[Archivist's note: Excerpts have been reproduced to the best of our current ability. The pages found were severely damaged, and have been preserved in the order discovered. Notes have been appended where necessary. –JM]
Saved the world (again) today.
Sometimes I wonder if this is getting a bit too predictable.
Today we left the Doctor.
We said goodbye, and gathered our things from our room, and walked out of the TARDIS for the last time. From now on, tomorrow will follow today at regular intervals.
It was the right thing to do. It was the right choice to make. It was the right time to do it.
I know it was the right thing.
So why does it feel like the end of everything?
[Archivist's note: Following text is unsalvageable.]
I remember the day I first met Becky.
I'd been in London barely a week, and was utterly out of my depth, this scared little American girl completely lost and alone. I was trying to figure out the Tube and I was fucking terrified. Out of my mind with fear and confusion and this overwhelming sense that I should have just stayed home.
Becky rescued me, my knight in shining armor. She patiently talked me into calming down and then talked me through what to do. She made sure I got to where I was going. And then she took me out to lunch.
I remember being so amazed by her, this beautiful glamorous put-together woman. I remember wanting to be her. I remember wanting to have her.
She took my phone number before we parted ways, and I remember praying she would call soon.
It's funny, the things you think about.
Becky is going to be fine.
Becky is going to be fine.
The Doctor says Becky is going to be fine, and he should know. If I can't trust the Doctor's word for it, well, what am I doing here at all.
So there we go.
Becky is going to be fine…
[Archivist's note: The next page is just the phrase 'Becky is going to be fine' repeated over and over.]
[date illegible] 
I cannot fucking believe this.
I AM STANDING ON FUCKING MARS.
Becky is hitting the shops and the Doctor is doing whatever it is the Doctor is doing and I am standing at this observation window and I cannot believe my fucking eyes, because I am standing on Mars.
This will never, ever get old.
Going to find Becky. And kiss her. On Mars.
The Doctor's favorite part is the running. Becky's favorite part is the new worlds and new people.
I'm not sure, but I think my favorite part is the bits in between, just the three of us in the TARDIS. I love this ship. I love the sense of security and home I have when we're all here.
Every so often, late at night, I can hear her singing in the back of my head.
What is my life??
Have you ever had a moment where you wonder, just a little, whether you just made the best decision of your life or the worst?
The Doctor is completely mental. I know I called him a madman, but the thing is, that is far more accurate a description than I thought it was. He is insane and terrifying and dangerous and he may very well get us killed.
Becky thinks he's a lot older than he looks. How can you tell, with a time-traveling alien?
Either we're going to die following him, forever away from anywhere or anywhen we might call "home", or we're going to have the most amazing experiences of your life.
Of course, it could wind up being both.
Back in the real world…
That sounds so odd, like what's going on now isn't real, and it is. But it's a different kind of real, on the TARDIS with the Doctor.
Back before all of this, I once went down to Becky's work to meet her for lunch. It was her birthday. We were going to celebrate. My treat.
I was waiting for her to finish up the last of her morning workload.
And this guy came out and asked me who I was waiting for, and I told him, "My girlfriend."
He kind of laughed, and looked at me odd, and asked why a pretty girl like me thought I had to resort to other women.
It wasn't anything I hadn't heard before, that stupid you're-too-pretty-to-be-a-lesbian bullshit, and I was ready to just forget it had happened. But Becky was walking out at that same moment and she heard him.
She was upset the rest of the day, fuming and snarling about stupid homophobes, and because I am not good at being comforting my way of dealing with her being upset was to talk about the Stonewall riots, and the White Night riots, and the Festival of Light, and the history of queer discrimination and the huge leaps in progress the civil rights movements had made so far and how it's just going to keep getting better, Becky, and honestly, we have it so much better than people did even a handful of years ago…
Since we've started this ridiculous, amazing, incredible trip with the Doctor, it's been awe-inspiring, seeing the kinds of leaps in progress LBGT movements will continue to make. Seeing that [illegible text] sexuality and gender identity will be as unimportant and welcomed as eye color – it's been so inspiring and encouraging.
Yesterday, I stood in the middle of a riot, caused by the differences between people who believe that love is never wrong and people who think it's their business who other people fall in love with. Yesterday, I ducked things thrown at me, was hit and kicked, held the hand of a little girl who'd been separated from her dads and was terrified and didn't know what to do. Yesterday, I was called names that hurt a hell of a lot worse than any of the shit that's been hurled at me ever before.
Yesterday, I watched a brick hit Becky in the head, and I watched her fall under the feet of people who were too angry to notice her.
Becky is fine. Becky is healing and angry and full of righteous indignation, and she is fine.
The Doctor is avoiding us. I don't know if he feels guilty for taking us there and [illegible text] or if he feels guilty for Becky getting hurt, but he fixed her up and has made himself scarce.
I am not fine.
I don't know what
[Archivist's note: Rest of entry too damaged to salvage.]
It's really astonishing how quickly this has become…well, not normal, exactly, but…what would the word be? Accepted, I guess. It's really astonishing how quickly I've come to accept that this is my life now. In this beautiful blue box visiting the universe with Becky and the Doctor (who is, in fact, completely mad).
When I was a kid I would read Alice's Adventures In Wonderland and get upset at what seemed to me to be Alice's unnaturally quick adjustment. She would comment on how nonsensical everything was once in a while, but mostly she just went along with things. And I would complain, because shouldn't she be more upset or confused by this bizarre world she's fallen into?
Sorry, Alice. I get where you were coming from, now.
You just gotta go with it.
Ladies and gentleman, I present to you Mrs. Rebecca Wright.
This is not the way I ever imagined my wedding would be: more than a hundred years after the day I was born, with an alien lunatic playing witness and man of honor, one of the brides managing a broken arm, and the impromptu reception broken up by what appeared to be a zombie invasion (but turned out to be a curable virus of alien origin).
I don't care.
I wouldn't change a thing.
I am married to the woman of my dreams and this is the most wonderful, fantastic, beautiful, brilliant, perfect, and bizarrely horror-movie-styled day of my life.
And I look around at this world, at this time, and even with the zombies – which the Doctor keeps saying are not zombies and I shouldn't call them that but if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck I don't care if it's technically an aquatic alien multiform I'm going to call it a duck – even with the zombies, even knowing that this time isn't perfect, that there are still things that need to be improved and fixed and fought against –
Even with all that, I want this.
I want to fight for this.
Or maybe I just want to go home and brag about my beautiful, wonderful wife, and not have anyone look at me sideways or be surprised or make snide comments.
Today my entire life was turned upside down Today everything changed Today
Today I met a madman in a big blue box and we helped him save the world.
Today he invited us along to see the universe
And we said yes
And I don't know what's going to happen next
And I am terrified and delighted and I don't know what's going to happen next
But it's going to be something.
[Archivist's note: Following text unsalvageable.]
 Written early in sequence, but exact date not placed. Almost certainly takes place before Day 25. Unclear whether it takes place before or after Day 12. Attempts to date the paper unsuccessful.
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 Translated as 'singing' here; may actually be 'calling' or 'talking'. Context is unclear. The word 'singing' was chosen from the possibilities largely for the image it evokes, and it is an evocative image, isn't it?
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 I would like to imagine the reader is familiar with the historical events mentioned here. However, I am aware of what is being taught in our schools. See Appendix A for details of the events. Twentieth century AD Earth history.
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 This entry was accompanied by a number of amateur sketches; attempts to reproduce the drawings resulted in further damage to the pages and were abandoned. The drawings seem to suggest that the riot being discussed took place on Earth sometime in late twentieth century to middle twenty-first century AD.
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