Log File 1- Dr. Lucille Sinclair

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Who do I credit for this?  Okay, I do not own the SCP Foundation. 

To be honest, I really had no clue what we were walking into, when we went into that house.  All we knew is that there was an anomaly inside, and a rather disruptive one at that.  A baby, but a baby that could teleport.  That was a new one for me, and I've been a researcher for a year. 

She reminded me of my baby niece, somewhat, when I first saw the child.  God, I miss her.  And my sister.  I hope that they're together, in Heaven.  Both of them, especially after what I saw of them after the car crash.  It was so bad that open-casket wasn't even a viable option for the funeral.  Maybe that's why I did what I did, just now.  Maybe I'll be demoted, maybe I won't.  I just didn't want to lock up a literal baby. 

Back to the log.   I'm not writing this for the Foundation.  I'm not writing this for anyone else to see, actually.  This is my record, left behind in case I die somehow.  I want someone to know that we're not all heartless.  That I have empathy, buried underneath six solid months of training and a year of work.  Work that I'm not proud of, but had to be done. 

The house was normal, really.  The parents were away, or adoptive parents, really.  We did some digging on this one, to wipe any records of the anomaly.  Adopted as a newborn by this couple.  It felt wrong to take a kid away from people who couldn't have their own.  But it's them or my job, and I picked my job.  The amnestics wiped their memories of her anyway.  We even took care of anything on social media.  Wouldn't want anyone inquiring about the missing child. 

Did I say her?  The real report will say It, not she.  Pronouns are important to me.   If I stick around, I know that this baby will have at least one person who treats her like a normal child.  Although, we can count on Simon to be good as well.   We wouldn't have taken him in if he wasn't.  Poor kid ran off, his parents were part of some GoI.  How he knew about the Foundation, we'll never know. Which group of interest, I don't know either.  We took him in like a month ago.  We'll be paying for his college, since he wants to major in psychology. We're in short supply of both good people and psychologists at this site.

I was with the Task Force, getting some field experience.  The higher-ups figured this mission would be safe enough.  And it was.  Kid didn't even cry.  Just stared at us, with eyes that I'll never forget as long as I live.  One dark grey, and the other a piercing shade of light blue.  And the hair.  White, with black streaks all throughout, in a little tuft that mirrored what my niece looked like.  Unless this couple is really weird and dyed a baby's hair, this is actually natural.

Only time will tell, I guess.  We can't really run experiments yet, since she's not old enough to follow directions.   I talked with my boss, Dr. Bright, as well.  He might be a little crazy, but he's a great leader who saw my plan and ran with it.  To raise the kid to be a member of staff.  The possibilities are endless.  Imagine how easy containment breaches would be to solve if someone could teleport it back to it's cell. 

We could train her with 5094, the AI teacher thing.  From my training days, I know that Miss J is an amazing teacher.  She would know how to contain things, and how to research things, when she's old enough.  Dr. Bright said 15 was old enough to begin working.   I said 18 was old enough.  We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I suppose. 

I'm giving her a name.  Normal kids have names.  I have a name, its Lucille.  I hope someone, someday, will remember my name.  Maybe Alita will.  That's what I'm calling the kid we stole.  I hope it catches on.  I think, somewhere in the facility, a containment cell is being readied.  But I don't know a single thing about her anomaly.   I suppose it has to do with reality, or something like that.  I wouldn't know.  I'm only a Junior Researcher. 

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