My Brother and the Doctor

I have a thriteen-year-old younger brother.

 He's the cutest thing (next to an Adipose), but there's only one thing: he's not a Whovian! 

In the world of middle school (and, *tear* high school...they grow up so fast [we have a five and a half year diffrence]), at least in the greater New York City area, being a Whovian is far from "cool"--and I'll admit that that is a big reason that I waited until college to get into it, and in my brother's quest to be the cooliest (I think its a alpha-maledominance thing), he avoids it, and even gets on me about liking it. Well, last Wednesday (20/3/13), I convinced him to watch an episode with me. I chose Silence in the Library/The Forest of the Dead, because that's the one that scares me the most (#VashtaNerada). And a miracle happened. Yes, a miracle as defined by the Doctor himself (Miracle: Very rare impossible things that just happen in this big, vast, complicated, ridiculous universe. See: The Pandorica Opens). He *liked* it. Now, like any thirteen-year old who's not fond of school, he tends to put things off to the last minute. He had to write a sci-fi story for his English class. He's not as verbal as I am (only .3% of the population are) and was a bit stuck. That is, until I came and gave him a bit of...inspiration. He already had commited to writing something about nuceulear ratiation after a third world war, and Silence in the Library was still fresh in his mind. Here is his Vashta Nerada-inspired story: 

Two years have passed since Nuclear World War ended--but not like anyone is keeping track, calendars are the least of their problems. Since all the grown-ups were killed in the war, grown-ups as in over 13, the children, 12 and under, are the only people left in the world, and must care for themselves, a responsibility that is sometimes difficult.

            Even the children are at war with each other. Only those who are left, anyway. In this era of Earth, the children have been battling with each other in tribes based on their cities or towns or village, those are their tribes.

            We all know that this will soon be the end as humanity as we know it. But yet, I still feel that there is still a hope for civilization will prosper again. I end up becoming more doubtful and getting snapped back into the real world. Nuclear radiation poisoning makes it almost impossible to go one day without a death, and due to the longer days and shorter nights, those dead bodies, that we just pile up on the side of the street and build walls out of to protect from enemies, rot there in the sun. There flesh becomes burnt as they lay in piles of death, causing even more illnesses and more deaths. Eventually, these bodies get almost vaporized, and there is nothing left of them except dust.

The dust. The killer. The reason my dream of civilization were ruined. It all started one day as I was walking down a rotten and foggy street that I had seemed to not recognize, but I kept walking. What felt like hours, became minutes, and minutes, to actual hours, but I kept walking. I finally approached a sign. “Welcome to the village Todath.”

The village of Todath! I thought But that was lost years ago!

As I walked down the street more, the sun became clearer, and casted a shadow behind me, but a second appeared next to it, a shadow I didn't notice.

I walked back to my home town, and fell asleep in the lodging area where all the 259 remaining survivors live too.

I later wake up to the blood-cry shriek of my neighbor, Ryan. I enter his room to find his body, dead. But this wasn’t surprising. The surprising part is that all that was left was bones and shredded clothes.

Wait, I thought again, but, he was alive five seconds ago, wasn’t he? I remember seeing him last night. And there is no way he could have dissolve that fast. Is there?

I ran to report the death to Mitchell, my best friend and keeper of bodies for our town.

“Mitchell” I yelled to him, out of breath from running, “Ryan is dead! He’s all bones! And clothes!” I reported

“Joshua,” He said “that’s impossible”.

“Oh you think that’s impossible? Well, what if I were to tell you that he was alive minutes ago? Huh? What then?”  He looked at me for a second, thinking of something to say. Then finally;

“Then I’d put you in a straitjacket and lock you in a room.”

“No, really, I’m serious!”

“Fine then, where is this skeleton” he said sarcastically, getting up and waving his hands as if he were scared.

I turned around to show him and I realized that something wasn’t right. Then I realized; He had a second shadow. I tried to bring it to his attention, but he didn’t believe me and kept walking towards Ryan's apartment.

As we got there, the same shriek recurred, but this time, it was Mitchell’s.

“I know right? Impossible!” I stated as a turned to him. But when I turned, he wasn’t there. I look down and see the same thing, bones, torn clothes, and a dead Mitchell. I ran. I ran as fast as I can towards a mountain that I had always seen, but never gone, checking my shadow for a trace of a second.

As I approached the peak, it started to rain, I needed shelter. I saw an opening in the mountain and ran in there

“A cave,” I said to myself, “I’ll spend the night in here and find a new tribe to be a part of in the morning.”

Just then, a man, short, old, and boney, came walking out of the darkness. He was dressed in grey robes and had a log, fat white beard. Dumbledore? I thought.

“Who are you?” he said firmly, squinting his eyes and grasping a random stick

“Who are you?” I snapped back immediately

“Very well,” He said “I am Moon, knower of all secrets and history to know, now, who

are you?” he said. I looked at him for a while, tilted my head up, and squinted my eyes, even more squinti-er than him.

“I am Joshua,” I said, finally “wounder-er of one secret.”

“And what would that secret be?” Moon said.

He was quick to respond, I could tell he was eagerly awaiting my question because it must be exciting to have someone to talk to after God knows how many years.

“Well, actually two.”

“Proceed.”

“Well, first, I thought that no more adults remained.”

“Yes, well, apparently that's false.”

“Well, um, yes, apparently, and second, how does a second shadow kill a man down to his bones?”

“What!”

“I know, Impossible, but-”

“No! It is very common! Especially after wars! The dead bodies that pile the streets become dust, the nuclear radiation and the flies mix. The dust floats around, with the mind of a hungry fly, the fly produces larva, and more come into play, they are called Hava YiYen. Anyone who sees it dies, they usually try to run, but then, even more people see them then they must die too!”

This explanation scares me enough for me to turn and run home. But I forgot to check my shadow. I feel the Hava YiYen come onto me. I look at my hand, and see dust particle run up it, uncovering white bone as it advances up my arm. I scream, but it was too late, in a matter of seconds, I went from a running breathing person, to a pile of bones and ripped clothes. The Hava YiYen are all around us in the darkness. They had killed my neighbor, friend, and me. Let this be a warning to you now, but remember: you’re next.  

-My Brother Isaac, age 13

Well, I hope you appreciated that.