Author Note: This is my first Fallout 4 story, I've been drafting paper versions for years and this crap came to me in a dream; so I kind of just ran with it. I haven't started writing the actual story of the F!SS being out in the wasteland. There are topics and things in these first four chapters that might be difficult for some people and might trigger others. Last bit, the format of the first four chapters is more like listening to a holotape recording. In the dream I had, my sole survivor character was narrating these through like black and white scenes.
That's all I've got to say. Read, review and please be kind. No one has ever learned anything from flame reviews. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout 4 or Bethesda or any of the other things that are realworld oriented.
Holotape Recording - October 19, 2057
I wouldn't remember this day although my parents, Edmund and Elizabeth, would talk about it with nostalgia in their voices and tears in their eyes whenever the topic was brought up amongst family and friends. My sister, Esther, was already six years old by this time; when I was born. That's why this date is so important to my parents. It's the day that I was born, six weeks, bringing an end to a very tumultuous pregnancy. They didn't think that I would make it. My mother was very ill as well at the time but we both managed to pull through. My parents named me Sofia Dorothy Quincy.
I guess you could say that I had a good childhood. We had a nice house on Scott Street with a huge backyard. I kind of remember that it was a blue house with a wrap around porch. There was an ice cream truck that drove around the neighborhood during the summer giving out ice cream to the kids. My sister said we had nice neighbors and that we lived on a quiet street. According to her, most of the families were military like us.
Dad was an officer in the Army but since we lived close enough to his base, he was home more often than the other army dads that we knew. He always said he was working on a secret project at work and that he couldn't talk about it at home, which my little kid-self thought was pretty cool. I thought my daddy was a super-secret spy or something. Dad had red hair and green eyes, I thought he was the most handsome person ever and when I was 4 I begged him to marry me because I needed to marry the most handsome man in the world. He said he loved my mum too much to marry me, (he laughed but he was being nice in telling my very temperamental 4-year-old self that daddies don't marry their daughters.)
My mum was pretty. She was tall and thin and had this super pretty blonde hair. She always wore dresses, never pants. She was always well put together like we could expect company at any moment. She was always baking or cooking too. That kitchen always had a fresh stock of cookies, cakes, pies or anything else my mother could think to create.
My sister, Esther was older than me and we were radically different. Or maybe we weren't really all that different since she was so much older than me and I was a baby for the most part. When she was home from school, she would sing me songs and play games with me. So, in that respect, we got along great. When I turned 5, Mum allowed Esther to take me through the neighborhood to the little store that sold the fancy sodas. She gave us enough money to split a soda and the trip there and back was quite the adventure for my 5-year-old self.
I remember loving that house and sometimes, I wish I could remember more.
I know this was short and the perspective is a bit strange but I hope it worked out well.
~ipastitalia