weeping starlight


silver supernovas


"What do you do when you can't sleep?"

Her head tilts.

"Well, I stay awake. I thought that'd be obvious."

He laughs, a loud, booming, friendly sound.

"I mean, what do you do to pass the time?"

She smiles brightly.

"Oh! Well, I have this big window next to my bed. There's this large, dark blue shade over it, and it's always closed, except for when I open it," she pushes a piece of hair out of her face, her eyes wide and filled with glitter. "So, I'll open this giant shade and I'll kneel next to it, and it's like I… It's like I was playing hopscotch. It's like I was playing hopscotch, only I jumped too far, and I landed in the stars instead."

He takes off his glasses.

"And so I'll rest my head on the sill and I'll look at these… these thousands of stars, and I'll see all the adventures they have on them. Like, that star over there is a star where you can only speak in colors," an elation drips into her tone, dreamy and soft. "And that star there, the dogs speak and the humans bark. That star, it's like you're standing in the middle of a diamond, and everything is so… dazzling, you can't breathe."

"Jenny –"

"And that one over there, it's so tiny there's only room for one person, so when you stand on it, you close your eyes and try to shine as brightly as you can, and for a moment, you pretend that you're a star—" Her unblinking eyes well up with tears, and they slither silently down her pale skin.

"Jenny, stop—"

"—and then there's my favorite."

He quiets and she softens, her eyes staring at nothing, their sparkle fading, her voice losing it's dreamy quality.

"On my favorite star, you're always happy. Nobody can, can hurt you or lock you up. Nobody can tell you things aren't real. You can do whatever you want, and you're always h-happy."

Another tear falls down her cheek.

"But those stars don't exist, do they?" she whispers.

The doctor shakes his head. "No, Jenny. They don't."

And so Jenny cries in her white, windowless bedroom, wishing she could be on her happy star, and the doctor shakes his head and rubs his eyes, wishing that it existed.


thanks for reading, it means a lot. (: inspired by my wish to go on adventures with the Doctor, and the reality that it'll never happen. please point out any errors, i only looked over this once after a very quick type-up.

i've missed you, fictionpress.