It was a friday afternoon in a balmy September, six years ago. Elowyn and Braxton were home alone, waiting for their parents to get home. It seemed to be just like any other day. Elowyn took the bus uptown to the elementary school to pick up Braxton, and then they rode a taxi downtown to their shabby little apartment on 42nd street. Each day it was the same. Their parents worked until after dark, and the kids generally had to fend for themselves when it came to entertainment and food. Elowyn and Braxton were close, and had no trouble finding something to do. Only minutes after arriving home, they pulled out a board game. Candy Land to be exact. Braxton had just rolled a 6 on the dice, and had passed by Elowyn, when suddenly, the entire apartment began to shake.
“What’s happening?!?!” cried Braxton, “I want mommy and daddy!” He ran to the back of the apartment and into his sister’s room, where he hid under the bed. Elowyn shouted back to Braxton to be careful, but doubted he heard her over the groaning and creaking of the apartment’s walls and foundation. As she made her way back through the narrow hallway, heavy picture frames fell off the walls, landing smartly on Elowyn’s head. She fell, obviously knocked unconscious, to the tiled floor. The home continued to shake, and sparks flew from light bulbs and power sockets. The lamps flickered and the tiny chandelier in the dining room swayed back and forth as the spackle from the ceiling fell onto the table. Braxton continued to cower in the safety of his sisters room, hidden away between shoe boxes and dust bunnies. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, a faint blue light appeared, hovering somewhere between the stove and the refrigerator.

If anyone had been paying attention at the time of his arrival, they would have noted the “VWORP, VWORP, VWORP” sound emanating from the pulsing blue light, and a shadowy outline of a blue box appearing slowly. Eventually, roughly a whole 30 seconds later, a Police Public Call Box is sitting in the middle of the kitchen. A young man stepped out, looked left, looked right, sighed, and mumbled under his breath: “Damn. I’m too late.” He dashes to the hallway, dodging the now overturned couch to scoop Elowyn into his arms and carries her to the bedroom where Braxton is hiding. It is as if he knows what has happened, and what soon will happen. And this, of course, is because he does. He is from the generation of beings that comes into existence after the world ends.
"Hello, Braxton. I am Lincoln Colthurst. I'm here to save you and your sister," and after a short bark from Percy, the young man added, "and this little guy."
Still frightened at what his current situation had become, Braxton poked his head out from under the bed.
"Who are you? What happened to sissy? Is she dead? Did you hurt her?!?" And a thousand similar questions came pouring out of the little child's mouth.
"Braxton. Calm down. I'm Lincoln Colthurst. I'm here to help you. And before you start spouting some stranger danger crap to me, If you don't come with me? You and Elowyn will die." Finding this odd man to be at least somewhat trustworthy, Braxton decided, simply for his sake and Elowyn’s as well, that he should listen to what this man had to say. He did as he was told. He scooted himself off to find a rag to dab the blood from Elowyn’s face. As he was doing so, he listened to the man mutter to himself as he paced back and forth across the room.
“They have to come with me. I came all this way--it would be a waste. But if I bring them...everything would change...but if I don’t, then what? They’d die a rather unpleasant death. Well, melting in a river of super heated lava could be considered more pleasant than other things, but that’s not my point! Nope. I’ve made up my mind. I decided my fate when I left in the T.A.R.D.I.S. But could I still change my mind? They’ll remember that I was here, of course. And there’s no way of changing that. But wouldn’t that make their deaths that much more terrible? Knowing that I was here, and purposefully chose to ignore the fact that they were going to die? Agreed. Then I’ll do it. My only choice is to be a teensy bit humane to these random strangers and take them with me. But they have to know the rules first," Lincoln rambled on and on, and by the time he was finished, Braxton had finished cleaning Elowyn’s face.

Taking as much control of the situation as he could, Braxton grabbed the sleeve of Lincoln’s grey leather jacket. This, for some reason, stopped Lincoln in his tracks. All pacing, muttering, and the random trains of thought that were spewing from his lips had ceased. No one had dared to come so close to him before. But this sweet, innocent little boy looked up into the older man’s face with a sort of distinct fear, and yet he seemed extremely courageous at the same time. Then Lincoln began to feel very protective of the soul standing in front of him.
Now, I suppose I should explain a few things. Do you remember back at the beginning, when I was describing Mr. Colthurst? And recall the fact that he was blind? Well, Lincoln’s blindness is a sort of special blindness. He is from a distant future, too far for any human to conceive in fact. And in this future, people adapt almost instantly to changes in their environment. Lincoln was born blind and with many many physical and mental issues. One might even assume he was only worth a vegetable. His disabilities were fixed nearly an hour after he was born, entirely naturally, and his vision restored...to a point. He just saw shapes and colors and shadows. Anyways, back to the story, before I start talking about my great uncle Bert, who was also blind, and pretty much the creepiest guy I ever met.
“Alright, Braxton. If I bring you and your sister with me, there’s some rules you have to follow. One-Don’t--under ANY circumstances--look into the heart of the T.A.R.D.I.S. And when I say never, I mean NEVER. Two-Don’t touch anything that doesn’t belong to you, or anything that you aren’t sure what it is. It is most likely dangerous. So just, don’t touch, okay? Three-If I ask you to do something, do it! I’m serious. There are so many things that could go wrong if you don’t listen to me,” spouted Lincoln.
“Yessir!” replied Braxton. Lincoln carried Elowyn in the general direction of the kitchen and Braxton followed close behind. Lincoln didn't quite yet know what he was getting in to, but then again, neither did Elowyn. But of course, she had a good enough excuse as to why, having been passed out for a majority of the story thus far.

The T.A.R.D.I.S. stood, waiting as patiently as a time traveling phone booth could, in the kitchen, the same place as Lincoln left it before. Magnificently plain, the T.A.R.D.I.S. looked severely out of place, though it was in equally shabby and worn surroundings. The deep blue paint was peeling here. And there was a scuff around the corner, just under a false window. The sign that read "Police Public Call Box" was chipped and barely visible past the thick layer of dust and grime that covered the entirety of it's surface. Braxton looked at this blue box and wondered why it was in his mother's kitchen. Not how it got there, but simply 'why'. He looked to Lincoln for an answer, but his new adult companion was busy feeling the sides of the box. Strange, thought Braxton, what's he lookin' for? Finally, exasperated, Lincoln forced his hands into the multiple pockets of his leather jacket, obviously looking for something. After what seemed like an eternity of searching, a thought occurred to him. Immediately, he thrust his hands into his breast pocket and found what he had been looking for. His Sonic Screwdriver!
Now, just a side note, if you aren’t sure what a Sonic Screwdriver is, listen up! A Sonic Screwdriver is a pen shaped object about the length of a celery stalk. It whirs and hums and lights up in different colors, depending on what it is doing. It can open virtually every lock, short-circuit any electronic device, and kill robots.
Lincoln pulled out his trusty Sonic Screwdriver, and pointing it in the general direction of a little circular indentation (from years of wear and tear from the dear old screwdriver) and pushed a little silver button. The end of the device lit up a fantastic periwinkle color, flashed a few times, whirred, clanked, and then, suddenly, a POP! And a door swung open. Finally, gathering Elowyn off the capsized couch, Lincoln nudged the door open a bit more, using his foot, and stalked into the blue box. Braxton ran back to his sister’s room, grabbed Percy, who was still cowering at the constant shaking of the house, and reappeared back at the T.A.R.D.I.S. before Lincoln had even missed him. The tiny pomeranian barked at Lincoln for a moment, then quieted himself, as he was much too distracted by the apartment walls that were flaking paint and wooden boards that were coming up from the kitchen floor. Lincoln again looked left, looked right, then pulled Braxton into the T.A.R.D.I.S. Braxton closed the light but sturdy door behind him, put Percy down, and gazed in wonder at all the shiny and blinking things in the large room he was now standing in.

Lincoln was already fast at work, and Braxton knew why. The entire place had begun shaking madly. It’s as if we’re in a giant snowglobe, and a giant is shaking it up! thought Braxton. A small doorway was lit, off to the right of where he was standing, and he decided to go explore it. Lincoln was distracted, after all, and probably wouldn’t mind. As it turns out, it was another room! Peering inside, Braxton saw a rather large room. It wasn’t simply a room, but a walk in closet. There were shelves on the walls, and horizontal poles off of which scores of different clothing hung. A chaise lounge was positioned in the far left corner, where the shelves and pole had been cleared of clothing, and on it, lay Elowyn.
Upon turning around, Braxton watched Lincoln press a multitude of buttons and pull quite a few levers. A CLICK! and a BANG! and they’re off! The T.A.R.D.I.S. took disappeared in another 30 seconds, and the Time Lord and his fellow explorers were off on a long and taxing journey...