Sylvia Main

[Sylvia Main]

INTRO:
You know that saying what do you want to be remembered for when it's all said and done? What kind of legacy you want to lave behind? It's a very intriguing question. I ask myself it everyday. What kind of person I am and if what I'm doing is good? Do I care if it isn't? Food for thought. Haha, anyways.... How you act defines you. Shapes you into the person you are. My past isn't special by any means but it's made me into who I am. I suppose it's only fair enough that some form of documentation is out there to help explain the things I've done. Why my legacy will be what it is.

[Sylvia Main]

CHILDHOOD:
Originally I was born and raised in the Midwest. ran around and built forts. Not much happened. But then my dad, Edward Main, received a promotion so we packed our bags and headed out to California. We moved into this little suburb right outside of Battery City. My dad worked as an insurance salesman for some company. Doesn't matter what it was, it was monopolized by BL/ind. My mother, Elsa, worked as an elementary school teacher. I was an only child so I played with the neighbor kids a lot. Rode bikes, shot pigeons with slingshots. I remember bawling when I realized we killed them. Haha, if only I had known... So, I went to school, got good grades, read books, drew pictures. Normal kid stuff. My parents enrolled me in piano lessons. That was fun. Hated recitals though. Stage Fright. Life was going pretty well until the war started up and the Great Fires began.

[Sylvia Main]

TEENAGE YEARS:
I was too young and niave to understand it at first. My life wasn't affected. My dad wasn't drafted and all the bombings took place over seas. It wasn't until highschool did I begin to take interest. I knew this wasn't going to end well, war never does. Then, before we knew it, America was getting bombed. Things changed to protect us. Cerfews were set, new medicine was created to treat radiation and burns. But how can you stop bombs that fall from no where and wipe out civilization in any form for miles around? You can't. I grew restless and opinionated. I resented the war and hated the massacre of innocents. Haha, I must've been a real pain in the neck for my parents. i grew to disagree with the governments new policies while they embraced them. I still did great in school but just before graduation I dropped out. Many things led up to this but one just pushed us all over the edge. My aunt and uncle in New Hampshire were killed in the latest bombing. My parents were devastated. I was too but I wouldn't admit it. I needed to get away. So, my dropping out and the deaths could only lead to one things. We had a huge aruguement. Lots of screaming involved. It ended with me packing a few belongings and moving out.

[Sylvia Main]

A NEW CHAPTER:
My money didn’t last long as I’d hoped. After a few weeks of spending the night in cheap motels I was flat broke. I tried to get a job but the war had caused the economy to rapidly decline. So I was homeless and penniless but too proud to move back in with my parents. So I went to a bar to spend the last of what I had and ended up meeting this man named Alexander Dien. We left together as good acquaintances and he let me stay in his shitty apartment. Eventually we became friends and after a few months he decided to allow me into his gang. I was iffy at first but then I met some of the members and we got along alright. Turned out they made some good money too.
I was eventually trusted enough to become a Ritalin Rat. Perhaps, before I go further, I should explain what- or rather WHO the Ritalin Rats are. They started out among the proles. When I had joined they were still fairly new. A group of people got together and began vandalizing BL/ind ships supplies. It grew to a few more people with more activities. Then it became recognized as the mob crime lord Eddy Lean. They made deals with druggies, stole money from the poor, all for their own benefit. I won’t say I wasn’t completely unaware of all this when I signed up but I couldn’t accept that what I was doing was immoral. As much as I hate to admit it, I only thought of myself.

[Sylvia Main]

THE BIGGEST MISTAKES:
Initiation was insane. I won’t even go into it except to tell you that it involved propane tanks and a goat. I didn’t enjoy it. Then there was the party afterwards. Haha, I honestly don’t remember much of that except getting incredibly intoxicated and sitting n the corner having a philosophical discussion with some young man. Anyways, I woke up in a cheap motel in the middle of the afternoon. But I had lost three days of memory. I found a note under my pillow from BL/ind.
Normally I wouldn’t talk about this but I guess you need to know it to know me. Plus, I feel some explanation is due. Apparently, I was pregnant. Or had been. God, this really awkward to tell you about but it needs to be said. See BL/ind doesn’t want the proles (the lower class who are more resilient to Better Living’s methods) to reproduce. But because of the war, population was low. BL/ind would take the fetuses, test tube grow them, then put them in foster care. That’s about it the extent of my knowledge and I don’t want to know any more. I was actually greatful for what they had done. Last thing I needed was some kid to screw everything up.
The next few years burred together. Raids, muggings, you name it, I probably participated in it. It’s something I regret most to this day. Time came when I was to be promoted. But I had to prove myself. Using some info from my good friend Eddy Lean I gathered a group. And we raided a pill factory. My sources told me everyone would be gone and we could steal what we wanted then burn the place. They lied.
We were ambushed. It was complete chaos. A disaster. We barely made it out. And only a third of us did. I lost four of my closest friends, two of which had a little girl, Fair Child. Oh God. That poor little girl. She stuck to me like glue despite the horrid rumors. They said I had blackmailed them and was paid off. I was literally shunned. I couldn’t take it so I resorted to my old routine: I left. I left for the only place left: The Zones.