Dia's Perspective:

"The sun is shining, birds are chirping, and children need waking!" Madam Posh said, like always. "Now get up and ready! Breakfast is waiting!" I laid in bed still, my eyes wide open, still as a stone. I had a dream, the same dream I have every night but never remember... What was it?! I racked my brain trying to remember the dream. I have never remembered my dream before, but I feel like I really need to, and that it contains vital information that I need to know. I finally got up, but wasn't really paying attention to what I was doing. I thought hard about my dream, but realized it was too late to remember anything, and it was lost again. I bumped into a table and looked around in surprise, finding out that I had somehow made my way to the orphanage's dining room.

Madam Posh's Perspective:

Dia entered the room with a dreamy look on her face. I watched as the girls sitting by me whispered to each other. "Watch out, the mad girl's coming in!" I heard them say, and pursed my lips. I didn't do anything about it, though, because it seemed like Dia was mad! THUMP! I looked up quickly, seeing that Dia had bumped into the dining table, and oatmeal had been splattered on many girls' dresses by the table's movement. Everyone in the room shot looks at Dia, and if looks could kill, she'd be dead on the spot. 

I shook my head softly at Dia, wondering what was going through her mind as she looked around in confusion and turned red, quickly sitting down after that. I worried for that child's future, for it must be a strange one, what with her strange family's death and her strange behavior.

Dia's Perspective:

I realized everyone was looking at me and turned red, and, not wanting to attract more attention, I sat down as fast as I could. I hated attention, because it never really was a good kind when aimed at me. Madam Posh finished breakfast first after we said grace, and she went to get the mail. While she was gone, I ate my oatmeal quickly, trying to avoid everyone, hoping they won't notice me. Luckily, they were all too busy talking to really pay attention to me. 

Madam Posh came back before I knew it, and she handed me the letter she held in her hands. The room went silent. I froze. Who would write to me? It wasn't like I had any relatives that I know of. With my hands shaking, I fumbled to open the letter. A girl shouted out, "Who sent it?" Lilo, the girl sitting next to me, grabbed it.

UNFINISHED CHAPTER