Title- Earth Death
Show- Doctor Who
Disclaimer- They dance for me. But I am no organ grinder.
Summary- The reason Rose fled on Platform one.
Rose thought that she had been handling it all so well.
She’d managed to conceal her unease as the stranger called “the Doctor” announced with almost sadistic glee that they were there to watch the Earth burn.
She’d accepted that, in the future, aliens could be blue and short and rude.
She’d barely blinked as the Doctor pulled a Jedi mind trick on the Steward and fooled him into believing that they were guests.
She’d contained her growing discomfort as bird-men handed her eggs and trees offered her twigs and fat blue aliens spat in her face.
Rose had even managed to hide her annoyance as the Doctor laughed at her confusion and flirted with walking branches.
But this—this was just too much.
As the Steward announced the final guest Rose had braced herself, but nothing could have prepared her for this.
The Last Human.
The sliding doors from which the guest had emerged slid open one more time to admit a large metal frame with a piece of canvas stretched taut across the middle. Two men in surgical outfits wheeled in the rest of the contraption which held a brain in a jar sitting just underneath the canvas.
No, it wasn’t canvas. It was skin. Skin with a mouth and eyes and…
This was the last human?
Rose stared in shock as the mouth of Lady Cassandra began to speak.
“Oh, now, don't stare. I know, I know, it's shocking, isn't it? I've had my chin completely taken away and look at the difference! Look how thin I am.”
Rose blinked, her mind whirring.
Human? This was supposed to be her own species this…this… trampoline? Was this what the human race became?
She was aware of the Doctor laughing beside her and had to move away. Did he think this was funny? It wasn’t in the slightest.
“Thin and dainty! I don't look a day over two thousand. Moisturize me, moisturize me.”
One of the men in white sprayed something onto the woman and Rose edged closer, morbid curiosity as much as dread drawing her ever nearer.
“Truly, I am The Last Human. My father was a Texan. My mother was from the
Rose paused as she edged around the two surgeons.
Wait a minute. Hold on. Arctic desert? Rose frowned. That wasn’t right.
Even if the ice caps melted, like they said on Newsround, it’d still be really cold surely—no deserts, right? Or was that just something else that she didn’t know?
Rose stared at the stretched piece of skin as it continued its reminiscences.
Now that she was behind it -her-, Rose realised that she was so thin, so taut that she was practically transparent. The only substantial thing on Lady Cassandra was her pouting lips.
So, Rose thought, this is where the human quest for being skinny gets us? From Victoria Beckham to streaky bacon here.
This thing wasn’t human. It was just…flesh.
It made her feel sick.
Rose was brought back to attention as Cassandra mentioned gifts and brought in:
“From Earth itself - the last remaining ostrich egg. The Ostrich was made extinct in the Great Bird Flu of 2051. Legend says it had a wingspan of 50 feet and blew fire from its nostrils. Or was that my third husband?”
As everyone laughed Rose frowned. That wasn’t true—an ostrich didn’t do that, they buried their heads in the sand. And 2051? There was only 50 years before there were no more ostriches?
Rose had never even seen one; a wave of sadness flooded her.
“And here, another rarity.”
Rose was pushed aside as a 1950’s jukebox was wheeled in.
“According to the archives, this was called an iPod. It stores classical music from humanity's greatest composers. Play on!”
As Tainted Love filled the room Rose felt the overwhelming urge to scream. ipod? Greatest classical composers?
How could they have got things so wrong?
Surely with all the internet and books and flaming reality docu-soaps there had to be some accurate archives.
They were getting it all wrong.
This flap of skin said she was proud to be the last human but she didn’t even look like one. She didn’t know anything about the Earth—none of them did.
And, it occurred to Rose; they didn’t care.
Rose stared at the various aliens who had gathered, who had paid, to watch a planet burn, for fun, for entertainment.
They scuttled and spat and cackled and lived in steam and were walking talking trees, for goodness sake, and their idea of a good time was to watch her home—a place they knew nothing about- watch it burn.
They were alien, they were so alien. Not just faces and tentacles and branches but inside.
The Earth waited outside that window, millennia of history, people, continents, geography, discovery, ambition and facts and figures and there was no one left to remember it the way it was. No one who cared.
“Refreshments will now be served. Earth Death in 30 minutes.”
Earth Death. The end of the world. The End of her world. Why the hell had the Doctor bought her here? Of all the places, of the entire universe he takes her to see her own planet die. He takes her see that, in the end, no one cares whether the earth lives or is consumed in fire. In that second she hated him, more than any of the others.
She had never felt more alone. She could no longer stand it. This wasn’t how it should end; this wasn’t how the Earth should be remembered.
It should be watched by someone who loved it, someone who had lived on it and someone who would mourn its passing.
She couldn’t do that here, surrounded by these creatures.
Heart racing and hands shaking, Rose turned on her heel and walked away.