***

MANY YEARS LATER...

Things are getting better -- that's what she keeps telling herself. Things have to get better. They just have to.

It's why she's fine with a dreamless sleep. She doesn't need visions tormenting her as she slumbers. The meds were doing their job, easing the madness of it all. This was a step towards normalcy. In time, she could learn how to worry about the present instead of dreading the future. She'd be able to move out of her foster family's house and the cupboard-sized bedroom she was steadily growing too big for.

Morning light peeked through the gap under her doorway as the young woman groaned in her folding bed. Willow rubbed her eyes with the back of her wrist, yawning.

As she slowly came through, light peeking through the gap under the doorway, a voice called out to her. "Will, you up?" her eyes fluttered open, her cheeks smushed against the single pillow under her head. "Will!"

"It's Sunday!" she yelled back.

"It's actually Monday, but you can lay in if you want." Rose, her foster sister, replied. "You know, you might lose your job in the process, but it's worth it for an extra couple of hours, right?"

The young woman groaned. "Ugh..."

"Can you be ready in ten?" she asked.

Willow flipped onto her back, releasing a sigh as she stared up at the ceiling. "I guess I can try."

Trying was something she was moderately good at. She didn't want to try, but she had to for the sake of her own sanity.

This is how most days went. Willow would get up, have a quick cup of tea, bid her mother farewell, then follow Rose out the front door and make their way downstairs. They'd get onto the next bus to central London and get to their job by eight o'clock. 

Everything ran like clockwork -- and the continuity was beginning to strain. The monotony of it all was going to drive her insane if she didn't break out sooner or later. Something had to change.

Often Willow would find herself questioning if there was more to this, but those thoughts were met with shrugging shoulders and occasionally a vision that would cause her discomfort. She was getting better at controlling it, though. All she had to do was focus on the present, which is harder than people think.

The clock ticked on, and soon enough, it was the middle of the day. Shifting sunlight reflected against the shop windows, blinding her if she looked a certain way. Willow folded some male flannels, flattening them with her palms and placing them on shelves. 

Every so often, an ignorant customer would come along and mess up the display, only infuriating her. There was this huge sale on, so everyone wanted a piece of reduced clothing. She was lucky not to be on tills today.

As folded a red and black-checkered shirt, Rose approached her from her right. "Hey, can you cover for me?"

She smirked, settling the item on top of a pile. "For how long?"

"Just thirty to forty-five minutes." She estimated.

Willow placed her elbow on the shelf, twisting her body to face her. "That's very exact."

Rose snickered, glancing off to the side. "I know." 

Once again, Rose was meeting up with her boyfriend in Trafalgar Square. He worked nearby, which made things easier for her. Even though she dropped out of school, Willow still had high hopes for her. 

People make assumptions all the time about her, but Willow knows there's more to Rose Tyler than meets the eye. She didn't want to her sister be stuck in a never-ending job her whole life.

"Just tell Maureen I'm sick or something if she asks." She told her.

"Got it." She turned away. "Have fun."

Rose wrapped her arms around her shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze. "You're the best."

Willow gave her arm a pat, smiling. "I know. I know."

No matter what, Willow was always going to look out for her little sister. It didn't matter if they weren't related by blood, they'd always have each other's backs.

She watched her walk off, speeding out of the main entrance and checking no one was looking. Willow shook her head, chuckling to herself.

From behind, a mannequin toppled over, its plastic head slamming against the ground. Willow jumped a little, spinning over her right shoulder. It lay still on the floor, its black fedora strewn nearby. She assumed someone knocked it by accident, but Willow would have heard hurried footsteps shortly after. Perhaps she would have seen a figure too.

She didn't think too much about it, simply walking over and picking it back up. Willow propped it between two different mannequins, adjusting its pose to market the clothes it was wearing. She grasped its face, manually rearing its head to the left. 

As she stepped away from the mannequin, turning her back and bending down to pick up the fedora, Willow heard a light squeak. She crooked her head to the side, glimpsing up at the mannequin. To her surprise, its blank face stared back at her. Willow's gut tightened, frozen to the spot. It had no eyes, and yet, she felt its hardened gaze pierce her like a needle.

Slowly, Willow straightened up, clutching the fedora between her fingers. Her heart throbbed, beating against her ribcage. She raised her arms and slipped the hat back onto its plastic scalp, adjusting it slightly. Her right thumb and finger pinched together, holding its chin. Willow moved its head back to its rightful place, and as she stepped back, the young woman kept her eyes on it.

She kept her feet rooted to the floor and crossed her arms, watching out for any funny business. If some kid was playing a trick on her, she was gonna have their head.

Just then, warm hands grasped her waist, giving them a slight pinch. A man's voice whispered into her ear. "Hey, baby."

She spun back with a brief squeal, pushing his hands away. Her feet shuffled back, one hand grabbing a fistful of her shirt. Willow's gaze landed on him, recognising him in an instant.

James Carrigan, her boyfriend of two years, laughed at her panic. He didn't work at the shop, so his abrupt appearance was a shock to her.

Willow rolled her eyes, groaning. "Jesus, you scared me! Why would you do that?"

Physical contact made her uncomfortable sometimes. She knew even the lightest graze of flesh against hers could cause a potential vision.

But it was just James, and she knew he could never hurt her. "Sorry." His apology was half-hearted, yet Willow knew he meant well. "I'm on my break, so I thought I'd pop in and say hi."

"No," she drawled out with a light giggle, her shoulders loosening as she grew more relaxed, "I was gonna see you in the office during my break."

He shrugged. "Well, I'm here now."

"Yeah, but I'm not on break." She told him.

James picked up one of the flannel shirts, unfolding her work as he examined the item. "You can help me pick out some new clothes then."

"That's not my job." Willow snatched the shirt off him. "And this doesn't suit you anyway."

His cheerful expression soured. "Aw, really?"

"There's a reason it's on sale." The crumpled shirt rested against a shelf, Willow folding it back up and laying it on a pile of various sizes. "No one wears flannel in March unless you really have to."

"That's why I need your assistance. You know what's trending." James assumed that, because she worked for a clothing retailer, she knew about fashion. But Willow was the type to buy anything that looked nice and was cheap enough to purchase.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm not your personal shopper."

James wasn't well-off, per se. He'd grown up in a run-down housing estate, but his smarts won him a scholarship at a posh private school. Now, he was the type of guy who'd roll his own blunts instead of smoking cigarettes.

Sometimes, she wondered if he took pity on her. He was earning more than enough and she was just a girl in a shop -- it didn't make sense for him to love her.

"You didn't have to scare me with the mannequin, you know." One hand rested on her hip. "You could have greeted me like a normal person, instead of freaking me the hell out."

He narrowed his eyes. "Mannequin?" His girlfriend pointed up at the one in the centre. "Wait, is that what they're called? I've always called them dummies."

Her brows drew together. "So, you didn't move its head?"

James scoffed, glancing back and forth. "No, of course not. That's so childish."

She looked back at the still mannequin, still feeling uneasy. "Okay..."

"Things move by themselves all the time -- it's just physics." He reasoned.

Her mouth fell open. "Yeah, like you know anything about physics." Despite his high IQ, she knew he was terrible at science. "You got a D in A-level Biology."

Willow sorted out a few more piles of flannels as her boyfriend adjusted his blazer, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. He bit his lip, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Hey, have you thought more about what I said the other day?"

"Oh." She swallowed, her body tensing up again. "Well, I mean, it's a big step-"

"Come on, Willow. We're getting married." Oh, yeah -- that. Her gaze wandered to the ring on her finger, its diamond shine reflecting in the light. "Would it be so bad to live with each other?"

"No, it's not that." She chuckled in a self-deprecating manner, folding her arms as she faced him again. "I just imagined that I'd spend these years travelling, you know?" It was a dream shared with dozens like her, only they knew what they wanted to do with their lives. "I mean, I wasted my gap year by getting a job, and then I didn't even go to uni."

What they have is nice -- she could settle for nice. Willow didn't want anything to go wrong, and she didn't consider that to be a bad thing. She might hate the monotony, but she has to live with it for the sake of those she cares for.

He shrugged again, smiling. "Well, we have the honeymoon."

"I guess." She pursed her lips, wringing her fingers together. "Why don't I give you my answer tomorrow?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll come by the office during my break." She replied.

"But I might be working."

"Oh, so it's fine popping in when I'm working then?"

"No, that's not..." He pressed his lips together, edging closer with a flirtatious smirk. "... Touché."

"Yeah, Touché." Willow leaned forward, closing her eyes and planting a delicate kiss on his lips. The meds made it easier for her to let go -- to sink into his touch. Her fingers grazed his shaven face as they continued.

His arms curved around her hips, his hands wandering below her waist. They almost forgot they were still in public -- until James abruptly pulled away. "I better be getting back."

"But you just got here?" It had been five minutes, and he was already leaving. She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

He glanced over her shoulder, nodding in that direction. "Yeah, but your manager's giving me evil eyes."

Willow turned around, peering at her manager, Maureen, walking in the distance, her beady eyes locked on the pair. She brushed it off, twisting back. "Oh, yeah. She does that."

"I'll call later, alright?" he said, interlocking his fingers with hers.

She nodded with a tight smile. "Okay."

James stroked her palms, gazing into her dark-brown eyes as he softly uttered. "I love you."

"Yeah, love you too." Willow lightly pecked his cheek, feeling his grip loosen on her hands. "Have a nice day."

"You, too." He returned one last smile before strolling off, tucking his hands back into his pockets and making his way out of the shop.

Once he wasn't looking, Willow's smile fell, and doubt sunk in again. She kept reminding herself that this was supposed to be a good thing. For once, there was something good in her life. But no matter how hard she tries, there's always this hollow feeling in her chest, and she can feel it consuming her very being.

A part of her wants to get out, to run away and find somewhere new -- until rationality crashes in and reminds her of her place in the world. Miracles don't fall out of the sky, so what's the point in wishing on a star? What's the point in wanting something she can never get?

A married life is something she could settle with, but it's not what she wanted.

"Willow?" No one was going to leave her alone today, were they? Of course, her manager would be next to approach her.

She sighed before her lips curved into a fake grin, spinning around. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Do you know where Rose is?" questioned Maureen, crossing her arms.

"She went to the loo." Willow lied.

"She's been gone for over twenty minutes." She didn't think Maureen was the type to keep count, especially when it came to their pay.

"Um, she's constipated, actually." She could have said anything, but those were the words that left her mouth. "It would be best to leave her be for a while."

"I looked at the cameras. I know she left the store." They forgot about the new cameras Wilson installed the other day. He'd been stood up on a ladder all day, and if a young woman were to cross his path, he'd strike up a conversation in an instant. Everyone knew he spent all day jacking off in the basement unless he was summoned to the main floor for maintenance work.

She retained a calm exterior, continuing the lie. "Probably to grab laxatives, I'm sure."

A deep laugh echoed behind her, and though Willow didn't turn around to see who it was, she acknowledged Maureen sending a stern glare over her shoulder. She held the stare for a few more seconds before her face fell, huffing and puffing. "I swear the pair of you drive me up the wall."

As her manager stormed off, Willow glanced behind her back, noticing a man dressed in an old navy blue jacket that hung over his ankles. He was shaking his head, still giggling as he fondled the clothes on the rack.

Willow pivoted on the spot, turning her body to face him. "Something amusing you?"

"A little, yeah." He confessed, his accent sounding American. "Don't mind me. I'm just..." The man sighed, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets as he turned to face her, "... looking around." He appeared uncertain, his gaze darting several times as if he was looking for someone.

Willow rubbed the bridge of her knuckles with her thumb. "Do you need any help or...?"

"No, I'm good." The man insisted with a light sigh. "I'm all good." He nodded with a clenched smile. "See you around."

And with that, he began to walk away, disappearing behind another rack of clothing. Willow remained, bewildered by the strange encounter. "Okay?" she muttered to herself before returning to her job.

She wandered over to a trolley full of stock that required sorting and started to push it away, heading to the other end of the store. Willow didn't even notice the mannequin's head spin back to observe her walking off, unaware of the potential danger.

***

The evening rolled around sooner than expected, and the foster sisters were following behind a gaggle of girls, half-listening to the gossip they spilt to one another. As the pair reached the main entrance, a security guard halted them, shaking a ziplocked bag of money. "Oi!"

Rose rolled her eyes before turning to Willow, who scoffed in response. "No, I already covered for you today. I'll wait for you outside."

She huffed, snatching the bag from the security guard's fingers. "I'll be two minutes."

"You better be." It was going to be a cold night and London in the dark wasn't a nice place for women on their own. Not that Willow couldn't throw a good punch -- Jackie had taught her girls well. As she exited the shop, Willow yelled. "And if he tries flirting with you again, tell him I'll kick his arse!"

Rose waved her hand, grinning back at her from inside. "I will!"

She wandered across the road, glimpsing both ways as she clutched the strap of her shoulder bag. Stars shimmered in the twilight blue sky, slowly coming into view. As the world darkened, bright streetlamps flickered on, illuminating the street.

Willow leaned against a wall, pulling out her phone. She skimmed through her text messages and checked for any missed calls, but there was nothing new waiting for her. The young woman began to tire of waiting as the shroud of night hung over her slowly drooping head. 

Rose was taking ages with a task so simple. She wouldn't blame her if Wilson was chatting her up again, even though Willow had explicitly told him not to, considering her young age.

In the corner of her eye, she noticed something blue nearby. Willow turned her head to find a large phonebox tucked into the shadows. Light reflected against its windows, brightening its wooden exterior.

Her brows furrowed, gazing at it with a newfound curiosity. They crossed this street in the morning, and though the girls were in a rush to get to work, Willow could have sworn it wasn't there before. Perhaps it was for display -- something tourists can take pictures in front of. 

As far as Willow was concerned, there were no such things as "Police Public Call Boxes". There didn't need to be, considering most people can dial the police directly from their mobile phones.

There was this light tug, she could feel something pulling at her mind -- calling her in. Her gaze remained on the blue box, unaware that her body was starting to move on its own accord, drawing her closer. An invisible string wrapped itself around her waist, pulling her in. Her feet dragged against the pavement as she raised her arm. Without hesitation, Willow pressed her palm against the cracked wood -- and her eyes widened.

Her surroundings faded, a set of images taking her view. Pictures beyond comprehension flashed like lightning, sending the young woman reeling. She couldn't make out what she was seeing. Willow couldn't begin to understand the visions rushing through her mind.

Time is not a straight line -- that's what one picture tells her. Stars cross the night sky, burning bright as they fall to the ground. Planets of different colours take her fancy for a moment before she is quickly pulled into a different vision. Creatures of different shapes and sizes tugged at her arms, dragging her in every which way.

She fell through space as some kind of gravity yanked her down. Willow tumbled through a coloured vortex, hearing different voices call out her noises. Faces of people she's never met before -- they flicker like images on a projector. Soon after glimpsing them, Willow swiftly forgot what they looked like.

Suddenly, a burst of searing, gold light blinded her, sending her flying. Willow could feel herself levitating, her arms hanging limp. She couldn't fight back as an invisible force took hold of her.

Then came the black, and Willow was floating in this endless space -- this endless nothing. She couldn't feel anything. There was nothing around her to touch, no sights to see or any distinct smells wafting in the air.

There was just her, floating in this senseless limbo. With only her voice left to use, she screamed into the darkness -- and the darkness spoke back. "I bring life..."

Her body was thrown back, a sharp gasp escaping her throat. She coughed, her chest heaving. Willow bent over, clutching her shirt as she steadily recovered from the vision. Her skull pounded under her skin, her scalp tingling. She stared down at the familiar street pavement and knew she wasn't dreaming anymore. 

Her lip quivered, softly whimpering. "What the hell? What the hell? What the hell...?"

She thought the medication would work. Willow assumed the visions would end. She just wanted to be free -- was that too much to ask?

Willow's back collided with the wall, and she tucked her hands under her armpits, refusing to touch anything else. Another rough cough escaped her, her lungs tight and heavy. Slowly, she glanced back at the blue box and, as with the mannequin earlier, she felt it looking back.

The young woman shivered in cold, stumbling backwards. She didn't know what to think or feel -- those images didn't make the slightest bit of sense. She might hate her constant visions, but they were so tame compared to what she had just witnessed.

But that wasn't the end of it.

As she peered up at Henriks, a loud blast caught her off-guard. Willow lost her footing, tumbling to the ground. She landed on her backside, the pavement rumbling beneath her. Her head shot back up, watching her workplace get blown into smithereens. Windows shattered, glass flying everywhere. Flames roared and gathered by the ledges, burning what was left of the interior.

Why hadn't she seen that coming?

The fire spread, climbing up the walls. The shop window dummies were on the ground, their clothes burning. Thick, black smoke poured out as Henriks began to crumble.

A wave of fear washed over her, her skin paling. "Rose..." She stumbled back onto her feet, her eyes darting across the road. People were running and screaming, sprinting headfirst into cars. "Rose?!" There was no sign of her, and Willow's chest tightened, tears forming. "Rose!"

"Willow!" Her head snapped to the left, spotting Rose running down the street, her face in sheer panic.

She scuffed her shoes against the concrete, breaking into a quick jog. "Oh, my God -- Rose!" They crashed into each other's arms, Willow holding her little sister close. She was shaking in her thin, pink hoodie. "Are you okay?" She asked, pulling away so she could get a good look at her. Willow frantically brushed strands of blonde hair out of the girl's face, checking for any cuts and bruises. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm all right." She assured her, out of breath.

"God, I thought something happened to you." Willow embraced her once more, thanking the stars for keeping her sister alive. As they broke away, her attention was drawn to an object in Rose's hand. The flickering flames on the other side of the road illuminated the shiny plastic. "Why are you holding an arm?"

She looked down, blinking and stammering. "It's not mine."

"Uh," her jaw went slack, "yeah, I gathered."

With a free hand, Rose scraped her fingers through her tussled hair, slicking it back. "It doesn't matter -- let's just go."

Rose stepped in front of her, attempting to leave when Willow grasped her wrist. "Are you sure we should-?"

"Please, Will, can we just go home?" she pleaded with a troubled gaze.

Anyone with a brain could tell she was hiding something, but Willow didn't feel like prying at the moment. From the way Rose frantically tugged at her sister's arm, something told her they should leave as quickly as possible.

"Yeah, sure." The girls made their exit, taking each other's hands and sprinting down the street. As they passed the blue box, a prickling sensation hummed through Willow's body, only unsettling her more.

Willow didn't understand. Things were supposed to be getting better. God, that vision -- what the hell did that mean?

***

The first chapter is here!!!

If you've read the original version, you'll notice a few similarities here, such as the fallen mannequin and the appearance of a certain someone (with dialogue this time). I wanted to expand upon what happened that day and this is what I came up with. There are other changes as well, but those will be revealed in time.

Episodes are split up into separate chapters because I think it's easier for you all to read. That's just my opinion. It means more chapters and more space for character development.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you did, I would be so grateful if you left a vote or a comment. Thanks again xx

- Alice.