And I guess another story...? Sorry I just had to get this off my shoulders. Yes, Eleven. Because he has a better sense of humor. (No offense, Capaldi.) And because I had a rough day today and I wish I could give Matt Smith a big hug. :( like that'll happen. Eh, whatever. Just read. And enjoy. And review. If you want.

Name: Clara Oswald

Age: 14

Today was a truly awful day. Clara lost something dear to her. Something she had only known for three days, but still, it was hard to let it go. This is how her day had gone:

She went to school, tried her best to stay awake, and then had come home. Her friend Nina had come along with her, as usual. John was getting a ride from his aunt or whatever, and would arrive later. So Clara and Nina walked up the hill, Clara's blue bag filled with rope and duct tape. And some snacks. By the time they reached the top of the hill, they were slightly tired. They walked the couple of yards to the small trail they had created while looking through the forest on Friday.

Today was Monday. The third day she had come to work on Gallifrey. (Saturday they couldn't come up because they left on a trip to an amusement park. No one went with Clara on the roller coasters, though.) Gallifrey was their small fort in the woods. It was a perfect spot, with vines and trees surrounding the clearing they had used to call their second home. Well, they thought it was a perfect spot. Until today.

They reached their makeshift trail. They lifted their arms up so they'd be safe from the prickers, and were both wearing jeans to protect their legs. Clara smiled at the sight of their small half-built fort. Her smile wore off as she noticed a man dressed in a camo suit approach them. It nearly scared them half to death, as no one had ever found their fort before.

The man stopped a yard in front of them. He was wearing a camo mask, so his facial features were impossible to see. "Guys, this is the cemetary's property. You're not supposed to be here, and there are three hunters in these woods right now. It's dangerous. You're lucky you ran into me instead of the owner of the cemetary. He doesn't take kindly to trespassers. Likely to give you a ticket," he said. His voice betrayed only warning, not disrespect.

Clara's jaw almost dropped. She looked from her fort, the string and duct tape and rocks all where they had left them, to the man in the camo suit. Nina looked dumbfounded. Dang. It's bow season, Clara growled in her mind. She sighed. "Okay, thanks. Sorry," she said.

The man nodded and stalked over to his bush where he was hiding. Clara looked to Nina and nodded sadly, their cue to leave. So they ran out from the woods, not caring if the prickers scraped them up. They ran down the trail, to the pavement of the road leading up the hill. Once they reached the pavement, Clara sat and groaned loudly. She buried her head in her lap and cried silently.

She had been dying to build that fort, and it was coming along so nicely... and now... Never to be gone back to again. In the back of her mind, a voice had said, What happens when you won't be able to come back here, Clara? What then? Is this really a good idea? That was on Friday. After they all agreed to meet up there every day, if they were available.

Nina sat down beside her, being quiet for once. The girls looked up as the sound of John's crazy aunt's car zooming up the hill. She slammed on the brakes, the sound causing Clara and Nina to recoil. John stepped out of the car, his floppy brown hair seeming to glow in the light of the sun. He called a thanks to his aunt, who immediately turned on screeching tires and rode back down the hill.

When he caught sight of the girls' expressions, his normal cheery grin was replaced by a confused frown. Clara couldn't help herself and flung herself into the fifteen-year-old's arms, burying her face in his shirt. He fumbled for words, his confusion too much for him. So he gently took Clara's shoulders and peeled her off of him, looking into her wet eyes.

"Clara, what happened?" he asked.

A tear rolled down Clara's cheek and she said, "We can't go back to Gallifrey."

The shock was evident on his face. "What? How?" He got no answers. Clara stuck her earbuds in and listened to her favorite songs, shutting herself out from the world. She turned and stomped on down the hill, leaving John and Nina to follow slowly behind. Clara was sure Nina was explaining everything to John.

They arrived at Clara's house soon after.

That was the worst part of her day. And now she was currently sitting on her couch with John's arm around her shoulders, watching The Fault in our Stars. She cried when (SPOILER ALERT) Gus died, and his letter/epilogue of An Imperial Affliction to Hazel, and John may have shed a tear or two.

"I'm so sorry, Clara," John said soon afterward, when Clara was crying into her pillow. They were in her room, surrounded by posters of the same white wolf with red swirly markings and just regular wolves howling at the moon.

John placed his hand over Clara's back, trying to calm her down. The last month had been torture; with things ranging from dropping her phone in the pool to losing her mom. Her dad was barely ever home, due to work and travel.

"Gosh," John said, crawling onto the bed and laying next to Clara. "The world can be so cruel sometimes. You don't deserve this, Clara. You really don't. If the world was a person, I would beat it up over and over again until it made the right bargains, you know?"

It didn't really help at all to lighten Clara's mood. "The world doesn't make bargains," she sniffed.

John let that sink in before answering, "Well, it brought me to you, didn't it?" he asked.

Now, Clara and John were not originally planning on dating. But it was that night that they had shared their first kiss.