The Doctors Regeneration

Image Credit: Kevan B., Beaverton, OR The author's comments: Please be warned that this may be complete rubish or it may not be I'm not completely sure. Also this is my take on the Doctors regeneration from the 10th Doctor (David Tennant) to the 11th Doctor (Matt Smith). I would love constructive critizism but please don't be mean for the fun of it. By the way this is done from the persective of the Doctor himself. Okay well here goes.... "I bet your gonna have a really great year!" I watched Rose walk away. This was the first time she had ever seen me. I wonder if she will even rememver it when I come around for her the next time. I had held on long enough to see them all and do one last good thing for them. I saved a boys life from a car, stopped a Sontarian from killing Mickey and Martha. I even went to see Donna and Rose though neither of them had the faintest idea who I was. That was the part that hurt the most, seeing all the people I changed so much. I've wondered every day if they would have been better with out me. I've hurt them all so much but none of them see it that way. That was the worst part about this verison of me. So many feelings. Always doing the right thing, taking the high road, saving the old man trapped in to box. There were times when I wouldn't have hesitated to walk away, versions of myself not afraid to be selfish or cruel even, a me that killed off my own race just to stop the Dialeks. But not this body no no no... It was Rose I think. She was so kind so pure it was almost imposible to be cruel. I've had so many good time but also so many bad times in this body. I met my wife in this body. But that same day I also watched her die. I felt so bad for her because when I looked in her eyes I could see the pain I was causing her by not knowing her. I didn't trust her but she knew the word. The single word I could never tell to anyother person in the universe but the woman I loved. My name. I stumbled back to my blue old tardis limping in the pain of the cells in my body dying. Every footstep laced with pain both physical and mental. I fell over into the cold snow of 2005 as a wave of pain hit from the death of my first heart. Then I saw the Ood waiting for me. "We will sing to you Doctor. The universe will sing you to sleep." Thats when I forced myself back up. I had to get myself to a safe spot some where. Out in the open like this where any one could attack me was dangerous during my regeneration period. If some one killed me while I was regenerating that would be it. My life would cease and my entire life would be over. I was crying as well. The Doctor, the great time lord crying but in a time when a persons life is ending crying is necisarry and completely acceptable. Every good time and bad flashing through my head. All the people I lost through death or separation or just lost running through my mind. All the people who I could never see again because they wouldn't recognize my face. All gone. The Ood spoke again through his translator "This song is ending but the story never ends" I limped the final steps to blue police box and strugled to place my key in the hole and unlock it. If it were any other day I could snap it open but I wasn't even sure if my hands couuld snap anymore. The Ood was right, my time was ending and it scared me more than anything. The next man to come sauntering away would be me but he would be different. I would become how John Smith had become, locked away into the deepest depths of a mind that wasn't mine anymore. A lost forgotten memory. I really hoped I would become ginger though. To have firery locks like that would be cool. Also a bow tie that would be cool. Great is this the person I am become a bow tie guy. I could already feel it stumbling next to the control panel, I could feel every cell starting to completly rewrite itself, my personalitly rewriting along with it. My soul was on fire and not in a good romantic way. The familiar orange and yellow "breath of time" as I like to call it started pouring out of every pore in my body. I could feel the main explosion starting to build up just waiting for the perfect time. By this time tears were streaming down my face. "I don't want to go" What terible last words those are but they are the truth. I truely did not want to change. Just then the explosion came from the very center of my soul. Every cell that wasn't already dead was fried of leaving the waste to be turned into my new cells. It was one of the most painful things I have ever felt. Every regeneration I've ever had has been slowly getting more and more painful leading up to this one. I could hear the Tardis around me burning along with me but I didn't care. Even if I did there was nothing I could do. Every cell painfully rewriting itself into something new and different. I didn't cry out in pain until I had finally changed. All of a sudden I was not the serious man any more. I could feel myself being weird and quirky and.... hungry. After assessing the damage of my new body there was only one thing I could think about. One thing in the entire universe. Apples.


“The demons are coming,” the old woman said from the corner of her cell. “When,” the sheriff asked. “As soon as you kill me,” she replied. “What if we don’t kill you?” Cries from the townsfolk rose above the window. “That’s not how this goes,” she said, her smile anticipatory. C. P. Lopes is a … Continue reading CP LOPES: The Lot →

HENRY BLADON: Being Judged

He says, tell me what you see. What should I say? A handsome pig? A rabbit? I see a mix of Miro and Dali, but I can’t say that. If he thinks I’m showing off, that defeats the object, because I came here to understand my fear of being judged. Henry Bladon is a writer … Continue reading HENRY BLADON: Being Judged →


Sugar is the enemy. Fat is poison. Mantras like these run on a loop inside my foggy mind. Staring down the overflowing plate, my heart thunders against my ribcage at the thought of eating blacklisted snacks. Grimacing, I take a bite of the Hershey bar. Recovery is a slow process. Lauren is an undergraduate student … Continue reading LAUREN EVERHART-DECKARD: Fear Foods →


Lily sits on a park bench. Pigeons know her. They cluster… fight… peck. The children recognize her too: the one who feeds the pigeons. Lily giggles, opens her purse, sets it on the ground. “She’s crazy,” the children taunt. Pigeons though, coo, bob… fly into her purse filled with sky. Judy DeCroce is a poet … Continue reading JUDY DeCROCE: Lily →

JEN MIERISCH: Chicago Shall Rise Again

Tomlinson raged to his feet, scattering the table and playing cards. “Cheater!” he hollered at O’Leary. “Go home, Tomlinson, you’re drunk!” As Tomlinson stumbled toward the barn door, his boot knocked over the lantern. For three days, Chicago burned. Tomlinson blamed it on O’Leary’s cow. Nobody alive could contradict him. Jen Mierisch draws inspiration from … Continue reading JEN MIERISCH: Chicago Shall Rise Again →