Mr. Fuzzy Fez   von <span style='color: gray;'>abgemeldet</span>
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                                Prolog: Memorys
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The stars were shining bright on the blue box and smiled for the lonely man and
he smiled back. He smiled back but deep in him was a storm of rage, anger and
sadness. Deep in his inner he screames out loud his pain but no one sees this.
Everyone just sees a childish man with a bowtie and a tweedjacket but he is
lonely. He is lonlier then the most of us.
He had seen how people come and go, he seen how stars were born and how they
died und how different races disappeared and he has done nothing to prevent
this.
He wasnt allowed to change the curse of history but this one time he wished he
could.
Often he was standing there and was thinking about to travel back in time to
save a beloved person.
Cathy Scott.
His girl, his daughter.
He loved her so much, more than anything else and he hoped that he could save
her. He promised and failed. After her death he was just one last time on the
place where it 
happened and there he found the key for the TARDIS which he gave her. One of the
angels must ripped it off of her neck.
Oh yes the angels took the most beloved person in his life from him and he swore
revenge.
Everytime when he closes his eyes he sees her lifeless body in the control room
of the TARDIS. Lying on the cold ground and everytime he tries to save her and
everytime he fails.
"I failed...", whispers the Time Lord and goes back in the TARDIS "i promised to
save her and i failed.." 
He goes to the old room of her. He need the place but it would rip his heart
when he delets her bedroom. Careful he opened the door to her bedroom and
entered. The old known smell of her hung in the room and her old paintings of
their adventuers lay around on her bed, the floor nad her desk. Her bed was big
and comfortable. He allowed her to set up her room
by herself. The doctor smiled when he thinks about with what anticipation she
set up her room and she had so much fun to make this. He sat down on her bed and
looked around the bedroom "my little Cat...", he murmured and stroke with his
tall fingers over the sheet.
There was so much he wanted to say to her,  so much that he wanted to show her
but it was too late for this...
As he wanted to stand up, he noticed a sheet of paper which slipped under her
bed. Hesitantly but curios he leaned down to see what it was.
It was a painting of him and her in London of the 19th century...

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