that he had found someone else. At first I was jealous and upset, but I moved on quickly after stealing one kiss from his startled self. Now there is 11, and he hates me. It's not as bad as 10's hate for me. 11 is more accepting of my fate, he admits that it is not my fault I am a monster. But he still can't stop himself from hating me. When I was with 11, he used to use the words of a young boy by the name of George; he would look at me and say, "Save me from the monsters." He was referring to me, of course. He said that I was his monster. One time, I flew into a rage and told him that if I was his monster then he would have died alone a long time ago, but instead I cared for him, despite my monstrous demeanor. Because although I was his monster, he was my Doctor. He said that it would never matter how much I could love someone, I would always be their monster.

Maybe that is why love eludes my comprehension.

Maybe that is why I have come to know love as something to be feared.

_{Maybe that is why I am forbidden to love.}


But maybe, just maybe, it is why I do love.

To prove him wrong.