You ran up the stairs, sighing loudly as you opened your door and dumped your backpack on the floor. Freshman year (Year 10, for all my British followers) sucked. You were just glad to be home, as you flopped down face-first onto your duvet.

You were finally relaxing, scrolling on your phone, when you heard a loud crash downstairs. Your parents wouldn’t be home until late, who the hell was down there (and stupid enough to be that noisy)? You looked around your room, a bit panicked, and grabbed an umbrella. Your very dangerous cautionary weapon. You cracked your door open, stealthily sneaking down the stairs. You heard a faint hissing noise, like a machine was letting off steam. As you peered out from behind the railings of the stairs you saw… wait, what? Some giant blue box? In your kitchen?

Your kitchen was an utter mess. cabinets smashed, debris everywhere. The door to the blue box creaked open. “Bloody… box…” A tall lanky man in a brown pinstriped suit murmured, kicking the side of it. The box seemed to respond, more steam spurting from the inside. He groaned, going to the kitchen and rummaging through the cabinets. That was, until he saw you.

”Oh, hello! Have you got any salt?” The strange man asked, coming over to the stairs and looking up at you.

"Salt...?" You asked, pointing the umbrella at him.

"Salt! My translator's working, isn't it? Old girls been sort of finnicky of late..." He spoke like you knew what the hell he was talking about in the first place. As he ran off to the cupboard you followed him, trying to investigate him.

"Who're you? Why're you in my house?" You demanded.

He looked like he'd just remembered he had left the stove running or something. "Where are my manners?" He shook your hand vigorously. "I'm the Doctor. Just the Doctor--- and as for why I'm here, well I'm not entirely sure yet." He smiled widely, going back to the cupboard and rooting around in it some more. "How about you?" He asked, peeking over the top of the cabinet door to peer at you.