[Rebecca Thomas]

Becca walked into the recreation building, it was one of the best rooms here, mostly because there was nothing in particular you had to do in here, she sat on one of the beanbags and had a glance round the room so she could get a better look at what others were doing and what she could do.

Reading, some old toys for the smaller ones, an ancient tv set, and that was pretty much it, she sighed, flopping backwards so she was lying on the floor. Becca was bored, she needed something to do.

[Hikaru Aizawa]

There was very little to do in the spare time offered at the Facility, and the sad fact was that there was a lot of it. Hikaru Aizawa brushed back a few flyaway hairs from her eyes, securing them with a hair pin before pushing open the door to the Recriation room. So ironically named, yet no patient really seemed to point out this fact to the staff. It hadn’t changed in all the years the young Asian had been there, right down to the decrept TV set in the corner, emitting faint crackles over the people speaking on screen, figures fuzzy outlines and blurred colours. Hikaru had never liked TV much; when she had been sat around it with a huddle of other children she really didn’t see the point in it. Or maybe it was the fact the bad quality made it impossible to understand...

With the barest of sighs, Hikaru made her way over to the bookshelf full of worn down biographies and paper-back novels that one would probably buy at a train station; trashy romances and smut. Carefully, slender fingers freed a haphazardly repaired hardback autobiography entitled ‘Dancing Shoes’. Flopping back onto a beanbag, ignorant to the older girl occupying another, she licked her thumb and carefully flipping the pages. Hikaru could read and speak perfect English; being raised in the Facility had robbed anty chances of the girl speaking her mother tongue. A small smile graced her features as she chanced upon the glossy pictures, ballet dancers on graceful point or bowing to an audiance in their frilly tutus’.

Dancers had always facinatec Hikaru, whether it be their infinate grace or always apparent beauty, she wasn’t entirely sure. At the age of six, she’d had to share a room wih a new arrival of the same age who hadn’t quite come to terms with being there. She’d been a dancer; as a way of hopefully cheering her up Hikaru had asked her to show her. It had been amazing, to Hikaru’s ignorant existance, to see someone move with such poise and awe inspiring grace, barely missing a beat in the rhythem she’d invented for herself. A few weeks later, the child was moved to another wing. Hikaru never did find out what happened to her...

Idly playing with the dark plait that draped over her shoulder, the girl sighed. Stop being so pessimistic... her parents probably came back for her! Yeah! Why was she dwelling on the past? Maybe because there seemed to be so little future beyond the Facility...