Lady Sybbie

Chapter One: Arrival

"I received a telegram this morning, and it contained to the most disturbing news. I'm afraid to say that Tom Branson, has died from an car accident in Boston. I've already sent Sybbie on a ship liner and as her grandparents, we are her legal guardians. She should arrive by this upcoming Friday. I must add, that she has been in quite a distressed state. So things might be in a.. well in a very different way."

---sybbie POV---

(memory)
My drunken uncle staggered home, his tie undone and hair in a ratty mess. He jiggled the doorknob before opening the door abruptly.  His mustache had knots and grass hibernating in the handlebar. About a year ago, he was on his visit to Ireland, when he decided to permanently stay until further notice. Oh! How the neighbors hated when he would pound on the walls at night. Dad had often tried to get rid of him. The police would show up at our home the next day, saying they found him off the side of the road.

Anyways, he fumbled to walk over to my room, not from shock, but from liquor. I was asleep in my bed, but then I heard a shatter. I put on my slippers and robe, before walking over the noise. I saw my uncle, still drunk as ever. I didn't wonder where Dad was, I assumed he was sleeping as well. But, when I woke up the next morning, I was greeted by officers, who told me he was dead. My uncle lazily walked over, saying he would take good care of me. That is, until he realized that my father had left me in custody of my grandparents. He then slapped me, in front of the officers. I didn't mind seeing him go.

--- present day ---

The rain poured hard, and pounded onto the delicate grass of Downton. I was still in my bed, refusing fall back asleep. I simply couldn't. I looked over at the clock on my mantle, 6:00. I looked around my room. The room was a soft yellow and had matching bedsheets. There were pictures decorated on the dresser, which I couldn't bear myself to look at.

I stood up, and looked at my bedside table, where a note was waiting for me. I opened it reluctantly, I ripped off the seal and pulled out the note:

Dear Sybbie,

I'm sorry we couldn't be there for your arrival yesterday. We expected you to come home on Thursday, December 15. We hope you find your room nice and tidy, please ring the bell if you need anything. Mr. Carson should be in the downstairs  if you need anything. Your cousin's grandmother, Isabel Crawley, should be coming by around 4 o'clock for tea. You will find appropriate attire in your wardrobe. We shall be home around lunch tomorrow.

Sincerely,
Your Family

I creased the paper and set it back on my bedside table. I sighed. I'll just put on my robe and go downstairs, I thought, as pulled my robe off the bedpost, maybe I'll find my way to the kitchens. I picked up bobby pins on my vanity table and fastened my hair back, so I looked a bit more attractive. I put on my pair of slippers and tiptoed out the door.

It was too creepy at night. As I walked, the floor creaked and cracked like a cackling witch. The light that shone through the windows added a mysterious facade to the portraits of my ancestors. I pushed through the servants door and walked down the stairs, my shoes clicking against the ground. I walked down to their dinner table, no one was up, which gave me some alone time. I walked into the kitchen and found the pantry. I pulled out some eggs and cooked them on the stove, tossing the eggs around in the pan.

When I finished eating them, I heard steps coming down the stairs. I dropped my fork.

"M'lady?"

"Yes?" I asked, my voice sounding more conspicuous than usual.

"Do you need anything?"

I looked up at the kitchen maid. She was rather short, with her dark hair tucked into a straight bun. She wore a dull shade of purple and an off-white apron. The only pattern she seemed to be wearing was a plaid collar, which was neatly folded over the top of her apron.

"Thank you," I said, trying to sound nice, "I'm good."

I couldn't help but smile at my stupidity. I picked up the silver fork and placed it atop my plate, before placing it into the sink.

"I'll... I'll see you later." I said, trying to escape the awkward encounter.

"Yes m'lady," she said, as I walked up the stairs back to aristocracy.

"Oh," I said, peeking my head over the railing,"My name is Sybbie. I prefer that. Well. Yeah. Goodbye!"

And with my strange comment I continued up the stairs.

Authors Note: Thank you for reading my Downton Abbey Fanfiction! I hope you enjoyed. The attached picture is what I thought Sybbie would look like.

1. This is Sybbie in a portrait as a young adult, I know she's a teenager now but I plan on writing this story into her adulthood.

2. That is what I thought Sybbie would've looked like as a child, not really. I just thought the child was cute.

3. Here is Sybbie in her teenage years, the girl in the picture is probably 15 but I thought the picture was good.

4. And this is another picture of Sybbie in adulthood, its hard to find teenagers to my standards for Sybbie! Anyway, I thought she would be quite elegant.

Please comment your thoughts on my first Downton Abbey Fanfiction!