Catherine Whyte

[Catherine Whyte]

NAME: Catherine Suzanne Whyte
NICKNAME: Cathy, Cat/Kat, Kit-Kat, Suzie....
AGE: 33-34-35-ish? (35)
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: Unsure
POSITION: School Nurse
FACE CLAIM: Ellen Pompeo

POWER: Enhanced Memory
I can remember things. Like, I remember a lot of things. I remember greater parts of my life, and I remember a lot of the information my brain is fed. I also remember details and I remember them longer than what normal people do. Like, if I read a book or listen to a song once, I can remember it perfectly. The things I experience in my life, such as events, people I meet and details I encounter; I remember them too. It takes me less effort to recall the information, and it doesn't take me a lot of focus or strain to remember it either. My memory isn't perfect. It's just better. I can forget things. I do forget things. But it's still better.

LIMITATIONS:

• Again, my memory isn't perfect. It's flawed, just like everyone else's are. Memories that have a greater impact on me, or are more significant are easier to remember. But I can still forget things. It does however make it harder for me to forget memories that make the same kind of impact as stated before. I can't choose what to remember and what to forget. It just happens.
• Although I can remember things such as smell, sight, sounds and touch, the sense of smell, sound and touch are the first to be forgotten. It's frustrating, but at least, I can still remember what I saw.
• I cannot turn this ability off. It just happens. It just is. Which also means that my side-effects are constant.

SIDE EFFECTS:

• I experience headaches. Often. Every day. Sometimes they develop into migraines, and with the migraines comes the nausea and then the nosebleeds. It's stressful and it's painful.
• You know those memories that make you curl up in embarrassment when thinking about them? Try doing that when remembering every single little detail of the situation. It's stressful. It makes me restless and moody. I don't like it.
• Forcing myself to remember things is a bad idea. I can't pick what I remember and what I forget, but trying to remember something... Like, really try... I've passed out from trying that. I'm kind of afraid, because I was told that trying too hard could give me brain damage.

age -- When does age start to matter, or maybe, it never did to begin with? But let's say, just for a moment that it does matter. When does it stop mattering? What is age? Who decides when it matters and when it doesn't? 33-34-35--something. It doesn't matter. Not to me. Not to her. Not to us.

memory -- When you remember almost every single detail in your life, it becomes a lot to take on. And I don't mean a lot like claiming that you only studied a lot for your chemistry test and still got a B. When I say a lot, I mean like, so much it physically makes your brain hurt. I can still remember the scent of the flowers growing outside my house. I can still remember the cute paper delivery boy and how many freckles he had on his cheeks. I can remember everything. Well, almost everything.

school -- I liked school. I loved school. I found it intriguing and challenging, and I loved it. I liked studying. I was good at it. I had friends. I was a normal kid. A normal teenager. My record wasn't-- isn't perfect. I got in trouble. I did things I shouldn't have. I was stupid. I was smart. I made bad choices. I made good choices. I was a teenager.

appearance -- I remember how my blonde, slightly curled hair just wouldn't behave and kept falling in my face. I remember how my green eyes looked kind of different for some reason. I remember staring at myself in the mirror, wishing I wasn't too thin, or too short. I remember I wished I was one point nine instead of one point seven, and that I weighed more than just one hundred and twenty five. That was not a good day.

manifestation -- I was thirteen. I remember every single detail about that day. The green shirt my mother wore. The smell of my father's aftershave. The sound of the birds outside the window, and the way the vacuum echoed through the house. I didn't feel any different. They didn't see any difference. But then they showed up. A week after my supposed "manifestation". They explained it. I nodded. But I didn't understand. I didn't want to understand. But I had to go. I had no choice.

mutant -- That's what they call us. That's what we call us. A school for gifted humans is another word for it. Or, if you want to get technical, a school for mutants. Sound surreal, doesn't it? It's true. I would know. It's not a magical place. It's just like any other school. Well, maybe not exactly like any other school, but it's still school. A place to learn. I liked learning. I loved it. I was good at it. See, now I'm starting to sound like a broken record.

job -- Even after graduating I decided to stay. Why? Because I liked it. It's what I know. It's not all I know. That would be silly. But I like it here. I like my life here. I am comfortable with it. I have few regrets. I am happy. I have little to complain over. I am content. And being able to help these kids, if only just a little, it's a nice feeling. Being a nurse isn't the best job in the world, I know that, but I enjoy taking care of them, and I enjoy being able to help. Whether that means treating someone's wounds or side-effects, or helping them with questions relating to sex...

'ships -- I'm not married, nor have I ever been. I don't have any kids of my own, and I don't really want to get married either. It has never been a priority of mine, and I don't get lonely either. I don't get lonely because even at the age of thirty something, I have a roommate. She understands me. She fulfills me. She's my person. She is there when no one else is, and she's the only person I look forward to seeing at the end of the day. People say that you grow out of having a roommate, but I guess I never did. And I hope I never will.


SAMPLE: Check out my 34 other characters *sigh*

USERNAME: Mel

AGE GROUP: 22

EXPERIENCE: A few years now.

WHERE DID YOU FIND US? I made you all. Be grateful.

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