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She picked up the photo frame, pulling it out of the box slowly. It had a dark blue frame, with two young Black women hugging one another. The shorter had an afro, with golden earrings and dark brown eyes. The taller had blue braids piled on top of her head and was winking at the camera, her mahogany eye shining with mischief. Both of them were smiling widely, in matching purple tank tops. Behind them was a park full of greenery and trees, busy and alive with people.
Martha looked down at the photo within her hands sadly, brushing her thumb over the two women. She could barely remember being that girl in the photograph, even though it was not taken too long ago.
She could feel the echoes of the feelings that she once felt, as if her emotions had been slowed down and played on replay.
She wasn’t sure she could ever really be Martha again. She was Doctor Martha Jones now, and the unknown saviour of the Earth. Not that she wanted anyone else to remember that year. It was bad enough that her own family did, that they had to live with the consequences of what the Master did.
She was going through old boxes, from before she had her first flat, to see if there was anything good enough for the new one she was trying to find. Not much had survived the explosion, so it was mostly a nostalgia trip.
Martha sighed, and placed the photo into another box that sat by her side. She couldn’t imagine ever being that girl again, even if sometimes when she smiled, she felt as if she was merely a shadow of herself. That photo could remain in her Mum’s attic, along with her sixth form boyfriend and her terrible orange-green hair phase, that still made her wince on reflection.