Once upon a time there was a little girl named Poppy Nightingale. Poppy was a young girl who had dirty blonde hair and eyes that were a deep blue, just like the ocean. She was an orphan for as long as she could remember, jumping from foster home to foster home. At most foster homes she was treated horribly and ran away, whereas at the ones she liked something would always happen to the foster parents. For example when she was five years old she lived with the Smith family who had two children, one daughter Iris and one son Frank.
Everyone in the family was very kind to her considering she never had a real family. On August 25, her sixth birthday, she was given an amulet. "It is a peridot amulet," the mother said. "That is your birthstone."
"Oh, and it opens up," Iris exclaims opening it up to reveal a photo of the family. To Poppy's surprise she is in the photo, then she realizes that the photo was taken just last week. "Do-do you like it?"
"Like it? I love it," Poppy almost yells in excitement as she runs and hugs everyone.
No less than two weeks after the family is in a terrible accident and Poppy is the only one who survived. After that Poppy was moved to several other homes and just like the Smith's every home that she liked and was nice to her something terrible would happen. A few years later on her tenth birthday she decided it was enough so she just ran away. Away from all of the foster homes, away from all of the sadness, away from all of her troubles.
One day as she was running she noticed a storm was coming so she decides to look for some shelter when she sees almost in the middle of nowhere that there is a big hollow tree. She looks around only to see nothing else in sight so it is the only place she can hide from the storm. While there she somehow falls asleep to the sound of the storm, and that is where our story begins.