The Beginning (Of Your Life).

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Ah yes. The good old suburban home. White elegant walls, simple but charming curtains, a row of picture perfect fences... The quaintness would certainly not be lost on any fellow neighbors who walked by, and it certainly wasn't missed by the married couple inside.

The Rivers are a content, middle-class couple who live in an average-sized house with an adorable cat. Although the two are most definitely happy with each other, there is something... missing from their halls.

A beautiful bundle of unpredictability and sunshine, with a laugh that lights up any room. A child. Although they have been trying for a while, they couldn't seem to successfully conceive one.

Until 1980.

Mrs. River had been blessed with joyous news; a healthy baby would grace their household next year. Of course the Rivers set about, frantically decorating, renovating, and proofing the household to make way for their newest addition.

By the way the floorboards creaked at the slightest touch, it seemed like even the house was anxious. Of course, the cat leaped each time the house would make the slightest sound, determined to be a dutiful bodyguard for its future "sibling".

Finally, December 25th, 1941 arrived. Christmas gifts were being exchanged, but the couple was nervously waiting for their biggest gift. And it soon came: A healthy, peaceful baby. Mrs. River couldn't help but hold the child with the upmost glee. Her baby, finally, her own baby. And such a lovely-looking one too!

As the doctors went to perform basic checkups on the baby, they observed something strange.

The baby didn't not cry, but it was most certainly alive. It had a serene expression on its face in fact, like it was drifted off into another world entirely. Although strange, the doctors did not question their healthy testing results and sent the child home with its parents.

As the Rivers set the baby down in its crib, it began to babble.

"Babbling, this early? [Y/N] should be sound asleep..." Mr. Rivers scratched his head, and went over to check on the irregular child.

More babbling came, but it sounded more like a soft, incoherent song rather than gurgling gibberish.

Soon, the stress from the night washed away.

The Rivers felt tired.

The cat was due for a nap.

The house was ready to go back to inactivity.

And they all fell asleep, one by one. The child, [Y/N], was left all by themself. Themself and their dreams, that is.

...

The next morning, the Rivers, the cat, and the house woke. The married couple looked at each other. "Our child has our abilities, right Mark?" Mrs. River's voice was as shaky as a leaf in fall.

Mr. River couldn't respond. Mrs. River could only lean her head into his chest, and sob.

"We have to hide them too... somehow... some time... I'm not sure when."

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1951, Mrs. Berry's science classroom.
(1ST PERSON.)

I slowly blink as I register my surroundings. All my classmates are staring at me, and the teacher is gazing at me with an expectant look on her face.

Oh yeah. She asked me a question didn't she?

I've been falling asleep or spacing out in class since forever, but my grades only suffered a little because of my friends helping me with the notes. But it's not only class. At my home, in the car, in the park, I often drift off to another world entirely.

It seems I spaced out this time. I kind of want to do it again because the world I dreamt of this time was gorgeous-

"[Y/N]. Are you going to answer my question? What is an invasive species?" Oh right.

I open my mouth to speak, "An invasive species is an animal with no natural predators in an area..." I look around as I answer. There's a reason why my classmates like me so much.

Or reasons. Maybe it's because of how soft my voice is. Maybe it's because of my vivid descriptions of my dreams. Maybe it's because I naturally put them at ease.

Or maybe it's because I put them fast to sleep.

My classmates eyes droop, and I hear a few yawns near the back. One kid who had their head down is quietly snoring. My teacher isn't faring much better. She nods her head as if she can process what I'm saying, but she has to down more than half of her coffee to do it.

I finish speaking, and my classmates look a little less sleepy. Some who were on the brink of sleep seem to catch a hold of themselves. The teacher regains her composure and continues the lecture.

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1951, the Rivers' house.
(1ST PERSON.)

"[Y/N]. Could you come over here, please?" I trot over to my smiling mother. Smiling with her eyes, that is. I never understood why my parents always wore masks.

"You put your classmates to sleep quite often, yes?" I reluctantly nod my head. "Listen, sweetie. You have a special gift that your father and I also have. That's why we wear these masks."

She points to her own decorated one. It is mostly shamrock colored, with simple ivory lettering that reads, "Rest assured, I am smiling." I always found it pretty, and it complimented dad's scarlet one. She holds up a small mask in my favorite color, and fits it around my ears.

"From now on, when you wear this, your classmates won't fall asleep anymore. But everyone might struggle to hear you."

"It's okay, though. Sometimes calm silence is exactly what one needs to reflect on themselves."

"If anyone ever asks you, tell them you have a genetic, chronic disease. One that could be dangerous to others around you. Your life may be very lonely from now on..."

She hugs me.

"But you have us, my sweet baby."

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word count: 978

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