Dream Journal

A Dream About Doctor Who

I had this dream a while ago — I can’t remember the exact date — about the end of the world.
Incidentally, I have a lot of those… I wonder why.

The world was going to end, but nobody knew it. Nobody except one person: the Doctor.

Yes, that Doctor — the time-traveling alien from the BBC show Doctor Who. I wouldn’t call myself a fanatic, but I do love the series and have watched plenty of seasons. My first Doctor was Matt Smith (introduced to me through the Van Gogh episode that my high school art teacher played in class). But if I’m being honest, David Tennant is my favorite. And it was his face that appeared in my dream.

The Doctor and his beloved Rose appeared to me — and to a massive crowd of others — searching for someone. I was ecstatic to see them. We were gathered in what looked like a school gymnasium, though I noticed people from all over the world. I heard a kaleidoscope of accents: British, Irish, Scottish, Indian, South African, and many more. It was loud, chaotic, and buzzing with excitement.

The TARDIS stood quietly in the corner, its blue frame almost like a sentinel beside the bleachers. Meanwhile, fans swarmed the Doctor with their phones out, demanding selfies. I had this feeling that we were about to be “tested” somehow, but at first the Doctor just let the frenzy play out until Rose whispered something in his ear.

He straightened, clapping his hands.
“Alright, may I have everyone’s attention!”

The gym fell quiet, almost reverent.

“I apologize for bringing you all here,” the Doctor began. “I know you’re confused — well, I imagine all of you are. I know you were just going about your daily lives when suddenly you—”

Rose smacked his shoulder, and he winced. “Right. Sorry. Allow me to introduce myself: I’m the Doctor.”

The crowd erupted with chatter. Rose rolled her eyes. “And I’m Rose. We don’t have much time.”

“’Course we do!” the Doctor grinned. “Though I am asking for a bit of yours. If you’d like to return to where you were before, please speak up now.”

Some did. The Doctor assured them it was fine and popped them back home instantly.

Then Rose clapped her hands. “Alright, everyone else — clear the middle of the room. Back up. Get cozy.”

And that’s when the tests began. They were strange and disjointed — like riddles, puzzles, or pulling items off a table. Dream logic. People were gradually sent home until maybe 30 of us were left.

As a “treat,” the Doctor invited us into the TARDIS. (And yes — it looked exactly like it does on the show. My subconscious was very accurate on that part.) We got a tour, though I still never spoke directly with him, which feels like a missed opportunity for a dream.

Then Rose brought out a tall mirror.

“This mirror,” she explained, “shows you a complete reflection of yourself. And I do mean complete, in every sense of the word. Each of you will look, then return to the gymnasium to reflect on what you’ve seen.”

People lined up like kids at Disney World. Most treated it lightly, snapping selfies and laughing before drifting away.

When my turn came, I expected something dramatic, maybe even terrifying. A shadow-self. My fears and secrets. Something ripped from my subconscious.

But it was just… me.

I saw myself in jeans, a turtleneck, denim jacket, and boots. My brown-red hair clipped back, freckles scattered across my face, brown eyes exactly the same. Maybe my weight was different, but otherwise, it was simply me.

And as I looked at my own reflection, I felt something unexpected: peace.
The thought that crossed my mind was, “You know… it’s actually okay to be me.”

That realization stayed with me when I woke up.

When the mirror test was over, the Doctor and Rose gathered the remaining group. Only eight of us were left.

“I’m afraid I have bad news,” the Doctor said gravely. “A world-ending event is coming. Very soon. And the only way to stop it… is with your help. But the cost will be your lives.”

The gymnasium went silent.

I don’t remember how the others reacted. Outrage? Denial? Maybe laughter. But I know how I felt: despondent. Still, I stayed.

I stood up and said, “The way I see it, everyone dies. There’s no escaping that. But it’s a privilege to choose when and how to die. Even better if it’s for a good cause.”

And then — I woke up.

Stupid, right?

Except it still resonates with me. That one line — my dream-self’s words — has stuck with me: It’s okay to be me. And if I get to choose how I face the end, even better if it’s in service of something greater.

I like to think that, dream or not, we went on one last adventure with the Doctor and Rose. Not rushing to our doom, but traveling through time and space until we were ready. Because that was the gift we were given:
a chance to choose our time.