"Attention, class! Your attention, please!" Mrs. Collins shouted above the din. As the room quieted down, she continued. "As you know we have an open house coming up." She paused for the usual whispers of anticipation from the kids. "I would like you all to make a card to place at your desk for the potential mothers and fathers who will be coming around. You make draw whatever you like on the front of the card. On the inside I would like you to write a little bit about yourself. It may be as long or as short as you wish, but do keep in mind that this could influence your chance of being asked to stay with a foster family for the upcoming holidays."

A murmur of excitement ran through the room. Going to a foster family meant real presents at Christmas, not just practical items like clothing. Real gifts! Toys! Dee sat in her seat, saddened with this prospect. Why should she care to stay with people she didn't know? They'd buy her dolls, make her wear stupid ruffled dresses and go to church.

"Dee? Is there a problem with the assignment?"

Dee straightened in her chair. "No, Mrs. Collins."

"Then I would appreciate you keeping whatever nasty thoughts are running through that mind of yours to yourself!"

The class, who had all been watching her closely, now burst into laughter at the sight of her blushing. Dee wanted nothing more right then other than the floor to open and swallow her down. Perhaps she would find herself in a new place, like the one she was reading about in that book. She could watch the lion and the unicorn fighting and take tea with the March Hare and the Mad Hatter. But for now she would do the required assignment.

~ ~ ~ "Is this supposed to be a joke, Ms. Lemma?" Mr. Packard asked waving her card under her nose.

"No, Sir," she murmured.

"Then what is it?"

"It's my card, Sir. Mrs. Collins said we had to..."

"I know very well what the assignment was, Ms. Lemma. This is a mockery of what we are trying to do for you!" Roughly, he opened the card and read out loud from it. "'My name is Dee Lemma. A dilemma is a problem, just as I am thought to be. Don't bother with me because I'll just blow something you value up or singe all the hair off your dog with my homemade flea and tick shampoo. If you still feel like I'm worth your time, please don't buy me any stupid dolls. I would prefer puzzles and books.'"

Mr. Packard crumbled the card in his fist, ruining the picture she had drawn on the front of her feline friends. When he spoke again, his voice trembled with the rage he was holding in.

"Ms. Lemma, not only will you be withdrawn from the list of available children, but you will not be going anywhere for the special Christmas trip. Instead you will write an apology to Mrs. Collins for your behavior. Once you have done that you will spend the entire Christmas holiday cleaning each and every classroom in between helping out in the kitchen."

"Yes, Sir," she replied keeping her eyes on her hands folded in her lap. "May I be excused, please? I have some homework to finish."

In answer he opened his door and waved her out.

Dee hurried past him and ran directly out into the cold, crisp air of the late Gotham fall. Off in the corner where she fed her cats, she crumpled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest as she cried. It wasn't very often she let herself cry, but this time she couldn't hold it back. As she cried, shadows fell over her. Try as she might to ignore them, the quartet would not leave her alone. One nudged her in the back with a shoe, lightly at first, harder when she refused to respond.

"Leave me alone," she said attempting to gain control of her tears.

"What's the matter, Problem?" one asked chiding.

"I said leave me alone."

"And if we don't? What are you gonna do about it? Put fleas on us from those mangy fleabags you play with?"

The group laughed as Dee stood up and surrounded her. There was two boys and two girls, all the same age as her. At once they shoved her around the circle they formed. She didn't fight back, instead letting herself be thrown between the others.

"Problem child! Problem child!" they chanted.

When they made to shove her again, she ducked, balling a fist up and ramming it into the crotch of the nearest boy. He howled in pain as the others tried to grab her. One of the girls managed to get an arm around Dee who immediately sunk her teeth into the girl's flabby arm. The girl screamed swinging at Dee's head. Again Dee ducked and instead of the punch landing on Dee, it landed on the other girl who had been coming to help the first. Breaking away from the group, Dee ran for all she was worth. Shouts followed her as she bolted up to her bunk, throwing open her clothes chest.

There wasn't much time before they would come after her, this she knew. She had a small backpack into which she stuffed a couple sweaters, her folder she had stolen from the office one day, a plush cat and the remaining packet of cat treats. Throwing the bag on, she grabbed up her jacket and ran out of the room. In the main hall she slowed and tried to make it look as if she were just going outside. A commotion caused her to look over her shoulder in time to see Mr. Packard hurrying toward her.

"Not this time," she mumbled to herself as she ran to the front door.

Crashing out the front doors Dee ran into the street, dodging the cars that screeched to a halt to avoid hitting her. She did not look back as she ran further from the Westside Gotham Orphanage and into the unfamiliar city.

On the sidewalk in front of the orphanage Mr. Packard watched her go, a few staff members gathering around him.

"Shouldn't someone go after her?" one asked.

Mr. Packard shook his head. "No. She'll be back. It's cold and she'll be hungry in a couple hours."

The staff agreed and they turned to follow Mr. Packard back into the warmth of the orphanage.
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