Sybil Rose Beckett
Experiment #0002692
▇▇▇ Everyone Likes to Call Me:
Excuse me? Were you talking to me? Oh! They call me The Dreamer
▇▇▇ However, The World Marked Me As A:
Red capes, and Dashing smiles, I'm a Hero
▇▇▇ Count the Candles On the Cake:
I've blown out exactly Twenty Birthday Cakes.
▇▇▇ This Was My Story Before Becoming A Volunteer:
As far back as I can remember I was always dreaming. I was dreaming about different scenario's in life, different classes, even different carpets in my house. My Mom and Dad were always busy, giving me plenty of time to become this Idealistic person that stands before you. Why do you ask? I was always in charge of my siblings, which would make you think that I was the oldest right? No I wasn't, which made it even more frustrating. The line up went My Eldest brother Aberle, Brother Lowden, Me, My younger brother Kingsley, and the youngest Georgiana. I guess the role just fell on my shoulders around the age of eleven. Mom and dad both worked long hours and weren't home much. We did have a nanny from time to time but our parents thought it was better to have us take care of our own since Aberle was of age. He on the other hand, much preferred to either stay in with a group of friends or to go out with said friends. Either way, I was making sure that not only myself, but the others were in order. There was no telling Aberle that what he was doing was going to get him into trouble he didn't care. He just kept to one side of the house, while the rest of us the other. For years it went on just that way, Mom and Dad none the wiser. Mom was the kind of person who started with good intentions, but it soon grew into the idea of there wasn't enough, never enough. She would come home beat tired, cursing under her breath that there was so many mouths to feed, there were books that needed to be got, and with a single glance she would lock herself in her office and continue working. There was never enough money, never enough time, and never enough of well anything.
Mom seemed to take this with a grain of salt and just work harder, Dad on the other hand took this way different. He would come home from work and the first thing that would happen was Aberle or Lowden and him would get into some sort of argument. This would end up with one of my brothers at the end of a staircase or a bloody nose. Some nights were better, some worse, but whatever happened our Mother just pretended it didn't. She would ignore the going-ons and just lock herself away in her office and sink into her work. There was something about him that she just wouldn't confront. Like she just didn't want to let the idea of this happy family go, even thought her children would be better off without him. I would be the one to clean up the mess. The amount of broken vases and lamps I cleaned up were endless, and ounces of blood could have been donated to a hospital and received a golden amulet for them. During these times though is when I found time to think about what I wanted to do, that is what kept me going, the idea that there was something else, something more than this. From a young age I always dreamed of being a great writer. Any kind of writing, just so that It was important, it left an impact. For a shot time I wanted to be a reporter, a storm chaser, even a fashion journalist. Words were always my passion, and my own stories kept me occupied from the reality of it all.
One night when I was fifteen my Father came stumbling in, far more drunk that usual, and began his usual ritual. This time Kinsley was the victim, and when my Dad went to yank on his collar something in me snapped and I shoved him with all I could at the time. Nearly falling over he cursed and jerked around. Once he caught his balance he shouted, and the next think I knew I was on the ground looking up at all three of my brothers tackling my Dad. They pinned the man down to the ground and after being in the choke hold, he finally rested on the ground. The three of them flocked around me, and before I knew it I was crying over whatever had happened so fast. This time around, I ended up with the bloody nose and on the ground. When my Mom came out to see what had went on the only thing she could do was have my brothers help her carry Dad to bed. She didn't say anything, not a comment or comforting word one. After the destruction of the night was cleaned up, we all went to sleep. Early that next morning we all woke up to the sound of a honking car, rushing to the window we watched our Dad crawl into a cab an drive away. At the time we didn't know that was the last time we were going to see him.
After Dad left, Mom went into hyper drive. She was only home for a short time during the morning and barely at night. But even this got too much for her. There was something about my Dad she must have loved, but she started to spiral into a depression. She became virtually useless and all the money Dad and her had saved up started to gradually wither away. Every night I would come home from my part time job and like everyone before me, I would check the living room to make sure she was still breathing. The next step would be to clean up the mess and bottles left around. Even though the others did it from time to time all day, it still somehow got messy. As I cleaned up my mother would always hiss at me, telling me it was my fault father left, if I could have just left it alone then maybe he would have stayed. I tried not to let the drunk ramblings get to me, but I knew it would only be a few more drunk ramblings and throwing things until she would get that stare. It looked like she was going to cry, but then her face would turn cruel until she broke down and laid on the couch. I would leave the room because by this time I had taken on her responsibilities and if I didn't start dinner, who would? That was almost four years ago. I ended up graduating high school early just to be able to work full time. Which means I graduated with decent scores, but nothing spectacular enough to get me a full ride to anything. That wasn't my goal. If Aberle hadn't convinced me to finish it out I probably would have dropped out.
The house we lived in somehow between all of us we were able to keep going, but none of us knew for how long. This started to break me down, I mean, a rock can only take so much. Despite who I am now, I was for a brief time, Apathetic towards anything, everything, and it wasn't me. It confused me. It made me angry. No matter how hard I tried it seemed that the dreaming was gone, the future was bleak and I couldn't grab back at it. It went on for a few months like this. All that was in my future was this bleak grayness that was this terrible job and these miserable bills and this useless mother. But I knew I couldn't stop, and by then I was on auto pilot. Doing it for others, and not for myself. I had to make sure my siblings were okay, they needed to be able to stay safe, I mean two of them were still younger than me and the older two and I were the only things they had. We were their life support. We just couldn't stop. I knew there wasn't much hope at this point. Neither Aberle, Lowden or I had a college degree, so the trivial minimum wage jobs we had? They barely kept the rent up, yet alone anything else. This was a very different life that we were used to, this doing without? When we were kids- this wasn't how it was, and a lot of the time we just wanted to be kids again. I was always searching for a new job, in hopes that something better would come along, something that would help us. One day? It seemed like something actually happened for the best. Our troubles were taken from us, and virtually fixed. We didn't have to struggle, heck we had so much money coming in at the time that we could all go to school and not even worry about bills. It was a dream come true. Not to mention I could start working on my dream again. I was so excited to help the government because well, they had already helped me so much. I was first introduced to Dr. Morgan when she approached me at work. Waitressing at one of Centennial's many cafe's the woman casually began to chat to me like any other customer would, asking what I would recommend and that sort of thing. I remember to this day, she had notes spread across the table, and me being me, I had asked her what she was working on. The woman was smart, and for some reason she told me exactly what it was, and when she told me that I was one of those people she was searching for, it was literally life changing, in more than one way. This woman told me that I wasn't just a part of the crowd, I was special. I was unique, and she could prove it. The prospect of it was just was I needed.
I mean it took a little on my part but at that time it wouldn't have mattered if he wanted both my eyes and my heart. I would be able to start college wherever I chose without an issue of loans. I would have all my expenses fully paid, even my family. This would let me focus on anything I needed to at the time. It was a fantastic idea, an amazing dream, if you will. At that time it was like I was cured, instantly turned back into who I was, who I am now. It was like a rebirth, in more than one way. I was happy to assist the government and it's pursuits. Almost proud to be a part of this group they called us, the Project Alpha. I never noticed how ironic it was, the powers they gave to me. It took someone pointing it out to me to realize it actually. The ability to read minds, in a way it's like that book character, that lady with the Sixteen personalities, the one named Sybil. I never got a chance to ask why I was chose for that specific power though I've grown to love it, its now a part of me, yet I still wonder if it was some sort of joke. Either way I was eager to train, test and whatever they might have needed from me. The project was short lived, and when they announced it, I felt my whole body shatter. That security my family had? It was gone, and there wasn't anything I could do about it. Doctor Lombardi was furious, his whole life was ripped from him. The fourteen of us who were chosen were sent home, and though I was happy to see my siblings, I felt like it was just going to go back to what it was again, and I didn't want that. Before I left for home, I was told for compensation of staying quiet, there would be a sum of money that if I ever spoke of what had happened here, would not only be jerked from me, but I would also be branded as a traitor. I understood exactly what that meant, and I was okay with that, for the most part. I had been a part of something greater, and now I wanted to do something more. But luckily there was a change in plans. Dr. Lombardi decided that his life's work was going to continue, that the fourteen volunteers would be brought back again. Through training the group was divided into pairs which not only did they have the new developed gene, but they also had a bond. I was paired with Wyatt Grant, who at first I found to be more of a bother than a help. Not to mention on top of being able to read his thoughts our bond allowed me to actually feel the emotion with it. This was incredibly depressing, due to Wyatt being, well anti-social. Over time we have gotten better at working together, we actually are quite dynamic. Not to mention I'm grateful that he can't read my mind, because he would know how much I really adore him. Granted The Flirt is always trying shove me into situations like that anyway, he can't see it. I've never tried to make it obvious, but apparently I'm an open book to everyone but Wyatt. Despite that little bump in the road, we can function in the large house that the other heroes occupy very well. All of us have situated well over the last two years after the accident, and living together has turned into something that I really love.
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