All Clara really wants is to get away from all the lies, all the insincerity, all the twisted things that thrive in this poisonous environment. It is a beautiful, elegant soiree, a black tie affair in the ballroom of her new stepfather's mansion, but she just feels like screaming and running, running out of this stupid, claustrophobic life she has been thrust into so abruptly. She knows that once she started running, she could just keep on forever, never once stopping or looking back. She knows that she could spend the rest of her life in distant places, feeling the freedom under her toes, dancing beneath the stars, laughing and living and loving and having her breath taken away by wonders she can't even imagine.

Instead, she settles for making her way out of the crowded room onto the balcony. The cool air on her face is welcome, and she takes a moment to breathe it in. This is as close as she'll ever get to freedom, she guesses.

She turns her eyes upward, hoping to be able to trace the outline of the familiar constellations in the sky, but even the stars are different here. Right. She's two galaxies away from the only place that has ever felt like home. She doesn't belong here, not on this planet, not at this house, not at this party, not in this expensive dress and four-inch heels.

But it's not so easy as turning around and going home either. The dusty town on the planet two galaxies over is full of childhood memories. The old playground with the bright red swing, the library she spent her rainy afternoons in, her favorite coffee shop, the hospital where her mother worked. Her father's ghost now haunts each and every one of the places that made up her home. She's trapped between a place that she can't go back to and one she can't belong to. Getting married again might have been her mother's way of getting out, but all it has meant for Clara is a new sort of prison.

There's a sudden, high-pitched scream from behind her, followed by several crashing noises and more screams. She wheels around to look back inside. There's a commotion within, but it's hard to see anything distinctly until a man in a purple jacket and bowtie comes crashing through one of the large windows onto the balcony.

"Sorry!" He cries, scrambling backwards and then hopping a little until he's clear of the window. Then he sees her.

"Clara! Clara Oswald!" And before she has time to wonder how he knows her name, he's taken her face in both his hands and kissed her on the forehead.

"Who are you?" She demands, pulling away from him.

"Me? I'm the Doctor." He's interrupted by another crashing noise as a large, four-legged, dark red reptile with wings breaks through the window, heading directly for them.

Clara stares. "That's a- that's impossible!"

"Yeah," the Doctor says, "I know. It's a dragon." He grabs her hand and pulls her along, down the stairs, away from the house. "Run!"

And she does.