Poor Pepper, having to pay 'sun tax'. If I were in her position I'd be mouthing off the Council like nobody's business. And I'm normally a pretty easy-going person when it comes to things like that. But it's nice she found someone who doesn't treat her like dirt. :-)
Poor Pepper, having to pay 'sun tax'. If I were in her position I'd be mouthing off the Council like nobody's business. And I'm normally a pretty easy-going person when it comes to things like that. But it's nice she found someone who doesn't treat her like dirt. :-)
Yeah, the taxes are kinda silly. Pepper doesn't mouth off because she knows it won't do any good. She's really in the minority among the Berries, and their laws are against her. What she needs is a representative in the Council (and she might get that someday).
I think I love Pomegranate. And not just because he's a teacher (and I'm going to school to teach). He's just...perfection!
I find it worrisome that there are elementary school teachers sending hate mail to someone because they happen to be rooming with an attractive man. There is something seriously twisted about this town! O_o
I think I love Pomegranate. And not just because he's a teacher (and I'm going to school to teach). He's just...perfection!
I find it worrisome that there are elementary school teachers sending hate mail to someone because they happen to be rooming with an attractive man. There is something seriously twisted about this town! O_o
It's the culture I created. Basically, the pure black (or nearly pure black, in Pepper's case. She has some white in her hair) Berries are such a taboo, that they don't want them to breed. You'll find out that, in the past, such children were put to death. Pepper, growing up, had to hide to keep her family's "shame" a secret. At the moment, the laws don't demand the death of Soileds, but they are not exactly welcomed. I created the culture to be one that is so obsessed with passing colors on, that they are beyond hateful to those whom they perceive to not have this ability (such as non-Berries and Soileds). Twix Brook is the most backwards of all these towns, stuck in a very primitive mind set. The goal of this generation is to start to break that mold. It won't be easy, and they have such an uphill battle. I'm pretty far in the story, so I have to be careful. I sometimes forget you haven't seen what I've seen.
But, on a brighter note, I do love Pomegranate. He's such a sweetie.
I absolutely adore the backstory to this. The soiled berries and the idea of white berries being superior is so different from any other rainbowcy I've read. I can' wait for more!
@AnonymousMiss: Yeah. The idea was just kinda like, 'Hmmm, everyone seems to be doing A, so I think I'll do B'. I tend to do that sometimes just to see how a story will develop. Also, love your "Location". Cracked me up.
@AriellaA: I didn't want Pepper to make Pomegranate wait too long. Their story is actually more interesting after they get together.
@Winterbaby: Pepper's family will make periodic appearances. Some of them good, some not so good. They all live in Twix Brook, so they are bound to run into each other.
@Arrowleaf: Yay! Thanks so much! Now I need to figure out a love triangle so I can use it!
“Oh, my Berry! What in the dark pits is that? It has no color. It's so...dark.”
“Don't stare at it, Juniper. Those things can steal your colors, you know.”
One would think that by the time I was an adult, I would be used to the stares and remarks of the other Berry Sims. In the world of Berries, I was an oddity. A mutant. Color dominated everything, the ability to pass on color was prized above all.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00a-the-parents.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-330" alt="00a The Parents" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00a-the-parents.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
This was evident in my parents. Lovely and pale, they were as close to Colorless as possible. The slight yellow and blue of their color made them desired among the Berries. The paler the color, the better to pass on color genes. If one was born pure white, they were like royalty. After all, white reflects all colors and was seen as the most generous of all Berries.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00b-normal-berry.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-331" alt="00b Normal Berry" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00b-normal-berry.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
The majority of Berries were either Mixed or Pure Colored. The more colorful, the more chances they had in society. Ruled by a Council, Berries had assigned colors. A Mixed Color Berry had more choices, while a Pure Colored Berry would seek out a Mixed to make a rainbow in the family.
That was my sister – my twin sister, Vanilla. She was a Mixed, as well as very pale. All through school, she was Miss Popularity. Girls wanted to be friends with her and boys wanted to date her. She could easily charm her teachers and knew that the world was opened to her. When we became teens, she was given the honor of having white as an accent color, as well as her pick of pale yellows and pale blues. No matter who she ended up marrying, she was a gateway for great genes.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00c-pepper-mist.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-332" alt="00c Pepper Mist" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00c-pepper-mist.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
Which brings us to me.
As you can see, I was not a Pale Berry. In fact, I was the rare Soiled Berry. Where white is a reflection of all colors, black reflects nothing. It sucks all color in and hordes it like a miser. Berries worked hard to breed out the darkness. Dark purples or blues or reds were okay, because they were still colors. But black? I was a disgrace.
At my sixteenth birthday, the Council met and handed me my lifelong colors. A range of gray with black as an accent color. It was their way of saying that I was nothing. As a Soiled Berry, I would be lucky to find a mate and have kids. Anyone who married me, or consented to have children with me, ran the risk of having more Soiled Berries. Most would just let me die of old age and childless. Anything to keep the mutation from spreading.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00d-snow-mist.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-333" alt="00d Snow Mist" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00d-snow-mist.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
I was never close to my parents. My mother, Snow, was a stay-at-home mom, so you'd think that I, a home schooled child, would be best friends with her. But, alas, it was not so. Mom hated the stigma that I represented. She didn't abuse me, not outright. She never yelled at me, she gave me a home and food and a warm bed, and she never beat me. Yet, she also never hugged me or said she was happy or took an interest in my hobbies. I became a painter because it was something she enjoyed and wanted to bond with her. I doubt she ever noticed anything I made.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00e-ghost-mist.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-334" alt="00e Ghost Mist" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00e-ghost-mist.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
My dad, Ghost, stayed away at work. A lot. And when he was home, he wanted nothing more than to catch up on things with mom and Vanilla. I was just a shadow. I showed up in no family portraits, was not allowed to attend any family outings, and was told to stay far away from celebrations where my freakishness could effect the family. Dad was more sterner than mom, and he was the one who often told me the harsh truths of my genetics. I wanted to hate him, and I tried to, but the reality of the Berry world was everywhere. I couldn't hate him for something that was drilled into everyone. I could, however, hate him for not being stronger and loving me more.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00f-vanilla-mist.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-335" alt="00f Vanilla Mist" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00f-vanilla-mist.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
Vanilla was the apple of my parents' eyes. She got to attend school and had friends. My social skills were stunted from lack of socialization and I learned by watching Vanilla. She was in ballet in middle school and drama in high school. She attended parties nearly every week. When she had parties at the house, I hid in a small back room and watched. As long as I wasn't seen, it was fine.
After graduation, I was given the horrific news. Vanilla was getting married and moving her new husband into the house. I was <i>persona non grata</i> and had to move out. Vanilla had taken so much care to keep me out of her personal life and away from her friends that her future husband thought she was an only child. They already had paperwork from the Council to move me out.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00g-twins.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-311" alt="00g Twins" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00g-twins.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
<p align="CENTER"></p>
“I hate you! You stupid piece of crap! And I hate your whole family! I hate chocolate! I hate vanilla! I hate cake! And how in the dark pits did I get frosting on the ceiling!”
I glared at the repugnant mess in my kitchen. Of all the problems I needed today, managing to utterly destroy the cake I was baking just made it all perfect. In the midst of the dark wood and monotone gray tiles, globs of vanilla frosting clung to the walls and crumbs of chocolate cake littered my counters. In a fit of anger, I grabbed a knife and stabbed the offending pastry until it was nothing but a crumbly mess. Looking at what I had done, I didn't feel any better. I felt worse. Sinking on to the steel gray floor, I sobbed.
It certainly didn't help that my new home was the most gloomiest place in all of Twix Brook, and that town was gloomy by nature. Twix Brook had once been a booming mining town with a very prosperous railroad running alongside it and a busy port. When one thought of ore and quality steel, they thought of Twix Brook. However, after a series of misfortunes in the market and two mysterious explosions on the railroad, the trade stopped. The mines closed and many of the founding families of Twix Brook moved away. The railroad and port closed, slowly rotting away. Those who stayed in Twix Brook were the most stubborn, hearty, and small-minded folks who had a narrow view of what life should be.
And I, a Soiled Berry, was not part of that life plan.
The house the Council let me buy was just outside of town. At first, I could live on my own, but the Council quickly made that harder. Each month, my rent and bills went up with sneaky hidden charges. In addition to my mortgage and utilities, I found out that I was paying “air” tax and “sun” charges. Not to mention the mythical “swamp vacuum surcharge”. Soon, my money from selling paintings and photos online wasn't enough. I had to get a renter. But, who would want to rent from a Soiled Berry? I ran an ad well over a month a go, but there had been no serious takers. A few prank calls and some gawkers who wanted to see a real life Soiled Berry.
As silly as it sounded, there were still Berries who believed the old superstition that a Soiled could steal their colors.
Just as I finished cleaning the last of the frosting and cake crumbs from my kitchen, the doorbell rang. I was surprised, and figured it was probably another messenger from the Council with yet another silly reason to hike up my expenses. It was illegal to deny housing to any Berry, but they could do just about anything to make me want to move and be some other town's problem. Wiping my hands on a gray towel, I yanked open the front door.
“I swear to Berry, if you are here to tell me that you're taxing my right see or walk, I'm going to take this up with the High Council!”
The man on my porch took a step back. He was the most handsome Berry I ever laid eyes on. Dark red skin with a hint of mulberry pink, dark burgundy red hair with even darker highlights framed a strong face. His eyes were the most gorgeous turquoise blue I ever seen and the slightly scruffy beard growth only made him look dashing. There was a sweet, puppy dog quality to his looks.
“I'm sorry, I'm not here to tax you,” he said. I had to lean on the door frame at the sound of his rich, velvety voice. At that moment, I'd pay any tax by the Council if it came from him.
I blinked and shook my head. “No. No, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else. What can I do for you?” Please, I prayed, may he not be a gawker. I didn't think I could take if this handsome Berry were only there to make my existence awful.
He held up a sheet of paper. “I'm here about the room. Is it still available? I know this is short notice, but my original housing plans fell through and I could use a place to live.”
I took the paper. It was an old copy of my ad. The price for the room had changed just two weeks ago. I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping this didn't turn ugly.
“The room is still available, but there has been some changes,” I said. “The rent price is now $800, plus half utilities.”
He grinned, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Does that have anything to do with what you were, um, talking about when I showed up?”
“Yeah. I had to raise the expected rent due to several hikes in my rent. Sorry if that's a problem.”
“It's not a problem. I guess that makes sense. After all, you're not secretly changing the rent on me, so I can handle that. Will it go up more after I sign?”
I shook my head. “I'll keep it at $800 until it's time to sign the new contract. When it comes to that time, we'll talk about what we can do.”
“That sounds fair. Where do I sign?”
I smiled and held out my hand. “Well, first off, I'm Pepper Mist. We should at least know each others' names if we're going to be living together.”
“Pomegranate Crush, teacher extraordinaire.” He shook my hand, his smile lighting up his beautiful turquoise eyes. “I moved here from Sugar Valley to teach at the school and was going to stay with my brother and his wife. However, my sister-in-law announced she is pregnant and they turned my room into the nursery. So, um, here I am.”
“Come on in. The pain job is a bit gloomy, I'm afraid. It's really hard to make gray and black seem cheerful. I guess I really don't have to tell you why those are my colors.”
“I think they suit you. Though, I'm sure any color you wear would look stunning.”
“Flattery won't change the rent contract.” For the first time I was glad for my dark skin. It hid the blush.
Pomegranate grinned. “Saw through my ingenious plan, did you?” He laughed, and I wasn't sure if he was kidding or not.
I gave him the tour of the house. It wasn't much and only took a few minutes to show him the downstairs. I got a three-story house, but it was tiny. The main floor held the kitchen, living room, half bath and laundry room. All decorated in various shades of black and gray. Then we headed up to the second floor, which held our rooms and a full bath. Pomegranate paused to look at the photographs in his room.
“Wow! These are really good! Where did you get these? These look like originals by Profane.”
“Um, I took these. It's my hobby. I go around Twix Brook and take pictures of whatever catches my fancy. All of the pictures in your room are from a broken pier just outside of town.” I didn't want him to know that Profane was my pseudonym for my artwork. I had a feeling that most of my buyers wouldn't pay a single cent if they knew I was a Soiled. As Profane, I could keep my identity a secret. I didn't know Pomegranate well enough to let him in on my secret.
He reached out one finger to trace the glass over the bare wooden bones of the pier that had once been used to transport good in and out of Twix Brook. “You really captured the emotion of the place well. It's so sad and lonely.” His velvety voice was soft with wonderment. “You'd give Profane a run for his money.”
“His money?”
“Yeah. Everyone says Profane is a guy.” He looked back at me. “Do you think Profane's a girl?”
I shrugged. “Why not? No one knows the real identity of Profane. He...or she...could be anyone.”
“True.”
“I have happier pictures, if you want. I mean, if the black and white pictures are too gloomy. I have a few colorful pictures or some sepia ones.”
“I will be honored to have any pictures you've taken on the walls.”
I took him up through my room to the study on the third floor. When we passed by the pictures of my sister and my family, he paused. At the time I put them up, I had seen it as a tribute to my flesh and blood. But as I watched Pomegranate reach up and trace a finger down Vanilla's portrait as lovingly as he had the picture of the pier, I felt fearful.
“Who are these people?”
“My family. That one there is my twin, Vanilla. She and her husband are still traveling the globe.”
He looked closer at the picture and then at the ones of my parents. He turned back to me. “I can see the similarity. You really take after your dad. And Vanilla and you are identical.”
“I don't see it. We're supposed to be twins, but I got the short end of the stick.” Obviously. My twin was a treasured light colored Berry. The white and pale coloring of her skin and hair made her desirable. And her husband was a bright flame-orange Berry. Their kids would look striking. I was too dark to pass on any genes.
I didn't have the courage to ask him what he meant by that. Instead, I scuffed the toe of my shoe on the ground and mumbled that the tour was over. We went back down to the kitchen so we could sign the rental contract and go to the courthouse. He would have to formally log in his personal colors so, should he repaint his room, the Council knew what was allowed. It might take a month or more before he would be given the okay on repainting. It depended on how fast the Council of Sugar Valley was in handling such requests with Twix Brook.
Part of me couldn't wait to see him repaint the room. The idea of having a room with even the smallest touch of red or turquoise made me quiver. To someone who had thought she'd live her whole life trapped in monotone gray, red was an adventure.
It took two months before the Council in Sugar Valley sent the correct paperwork to confirm Pomegranate's colors. Once that was done, he eagerly painted his room. The colors of pomegranate red and turquoise blue made the room pop. Though, much to my surprise, Pomegranate didn't spend all his time in his room as I thought he would. He went to work and would come home to grade papers, and then spend his evening watching TV with me or exercising. He said he got a rush from the exercise, and I knew I got a rush from watching him walk around half naked.
Did I mention the man had a fantastic body?
During the day, while Pomegranate worked, I did my own work. I painted or went around Twix Brook to take pictures. With my very handsome roommate, I found my mind wandering less and less on my tasks and more and more on him. When I took pictures of the forgotten and lost parts of Twix Brook's history, I would wonder what Pomegranate would think of it. When I painted a picture, I had to concentrate or I'd find myself painting him.
I ruined far too many canvases that way. I had no idea what I could do. I was slowly going mad. Sometimes, when Pomegranate was working, I'd sneak into his room just to lay on his bed and stare at the colorful walls. I pictured my house with a mixture of red, turquoise and gray, the way it would be if I married Pomegranate.
It didn't take long for me to snap out of that part of my foolish daydreams. I was a Soiled. As nice as he was to me, there was no way he'd ever find me attractive. Especially not when I learned that he was the object of attention from his female coworkers. And when they learned he was living at my house...it was not pleasant.
“What could a Soiled Berry ever hope to give someone like Pomegranate? You're probably barren anyway.”
“A Berry as vibrant as Pomegranate deserves a wife with an equally colorful plumage. Something in blue to balance the red. Not black.”
“Don't you dare steal his colors, you Soiled ******”
The calls and letters poured in, more and more every day. How his coworkers found the time to harass me and do their jobs was beyond me. I was careful to delete the messages from the machine before Pomegranate got home, and shred the letters. I was sure Pomegranate noticed that I was often silent and withdrawn, but he probably figured that was just my personality.
“I might be home late tonight,” I called out as Pomegranate left one morning. “I'm going to take some pictures of the far side of town.”
“Okay. See you when you get home.” Pomegranate waved as he left. I only stayed in the house long enough to intercept the mail and throw the threats away. Then I ran out to snap my pictures. I went to the most desolate area of Twix Brook I could find, and felt at peace as I knew none of the Berries would follow me out here.
I quite liked the most ruined parts of Twix Brook. In many ways, they reminded me of myself. Quiet, off to the side, could be useful if they allowed me to be – all the things that the lonely, decaying sections of Twix Brook represented. I stayed out later than I thought I would, wanting to get that perfect picture of the sunset.
When I got home, I was feeling relieved and calm. However, as I walked in, I saw Pomegranate standing at the table. In his hand was the letters I had thrown away. He was reading them, but he must have heard me. He looked up, and the pain on his face cut right through to my heart. It was a look I wasn't expecting. Wouldn't he be thrilled to know that the other Berries were keeping me in my place? I could remember the look on Vanilla's face the first time she found out someone was teasing me.
<i> “You just don't belong,” she told me. “Look at you. No colors of your own. You're just sucking in the color around you. A real Berry would reflect something back. Look at me. I have white in my coloring. I'm generously reflecting back everything. You're just selfish, Pepper. That's why everyone hates you.”</i>
“Pepper?” Pomegranate's voice brought me back to the present.
“I thought I threw those away,” I said. “Where did you find them?”
“Pepper, why didn't you tell me this was going on?” He tapped the letters against the table.
“I didn't think it concerned you,” I said. I snatched the letters from him and quickly stuffed them back in the trash. “It's nothing I can't handle.”
“It's not right. You shouldn't have to go through all of this.”
I shrugged. “I'm used to it. I got it a lot as a kid if I was seen. They'll get tired of bothering me eventually.” I knew the eventually would be when Pomegranate started dating. Then, all of the hate poured on me would be turned on whatever Berry he picked. And then, slowly, it would stop because she would be accepted among the fold.
Pomegranate grabbed my arms and forced me to look at him. “Listen to me, Pepper. I wish I knew when this started. I don't like any of them threatening you. They have no right.”
“I'm a Soiled, Pomegranate. I'm not even supposed to exist! You saw the pictures of my parents and my sister. All of them are light colored, and I'm a Soiled! That's why I get these letters.” My voice cracked as he pulled me into an embrace. “I'm Soiled and that's why.”
“I'm so sorry, Pepper. This is all my fault. When they stopped saying things to me at work, I thought it was over. I didn't know they were attacking you.”
“What do you mean, your fault?”
Pomegranate's soft lips pressed against my cheek. “At first, they said so many horrible things about you to my face. The teachers and the kids, all of them were so mean. I got angry and told them to stop, that you were the kindest, sweetest Berry I knew. They accused me of liking you.”
I sniffled. “And?”
“And they were right about that. I do like you, Pepper. From the moment you opened the door and stood there, all fire and passion. The more time I spend with you, the more I can see what a wonderful Berry you are.”
I looked up at him, at the compassion in his turquoise eyes. “I like you too, Pomegranate.” I knew I more than just liked him. I was in love. But, I'd take like over hate any day.
He slowly bent down and my heart raced. I knew what was going to happen. I had dreamed of this since meeting him. Those beautiful, soft lips pressed against mine. It was a little hesitant at first, but when he didn't pull back or push me away, I leaned a bit more into him.
It was like a dam breaking. One second, we were engaged in the most innocent and sweet kiss imaginable, and the next it was like we were drowning. I clung to him as the kiss deepened and his tongue swept my mouth. I could taste him, and he tasted of sweet berries and chocolate. His hands were everywhere, hot against my skin as they found their way under my shirt.
We pulled apart long enough to catch our breath. Then he was kissing me again. His lips migrated from my mouth, down my neck, and teased along the collar of my shirt. I took a step back and found myself leaning back on the table. Looking down, I saw my dark hand on the red flesh of his arm.
It was that image – the black against the color – that pulled me from the lustful haze I had fallen into. I couldn't do this! What if this was a fluke and he really didn't want me like this? What if he regretted it afterward?
What if he came to hate me?
I pushed him off me and ran upstairs. I locked myself in my room. I heard him following me, but I felt ashamed. Pomegranate was too nice for me to ruin him like that.
“Pepper? What's wrong? Did I do something wrong? I'm really sorry...I just...I thought you wanted that too. Please, I'm sorry.”
It took me a few tries to answer him to realize I was sobbing. Finally, I choked out, “We can't! Good Berry, Pomegranate, believe me, I want to be with you. But we can't. You deserve better than me.”
There was silence, and I thought he left. Then, softly, he said, “Pepper, there is no one better than you. I may not deserve you, but I want to try to be worthy of you.”
The days and weeks after the incident became tense. I kept waiting for Pomegranate to tell me he hated me, or that he was moving, or that it was all a mistake. I avoided him, frightened of seeing disgust in his eyes. I wasn't sure what led him to kiss me, but I just knew he'd realize what a mistake it was. I clung to the memory of how he felt and smelled and tasted in that moment. I knew it wouldn't be long before memories were all I had left.
Pomegranate, for his part, was making it nearly impossible for me to move on. This treatment was a hundred times more cruel than if he just laughed at me and ignored me. I'd find trinkets by my door in the morning, notes filled with his loving words, and he'd cook dinner every night with the hopes of me joining him. I'd find the leftovers in the fridge the next day with more notes. I had no one to turn to and figure this out. I was so used to people ignoring me, that his attention frightened me.
In a desperate attempt, I created a new online profile. This one was just a faceless young Berry I named Rainbow who needed advice. I kept my colors out of it and refused to answer any questions in that direction. I met a man in a chatroom who offered to help me. He never told me much about himself, but we talked while he was on his lunch break, and sometimes into the night.
PCBerryMan: Okay, let me get this straight: There is a guy who adores you and wants to be with you, but you're scared he'll wake up and leave you someday?
Rainbow: Yeah. Well, I'm sure he'll realize we're not suited. I mean, everyone else who knows us says it too.
PCBerryMan: What is with you girls? I've got the same thing on my end. A perfectly lovely girl who thinks she's not good enough. You know, just because some bullies in school said those things doesn't make it true.
Rainbow: It's more complicated than that. See, he's the first guy I have ever fallen in love with. I'm scared.
PCBerryMan: Then what is stopping you? Sometimes, getting hurt is part of the process. Listen, the most romantic story I ever heard was of my many-times-great-grandparents. They were told they could never be together. Some of the same stupid color reasons that are still going on today. But they did all they could to be together, even if it meant the death of some of their children for not having the right color combinations. And do you know what?
Rainbow: What?
PCBerryMan: According to my grandmother, my many-times-great-grandmother wouldn't have had it any other way. She loved that man with all her heart and cherished every moment. “It was better to love and feel pain, than to never have loved at all.”
What he said made me think. Would it be better to take a chance with Pomegranate and know the combination of love and loss, or just hide away and always wonder what could have been? I could save my heart from ever being hurt, but at what price?
After that, I tried to make it up to Pomegranate a little at a time. I started taking meals down in the kitchen instead of hiding until he was in bed. He never mentioned my absence. When I slowly started joining him for movies after dinner, he welcomed me. But not with the same open arms as before. He held back and was careful for us to not touch.
Was this a sign that he had stopped wanting me?
PCBerryMan: I think it's a sign he's worried. After all, you said you pretty much cut off all communication from from him. Maybe he's scared to get close and have you run away again.
Rainbow: What should I do?
PCBerryMan: Try talking to him. Explain your side of things. Listen to his. Figure out how to move forward.
Rainbow: Sure. How are things on your end?
PCBerryMan: Getting better. My future better half has started talking to me again.
I continued to move forward with my plans. It was a slow process. I may not have had a lot of experience around other Berries, but I did know that just giving signals and not talking would get me no where.
“Pomegranate, we need to talk,” I said one night.
“Those words have been known to chill the blood of even the strongest men. What's up?”
“Well, first of all, I wanted to apologize about how I've been acting. It wasn't fair to you.” I twisted my fingers nervously. “The thing is, you're really the first Berry to ever be nice to me. I'm not used to it. I keep expecting you to just tell me that it was all a joke.”
“I'm not going to do that, Pepper. Please, understand when I say that I like you, that I care about you, it's all true.” He pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “I would never do anything to knowingly hurt you.”
“So, you're not regretting kissing me?”
He shook his head. “Not in the way you think. The only thing I regret is that I scared you.”
“You do realize that I'm Soiled.”
His eyes opened wide. "You're a Soiled? Oh, my Berry! Why didn't you ever tell me?" At my very unamused look, he said, “I don't care. All those idiots talking about you hoarding colors or stealing them is false. Think about it, Pepper. Because you hold on to all colors, that makes you the most colorful Berry in existence. All the others value pale colors, but you are the very picture of what they desire.”
“Do you really think so?”
He took my hand and led me to the couch. Sitting, he said, “I do. I hear it all the time at school. All those teenage Berries talking about how this girl or that girl doesn't have the right colors. How this girl is too dark or that girl has too much monotone. In the end, it means nothing. They only care about color. And you, Pepper, have every color of the rainbow.”
“I never thought of it like that.”
Pomegranate smiled. “Do you want to know a secret?”
“I am normal.” He leaned forward, arms on his knees. “It happened many generations ago. My grandmother's grandmother I believe. Anyway, she was this beautiful blue Berry and she fell in love with a Soiled Berry. Their love was forbidden, of course. The Council at the time had just passed the law that Soileds couldn't be killed on sight, but they did all they could to destroy my ancestors. Any baby born with too many Soiled features mysteriously died in the crib. Just up and died in the middle of the night.”
“I'm so sorry,” I whispered. “That must have been awful for them.”
“It was. They weren't allowed to marry, but that didn't stop them from living together. The few kids who survived became my family tree.” He took my hand. “It's better to love and feel pain than to never love at all.”
I stiffened. “What did you say?” Now that I thought of it, his story seemed familiar.
“I said, it's better to love and feel pain than never to love at all. It's a rule my family has lived by ever since. We follow our hearts, even if that means getting hurt in the end.”
“You wouldn't happen to be giving advice out on the net, were you?”
Pomegranate laughed. “Yeah, I have been. Most of the problems that seem to come my way are all the same. A lot of Berries don't feel worthy of the one they love because of this stupid preoccupation with colors and the net gives them a place to be anonymous about it. I've found that the net is a great way to reach my students without them worrying about who knows about their problems. Why? Do you need advice? My handle is PCBerryMan.”
I shook my head. “I'm Rainbow.”
His smile slipped a little. “You're Rainbow! I...I'm sorry, Pepper. I didn't know. I wasn't prying into your life or anything. I swear.”
My first instinct was to run up to my room, to swear him off forever. He knew my innermost thoughts and feelings. I had told him about himself, and how he was the first guy I ever loved. All of my soul had been bared to him. But, he really didn't know. And I was tired of living without him. His advice had been right, and I wanted to feel loved. If I lost him in the end, I would rather have the happy memories of us together than a void of what could have beens.
“It's okay. I think it all worked out for the best.” With that, I leaned closer to him and kissed him.
“Come on back to bed, Pepper. It's too early to be up.” Pomegranate reached across the bed to where I had lain, sleepily pleading with me to return.
“I can't. I am so far behind on my paintings, it's not funny. I need to make money,” I said. I took his hand and kissed it.
“You're so beautiful when you're determined.”
Ever since our little talk, things between Pomegranate and I had improved. Though my situation with the other Berries in town hadn't, at least things were peaceful at home. Pomegranate and I were unofficially dating. The letters and phone calls continued, but now I had Pomegranate at my side.
He even fought with the Council on our behalf. Pomegranate knew more about Berry law than I did, and proved to them through the Council's own words that any two Berries could be together. If he wanted to spend the rest of his life with a Soiled, he could, and it would be legal.
I found myself happier with Pomegranate than I had ever been. While he taught, I painted and took pictures. What had normally been a quiet past time for me was now filled with humming and songs. That was what Pomegranate did to me.
One day, while he was at work, I got a surprise visit from my sister. Vanilla showed up on my doorstep and did not look very happy about being there.
“Your house is so dark,” she complained. “It's like a prison.”
“I can't help what colors the Council gave me.”
“You should see my home. It's very bright and cheery.”
“I'm sure it is.”
I led Vanilla into the house and offered to sit out on the back porch. She was very obvious about not touching anything.
“I came here to tell you something very important,” Vanilla said. “I mean, it's all over Twix Brook.”
“What is?”
“You and this Pomegranate fellow. That the two of you are together.”
I smiled. “We are. Did you come by to congratulate us?”
Vanilla sneered. “Of course not. I came to warn you. You shouldn't get your hopes up, Pepper. You're a Soiled. There is no way the Council will ever approve of the two of you together. Not to mention any kids.” She eyed me. “You're not pregnant, are you?”
“No.”
“That's good. You must have just gained weight.”
I bristled under her comments. “Listen, Vanilla, I'm happy with Pomegranate. And he loves me just the way I am.”
“You are so blind, Pepper. He can't love you. You'll be the ruin of him. You're just exciting for now, but when he finds a Berry worthy of his attention, he'll leave you behind. That's just the way things are.”
I studied my sister for a moment. “Pomegranate isn't like that. What makes you think he'll leave me?”
“Besides the fact that you can't produce colorful children? That's just how men are. They like colorful Berries, to see their kids in a rainbow of colors. There is no way he'll be happy with someone as selfish as you.”
I had the sudden horrible feeling that Vanilla wasn't really talking about me. “How are things with you,” I asked.
“Oh, fine. Never better. New house, setting up a nursery, got a promotion at work. I'm doing great.”
“And the guy you married?”
“He's doing great. We're both great.”
Three 'greats' in a row. She was lying. While I wasn't sure what was going on in her marriage, and I knew she wouldn't tell me, I could guess. From her comments, I'd say that Mr. Perfect wasn't really perfect.
“Pomegranate and I are doing great, too. My paintings are selling wonderfully, I'm able to make my rent, and he's doing well at his job. No matter what, I will never regret our time together.”
Vanilla sniffed. “We'll just see about that when reality comes crashing down.”
After Vanilla left, I couldn't stop myself from thinking over what I had learned. My perfect sister with all her perfect genes was unhappy. Not even being a Pale Berry could save her from heartbreak. What did that mean for me?
I waited for Pomegranate to come home. Maybe if I asked him his intentions, it would set my mind at ease. I really couldn't picture my life without him.
“I just really need to know whether or not this is a phase or the real thing,” I said. “I really hate to put you on the spot, Pomegranate, but I keep having Berries tell me the most awful things and I just get worried.”
“I understand,” Pomegranate said. “Listen, Pepper, I do love you. I love how beautiful you look when you smile, I love that when you laugh you sometimes snort, I love how your face lights up when you're painting, and I really love the little sounds you make when we make love. And that's just the superficial things I love. I love you, Pepper. I love hearing about your day and your dreams. I love listening to you breathe at night as you lie in my arms. I think about our future all the time. Don't worry about what others say. They are not us.”
“What if we do have children? What if they are all Soiled?”
“Then I would love each and ever one of them because they look like you.” Pomegranate smiled, running his hand through his hair. “Pepper, I have a theory about Soileds. It's not a popular one, but one that I noticed in my own family tree. Now, we reflect a color and that's the color we pass on, right?”
“Right.”
“And sometimes, there is a mutation where a color not found in the immediate generation can shine through. That's how we can have a Red Berry and a Yellow Berry produce a Blue Berry child. Right.”
“Yeah, I've heard of that.”
“That's because we all possess all the colors, we just reflect certain ones. It's easier to force a Pale or White Berry to reflect a new color because all you are doing is just turning the dial of that color up.”
I shrugged. I knew it was easier to pass on color genes the paler the Berry. I guess his explanation made sense.
“So, the way I see it, you possess all the colors, Pepper. You may not reflect any of them, but you possess them. That means, you have the ability to have very colorful children. You're the most perfect Berry out there, and they just don't know it yet.”
“What makes you say that?”
Pomegranate grinned. “I came from a Soiled Berry, remember. My family line didn't have any shades of red until those kids. So, think about it. How could a family that only bred blues and greens suddenly produce a red? It's because of all the colors my many-times-great-grandfather possessed. I'm sure of it.”
“I don't want to be some kind of experiment, Pomegranate.”
“You're not, Pepper. I promise. Any child I have with you will be out of love. No matter the color, I will love that child. I just feel that the Council is going about this whole Soileds business the wrong way. All of us have color.”
The way he said it, it made sense to me. Because of Pomegranate, I started daring to do more. I went into town a bit more and didn't let the stares or name-calling bother me. We even went out on dates, though they had to be well planned out since there were still restaurants that refused to cater to a Soiled. For the moment, my life was wonderful.
That is, until I started to get sick. For days on end, I found myself running to the bathroom and emptying the contents of my stomach. I was too scared to go to a doctor. I had read horror stories of what doctors did to Soiled Berries, though the stories were only horrific to me. To other Berries, they were just ordinary news stories with words of hope. I didn't want to take the chance that I got some doctor who wanted to experiment on me.
When the sickness lasted for two weeks, I realized what my symptoms indicated. I called up Vanilla and begged her to bring me a pregnancy test. She did, and while I waited for the results she sobbed about how her husband was cheating on her with some bright blue Berry. She had a kid at home and her life should have been great.
“Um, we now have another problem,” I said, holding up the stick. “I'm pregnant.”
“You have to get rid of the baby,” Vanilla said. “What if it's a Soiled?”
“I want to keep it. What if Pomegranate's ideas are true? What if I can have a colored baby? At least I owe it to him to tell him he's going to be a father.”
“No one is going to like that, Pepper. Soileds are not allowed to breed.”
I shook my head. “No, they are. The law about killing Soiled babies was repealed ages ago. I can have babies and not fear that they will be killed on sight. After all, how do you think I managed to survive birth? Besides, this baby is part of Pomegranate, and that means that there is a chance he or she will show his colors.”
Vanilla huffed. “Don't come crying to me when the order comes to kill the baby.”
I can't wait to see their baby! By the way vanilla shut your pie hole. just cause you got stuck with berryhole don't mean you need to bring your sister down.
I can't wait to see their baby! By the way vanilla shut your pie hole. just cause you got stuck with berryhole don't mean you need to bring your sister down.
I just caught up and I love the idea of a reverse rainbowcy and whites being better, its very original. I can't wait to see what her kids look like and I just want to mention I love Pomegranate :-)
Comments
Yeah, the taxes are kinda silly. Pepper doesn't mouth off because she knows it won't do any good. She's really in the minority among the Berries, and their laws are against her. What she needs is a representative in the Council (and she might get that someday).
I find it worrisome that there are elementary school teachers sending hate mail to someone because they happen to be rooming with an attractive man. There is something seriously twisted about this town! O_o
It's the culture I created. Basically, the pure black (or nearly pure black, in Pepper's case. She has some white in her hair) Berries are such a taboo, that they don't want them to breed. You'll find out that, in the past, such children were put to death. Pepper, growing up, had to hide to keep her family's "shame" a secret. At the moment, the laws don't demand the death of Soileds, but they are not exactly welcomed. I created the culture to be one that is so obsessed with passing colors on, that they are beyond hateful to those whom they perceive to not have this ability (such as non-Berries and Soileds). Twix Brook is the most backwards of all these towns, stuck in a very primitive mind set. The goal of this generation is to start to break that mold. It won't be easy, and they have such an uphill battle. I'm pretty far in the story, so I have to be careful. I sometimes forget you haven't seen what I've seen.
But, on a brighter note, I do love Pomegranate. He's such a sweetie.
Peppergranate! I like that!
Also, Pepper + Pomegranate =
They're sweet together, I'm glad things are working out for them!
Love triangle
The Landon Legacy Wordpress // Forums|
Chasing Rainbows: Wordpress // Forums
@AriellaA: I didn't want Pepper to make Pomegranate wait too long. Their story is actually more interesting after they get together.
@Winterbaby: Pepper's family will make periodic appearances. Some of them good, some not so good. They all live in Twix Brook, so they are bound to run into each other.
@Arrowleaf: Yay! Thanks so much! Now I need to figure out a love triangle so I can use it!
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00-prologue.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-329" alt="00 Prologue" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00-prologue.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
Prologue: Meet Pepper Mist
“Oh, my Berry! What in the dark pits is that? It has no color. It's so...dark.”
“Don't stare at it, Juniper. Those things can steal your colors, you know.”
One would think that by the time I was an adult, I would be used to the stares and remarks of the other Berry Sims. In the world of Berries, I was an oddity. A mutant. Color dominated everything, the ability to pass on color was prized above all.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00a-the-parents.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-330" alt="00a The Parents" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00a-the-parents.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
This was evident in my parents. Lovely and pale, they were as close to Colorless as possible. The slight yellow and blue of their color made them desired among the Berries. The paler the color, the better to pass on color genes. If one was born pure white, they were like royalty. After all, white reflects all colors and was seen as the most generous of all Berries.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00b-normal-berry.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-331" alt="00b Normal Berry" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00b-normal-berry.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
The majority of Berries were either Mixed or Pure Colored. The more colorful, the more chances they had in society. Ruled by a Council, Berries had assigned colors. A Mixed Color Berry had more choices, while a Pure Colored Berry would seek out a Mixed to make a rainbow in the family.
That was my sister – my twin sister, Vanilla. She was a Mixed, as well as very pale. All through school, she was Miss Popularity. Girls wanted to be friends with her and boys wanted to date her. She could easily charm her teachers and knew that the world was opened to her. When we became teens, she was given the honor of having white as an accent color, as well as her pick of pale yellows and pale blues. No matter who she ended up marrying, she was a gateway for great genes.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00c-pepper-mist.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-332" alt="00c Pepper Mist" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00c-pepper-mist.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
Which brings us to me.
As you can see, I was not a Pale Berry. In fact, I was the rare Soiled Berry. Where white is a reflection of all colors, black reflects nothing. It sucks all color in and hordes it like a miser. Berries worked hard to breed out the darkness. Dark purples or blues or reds were okay, because they were still colors. But black? I was a disgrace.
At my sixteenth birthday, the Council met and handed me my lifelong colors. A range of gray with black as an accent color. It was their way of saying that I was nothing. As a Soiled Berry, I would be lucky to find a mate and have kids. Anyone who married me, or consented to have children with me, ran the risk of having more Soiled Berries. Most would just let me die of old age and childless. Anything to keep the mutation from spreading.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00d-snow-mist.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-333" alt="00d Snow Mist" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00d-snow-mist.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
I was never close to my parents. My mother, Snow, was a stay-at-home mom, so you'd think that I, a home schooled child, would be best friends with her. But, alas, it was not so. Mom hated the stigma that I represented. She didn't abuse me, not outright. She never yelled at me, she gave me a home and food and a warm bed, and she never beat me. Yet, she also never hugged me or said she was happy or took an interest in my hobbies. I became a painter because it was something she enjoyed and wanted to bond with her. I doubt she ever noticed anything I made.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00e-ghost-mist.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-334" alt="00e Ghost Mist" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00e-ghost-mist.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
My dad, Ghost, stayed away at work. A lot. And when he was home, he wanted nothing more than to catch up on things with mom and Vanilla. I was just a shadow. I showed up in no family portraits, was not allowed to attend any family outings, and was told to stay far away from celebrations where my freakishness could effect the family. Dad was more sterner than mom, and he was the one who often told me the harsh truths of my genetics. I wanted to hate him, and I tried to, but the reality of the Berry world was everywhere. I couldn't hate him for something that was drilled into everyone. I could, however, hate him for not being stronger and loving me more.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00f-vanilla-mist.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-335" alt="00f Vanilla Mist" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00f-vanilla-mist.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
Vanilla was the apple of my parents' eyes. She got to attend school and had friends. My social skills were stunted from lack of socialization and I learned by watching Vanilla. She was in ballet in middle school and drama in high school. She attended parties nearly every week. When she had parties at the house, I hid in a small back room and watched. As long as I wasn't seen, it was fine.
After graduation, I was given the horrific news. Vanilla was getting married and moving her new husband into the house. I was <i>persona non grata</i> and had to move out. Vanilla had taken so much care to keep me out of her personal life and away from her friends that her future husband thought she was an only child. They already had paperwork from the Council to move me out.
<p align="CENTER"><a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00g-twins.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-311" alt="00g Twins" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/00g-twins.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a></p>
<p align="CENTER"></p>
Chapter One: Enter Pomegranate Crush
“I hate you! You stupid piece of crap! And I hate your whole family! I hate chocolate! I hate vanilla! I hate cake! And how in the dark pits did I get frosting on the ceiling!”
I glared at the repugnant mess in my kitchen. Of all the problems I needed today, managing to utterly destroy the cake I was baking just made it all perfect. In the midst of the dark wood and monotone gray tiles, globs of vanilla frosting clung to the walls and crumbs of chocolate cake littered my counters. In a fit of anger, I grabbed a knife and stabbed the offending pastry until it was nothing but a crumbly mess. Looking at what I had done, I didn't feel any better. I felt worse. Sinking on to the steel gray floor, I sobbed.
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-1a-twix-brook.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-353" alt="1.1a Twix Brook" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-1a-twix-brook.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
It certainly didn't help that my new home was the most gloomiest place in all of Twix Brook, and that town was gloomy by nature. Twix Brook had once been a booming mining town with a very prosperous railroad running alongside it and a busy port. When one thought of ore and quality steel, they thought of Twix Brook. However, after a series of misfortunes in the market and two mysterious explosions on the railroad, the trade stopped. The mines closed and many of the founding families of Twix Brook moved away. The railroad and port closed, slowly rotting away. Those who stayed in Twix Brook were the most stubborn, hearty, and small-minded folks who had a narrow view of what life should be.
And I, a Soiled Berry, was not part of that life plan.
The house the Council let me buy was just outside of town. At first, I could live on my own, but the Council quickly made that harder. Each month, my rent and bills went up with sneaky hidden charges. In addition to my mortgage and utilities, I found out that I was paying “air” tax and “sun” charges. Not to mention the mythical “swamp vacuum surcharge”. Soon, my money from selling paintings and photos online wasn't enough. I had to get a renter. But, who would want to rent from a Soiled Berry? I ran an ad well over a month a go, but there had been no serious takers. A few prank calls and some gawkers who wanted to see a real life Soiled Berry.
As silly as it sounded, there were still Berries who believed the old superstition that a Soiled could steal their colors.
Just as I finished cleaning the last of the frosting and cake crumbs from my kitchen, the doorbell rang. I was surprised, and figured it was probably another messenger from the Council with yet another silly reason to hike up my expenses. It was illegal to deny housing to any Berry, but they could do just about anything to make me want to move and be some other town's problem. Wiping my hands on a gray towel, I yanked open the front door.
“I swear to Berry, if you are here to tell me that you're taxing my right see or walk, I'm going to take this up with the High Council!”
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-1b-pomegranate-at-door.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-354" alt="1.1b Pomegranate at door" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-1b-pomegranate-at-door.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
The man on my porch took a step back. He was the most handsome Berry I ever laid eyes on. Dark red skin with a hint of mulberry pink, dark burgundy red hair with even darker highlights framed a strong face. His eyes were the most gorgeous turquoise blue I ever seen and the slightly scruffy beard growth only made him look dashing. There was a sweet, puppy dog quality to his looks.
“I'm sorry, I'm not here to tax you,” he said. I had to lean on the door frame at the sound of his rich, velvety voice. At that moment, I'd pay any tax by the Council if it came from him.
I blinked and shook my head. “No. No, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else. What can I do for you?” Please, I prayed, may he not be a gawker. I didn't think I could take if this handsome Berry were only there to make my existence awful.
He held up a sheet of paper. “I'm here about the room. Is it still available? I know this is short notice, but my original housing plans fell through and I could use a place to live.”
I took the paper. It was an old copy of my ad. The price for the room had changed just two weeks ago. I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping this didn't turn ugly.
“The room is still available, but there has been some changes,” I said. “The rent price is now $800, plus half utilities.”
He grinned, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Does that have anything to do with what you were, um, talking about when I showed up?”
“Yeah. I had to raise the expected rent due to several hikes in my rent. Sorry if that's a problem.”
“It's not a problem. I guess that makes sense. After all, you're not secretly changing the rent on me, so I can handle that. Will it go up more after I sign?”
I shook my head. “I'll keep it at $800 until it's time to sign the new contract. When it comes to that time, we'll talk about what we can do.”
“That sounds fair. Where do I sign?”
I smiled and held out my hand. “Well, first off, I'm Pepper Mist. We should at least know each others' names if we're going to be living together.”
“Pomegranate Crush, teacher extraordinaire.” He shook my hand, his smile lighting up his beautiful turquoise eyes. “I moved here from Sugar Valley to teach at the school and was going to stay with my brother and his wife. However, my sister-in-law announced she is pregnant and they turned my room into the nursery. So, um, here I am.”
“Come on in. The pain job is a bit gloomy, I'm afraid. It's really hard to make gray and black seem cheerful. I guess I really don't have to tell you why those are my colors.”
“I think they suit you. Though, I'm sure any color you wear would look stunning.”
“Flattery won't change the rent contract.” For the first time I was glad for my dark skin. It hid the blush.
Pomegranate grinned. “Saw through my ingenious plan, did you?” He laughed, and I wasn't sure if he was kidding or not.
I gave him the tour of the house. It wasn't much and only took a few minutes to show him the downstairs. I got a three-story house, but it was tiny. The main floor held the kitchen, living room, half bath and laundry room. All decorated in various shades of black and gray. Then we headed up to the second floor, which held our rooms and a full bath. Pomegranate paused to look at the photographs in his room.
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-1c-touching-artwork.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-355" alt="1.1c Touching artwork" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-1c-touching-artwork.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
“Wow! These are really good! Where did you get these? These look like originals by Profane.”
“Um, I took these. It's my hobby. I go around Twix Brook and take pictures of whatever catches my fancy. All of the pictures in your room are from a broken pier just outside of town.” I didn't want him to know that Profane was my pseudonym for my artwork. I had a feeling that most of my buyers wouldn't pay a single cent if they knew I was a Soiled. As Profane, I could keep my identity a secret. I didn't know Pomegranate well enough to let him in on my secret.
He reached out one finger to trace the glass over the bare wooden bones of the pier that had once been used to transport good in and out of Twix Brook. “You really captured the emotion of the place well. It's so sad and lonely.” His velvety voice was soft with wonderment. “You'd give Profane a run for his money.”
“His money?”
“Yeah. Everyone says Profane is a guy.” He looked back at me. “Do you think Profane's a girl?”
I shrugged. “Why not? No one knows the real identity of Profane. He...or she...could be anyone.”
“True.”
“I have happier pictures, if you want. I mean, if the black and white pictures are too gloomy. I have a few colorful pictures or some sepia ones.”
“I will be honored to have any pictures you've taken on the walls.”
I took him up through my room to the study on the third floor. When we passed by the pictures of my sister and my family, he paused. At the time I put them up, I had seen it as a tribute to my flesh and blood. But as I watched Pomegranate reach up and trace a finger down Vanilla's portrait as lovingly as he had the picture of the pier, I felt fearful.
“Who are these people?”
“My family. That one there is my twin, Vanilla. She and her husband are still traveling the globe.”
He looked closer at the picture and then at the ones of my parents. He turned back to me. “I can see the similarity. You really take after your dad. And Vanilla and you are identical.”
“I don't see it. We're supposed to be twins, but I got the short end of the stick.” Obviously. My twin was a treasured light colored Berry. The white and pale coloring of her skin and hair made her desirable. And her husband was a bright flame-orange Berry. Their kids would look striking. I was too dark to pass on any genes.
“I don't think so.”
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-1d-pepper-looking-down.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-356" alt="1.1d Pepper looking down" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-1d-pepper-looking-down.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
I didn't have the courage to ask him what he meant by that. Instead, I scuffed the toe of my shoe on the ground and mumbled that the tour was over. We went back down to the kitchen so we could sign the rental contract and go to the courthouse. He would have to formally log in his personal colors so, should he repaint his room, the Council knew what was allowed. It might take a month or more before he would be given the okay on repainting. It depended on how fast the Council of Sugar Valley was in handling such requests with Twix Brook.
Part of me couldn't wait to see him repaint the room. The idea of having a room with even the smallest touch of red or turquoise made me quiver. To someone who had thought she'd live her whole life trapped in monotone gray, red was an adventure.
Chapter Two: Deserving
It took two months before the Council in Sugar Valley sent the correct paperwork to confirm Pomegranate's colors. Once that was done, he eagerly painted his room. The colors of pomegranate red and turquoise blue made the room pop. Though, much to my surprise, Pomegranate didn't spend all his time in his room as I thought he would. He went to work and would come home to grade papers, and then spend his evening watching TV with me or exercising. He said he got a rush from the exercise, and I knew I got a rush from watching him walk around half naked.
Did I mention the man had a fantastic body?
During the day, while Pomegranate worked, I did my own work. I painted or went around Twix Brook to take pictures. With my very handsome roommate, I found my mind wandering less and less on my tasks and more and more on him. When I took pictures of the forgotten and lost parts of Twix Brook's history, I would wonder what Pomegranate would think of it. When I painted a picture, I had to concentrate or I'd find myself painting him.
I ruined far too many canvases that way. I had no idea what I could do. I was slowly going mad. Sometimes, when Pomegranate was working, I'd sneak into his room just to lay on his bed and stare at the colorful walls. I pictured my house with a mixture of red, turquoise and gray, the way it would be if I married Pomegranate.
It didn't take long for me to snap out of that part of my foolish daydreams. I was a Soiled. As nice as he was to me, there was no way he'd ever find me attractive. Especially not when I learned that he was the object of attention from his female coworkers. And when they learned he was living at my house...it was not pleasant.
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“What could a Soiled Berry ever hope to give someone like Pomegranate? You're probably barren anyway.”
“A Berry as vibrant as Pomegranate deserves a wife with an equally colorful plumage. Something in blue to balance the red. Not black.”
“Don't you dare steal his colors, you Soiled ******”
The calls and letters poured in, more and more every day. How his coworkers found the time to harass me and do their jobs was beyond me. I was careful to delete the messages from the machine before Pomegranate got home, and shred the letters. I was sure Pomegranate noticed that I was often silent and withdrawn, but he probably figured that was just my personality.
“I might be home late tonight,” I called out as Pomegranate left one morning. “I'm going to take some pictures of the far side of town.”
“Okay. See you when you get home.” Pomegranate waved as he left. I only stayed in the house long enough to intercept the mail and throw the threats away. Then I ran out to snap my pictures. I went to the most desolate area of Twix Brook I could find, and felt at peace as I knew none of the Berries would follow me out here.
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-2b-landscapes.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-375" alt="1.2b Landscapes" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-2b-landscapes.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
I quite liked the most ruined parts of Twix Brook. In many ways, they reminded me of myself. Quiet, off to the side, could be useful if they allowed me to be – all the things that the lonely, decaying sections of Twix Brook represented. I stayed out later than I thought I would, wanting to get that perfect picture of the sunset.
When I got home, I was feeling relieved and calm. However, as I walked in, I saw Pomegranate standing at the table. In his hand was the letters I had thrown away. He was reading them, but he must have heard me. He looked up, and the pain on his face cut right through to my heart. It was a look I wasn't expecting. Wouldn't he be thrilled to know that the other Berries were keeping me in my place? I could remember the look on Vanilla's face the first time she found out someone was teasing me.
<i> “You just don't belong,” she told me. “Look at you. No colors of your own. You're just sucking in the color around you. A real Berry would reflect something back. Look at me. I have white in my coloring. I'm generously reflecting back everything. You're just selfish, Pepper. That's why everyone hates you.”</i>
“Pepper?” Pomegranate's voice brought me back to the present.
“I thought I threw those away,” I said. “Where did you find them?”
“Pepper, why didn't you tell me this was going on?” He tapped the letters against the table.
“I didn't think it concerned you,” I said. I snatched the letters from him and quickly stuffed them back in the trash. “It's nothing I can't handle.”
“It's not right. You shouldn't have to go through all of this.”
I shrugged. “I'm used to it. I got it a lot as a kid if I was seen. They'll get tired of bothering me eventually.” I knew the eventually would be when Pomegranate started dating. Then, all of the hate poured on me would be turned on whatever Berry he picked. And then, slowly, it would stop because she would be accepted among the fold.
Pomegranate grabbed my arms and forced me to look at him. “Listen to me, Pepper. I wish I knew when this started. I don't like any of them threatening you. They have no right.”
“I'm a Soiled, Pomegranate. I'm not even supposed to exist! You saw the pictures of my parents and my sister. All of them are light colored, and I'm a Soiled! That's why I get these letters.” My voice cracked as he pulled me into an embrace. “I'm Soiled and that's why.”
“I'm so sorry, Pepper. This is all my fault. When they stopped saying things to me at work, I thought it was over. I didn't know they were attacking you.”
“What do you mean, your fault?”
Pomegranate's soft lips pressed against my cheek. “At first, they said so many horrible things about you to my face. The teachers and the kids, all of them were so mean. I got angry and told them to stop, that you were the kindest, sweetest Berry I knew. They accused me of liking you.”
I sniffled. “And?”
“And they were right about that. I do like you, Pepper. From the moment you opened the door and stood there, all fire and passion. The more time I spend with you, the more I can see what a wonderful Berry you are.”
I looked up at him, at the compassion in his turquoise eyes. “I like you too, Pomegranate.” I knew I more than just liked him. I was in love. But, I'd take like over hate any day.
He slowly bent down and my heart raced. I knew what was going to happen. I had dreamed of this since meeting him. Those beautiful, soft lips pressed against mine. It was a little hesitant at first, but when he didn't pull back or push me away, I leaned a bit more into him.
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-2c-pepper-and-pom-kissing.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-376" alt="1.2c Pepper and Pom kissing" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-2c-pepper-and-pom-kissing.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
It was like a dam breaking. One second, we were engaged in the most innocent and sweet kiss imaginable, and the next it was like we were drowning. I clung to him as the kiss deepened and his tongue swept my mouth. I could taste him, and he tasted of sweet berries and chocolate. His hands were everywhere, hot against my skin as they found their way under my shirt.
We pulled apart long enough to catch our breath. Then he was kissing me again. His lips migrated from my mouth, down my neck, and teased along the collar of my shirt. I took a step back and found myself leaning back on the table. Looking down, I saw my dark hand on the red flesh of his arm.
It was that image – the black against the color – that pulled me from the lustful haze I had fallen into. I couldn't do this! What if this was a fluke and he really didn't want me like this? What if he regretted it afterward?
What if he came to hate me?
I pushed him off me and ran upstairs. I locked myself in my room. I heard him following me, but I felt ashamed. Pomegranate was too nice for me to ruin him like that.
“Pepper? What's wrong? Did I do something wrong? I'm really sorry...I just...I thought you wanted that too. Please, I'm sorry.”
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-2d-pepper-at-door.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-377" alt="1.2d Pepper at door" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-2d-pepper-at-door.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
It took me a few tries to answer him to realize I was sobbing. Finally, I choked out, “We can't! Good Berry, Pomegranate, believe me, I want to be with you. But we can't. You deserve better than me.”
There was silence, and I thought he left. Then, softly, he said, “Pepper, there is no one better than you. I may not deserve you, but I want to try to be worthy of you.”
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-2d-pom-at-door.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-378" alt="1.2d Pom at door" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-2d-pom-at-door.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
Chapter Three: Late night chats
The days and weeks after the incident became tense. I kept waiting for Pomegranate to tell me he hated me, or that he was moving, or that it was all a mistake. I avoided him, frightened of seeing disgust in his eyes. I wasn't sure what led him to kiss me, but I just knew he'd realize what a mistake it was. I clung to the memory of how he felt and smelled and tasted in that moment. I knew it wouldn't be long before memories were all I had left.
Pomegranate, for his part, was making it nearly impossible for me to move on. This treatment was a hundred times more cruel than if he just laughed at me and ignored me. I'd find trinkets by my door in the morning, notes filled with his loving words, and he'd cook dinner every night with the hopes of me joining him. I'd find the leftovers in the fridge the next day with more notes. I had no one to turn to and figure this out. I was so used to people ignoring me, that his attention frightened me.
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In a desperate attempt, I created a new online profile. This one was just a faceless young Berry I named Rainbow who needed advice. I kept my colors out of it and refused to answer any questions in that direction. I met a man in a chatroom who offered to help me. He never told me much about himself, but we talked while he was on his lunch break, and sometimes into the night.
PCBerryMan: Okay, let me get this straight: There is a guy who adores you and wants to be with you, but you're scared he'll wake up and leave you someday?
Rainbow: Yeah. Well, I'm sure he'll realize we're not suited. I mean, everyone else who knows us says it too.
PCBerryMan: What is with you girls? I've got the same thing on my end. A perfectly lovely girl who thinks she's not good enough. You know, just because some bullies in school said those things doesn't make it true.
Rainbow: It's more complicated than that. See, he's the first guy I have ever fallen in love with. I'm scared.
PCBerryMan: Then what is stopping you? Sometimes, getting hurt is part of the process. Listen, the most romantic story I ever heard was of my many-times-great-grandparents. They were told they could never be together. Some of the same stupid color reasons that are still going on today. But they did all they could to be together, even if it meant the death of some of their children for not having the right color combinations. And do you know what?
Rainbow: What?
PCBerryMan: According to my grandmother, my many-times-great-grandmother wouldn't have had it any other way. She loved that man with all her heart and cherished every moment. “It was better to love and feel pain, than to never have loved at all.”
What he said made me think. Would it be better to take a chance with Pomegranate and know the combination of love and loss, or just hide away and always wonder what could have been? I could save my heart from ever being hurt, but at what price?
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-3b-pepper-and-pom-eat.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-398" alt="1.3b Pepper and Pom eat" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-3b-pepper-and-pom-eat.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
After that, I tried to make it up to Pomegranate a little at a time. I started taking meals down in the kitchen instead of hiding until he was in bed. He never mentioned my absence. When I slowly started joining him for movies after dinner, he welcomed me. But not with the same open arms as before. He held back and was careful for us to not touch.
Was this a sign that he had stopped wanting me?
PCBerryMan: I think it's a sign he's worried. After all, you said you pretty much cut off all communication from from him. Maybe he's scared to get close and have you run away again.
Rainbow: What should I do?
PCBerryMan: Try talking to him. Explain your side of things. Listen to his. Figure out how to move forward.
Rainbow: Sure. How are things on your end?
PCBerryMan: Getting better. My future better half has started talking to me again.
I continued to move forward with my plans. It was a slow process. I may not have had a lot of experience around other Berries, but I did know that just giving signals and not talking would get me no where.
“Pomegranate, we need to talk,” I said one night.
“Those words have been known to chill the blood of even the strongest men. What's up?”
“Well, first of all, I wanted to apologize about how I've been acting. It wasn't fair to you.” I twisted my fingers nervously. “The thing is, you're really the first Berry to ever be nice to me. I'm not used to it. I keep expecting you to just tell me that it was all a joke.”
“I'm not going to do that, Pepper. Please, understand when I say that I like you, that I care about you, it's all true.” He pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “I would never do anything to knowingly hurt you.”
“So, you're not regretting kissing me?”
He shook his head. “Not in the way you think. The only thing I regret is that I scared you.”
“You do realize that I'm Soiled.”
His eyes opened wide. "You're a Soiled? Oh, my Berry! Why didn't you ever tell me?" At my very unamused look, he said, “I don't care. All those idiots talking about you hoarding colors or stealing them is false. Think about it, Pepper. Because you hold on to all colors, that makes you the most colorful Berry in existence. All the others value pale colors, but you are the very picture of what they desire.”
“Do you really think so?”
He took my hand and led me to the couch. Sitting, he said, “I do. I hear it all the time at school. All those teenage Berries talking about how this girl or that girl doesn't have the right colors. How this girl is too dark or that girl has too much monotone. In the end, it means nothing. They only care about color. And you, Pepper, have every color of the rainbow.”
“I never thought of it like that.”
Pomegranate smiled. “Do you want to know a secret?”
“Sure.”
“I have a Soiled Berry in my family tree.”
I gasped. “How? You look so normal.”
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-3c-pepper-and-pom-talking.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-399" alt="1.3c Pepper and Pom talking" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-3c-pepper-and-pom-talking.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
“I am normal.” He leaned forward, arms on his knees. “It happened many generations ago. My grandmother's grandmother I believe. Anyway, she was this beautiful blue Berry and she fell in love with a Soiled Berry. Their love was forbidden, of course. The Council at the time had just passed the law that Soileds couldn't be killed on sight, but they did all they could to destroy my ancestors. Any baby born with too many Soiled features mysteriously died in the crib. Just up and died in the middle of the night.”
“I'm so sorry,” I whispered. “That must have been awful for them.”
“It was. They weren't allowed to marry, but that didn't stop them from living together. The few kids who survived became my family tree.” He took my hand. “It's better to love and feel pain than to never love at all.”
I stiffened. “What did you say?” Now that I thought of it, his story seemed familiar.
“I said, it's better to love and feel pain than never to love at all. It's a rule my family has lived by ever since. We follow our hearts, even if that means getting hurt in the end.”
“You wouldn't happen to be giving advice out on the net, were you?”
Pomegranate laughed. “Yeah, I have been. Most of the problems that seem to come my way are all the same. A lot of Berries don't feel worthy of the one they love because of this stupid preoccupation with colors and the net gives them a place to be anonymous about it. I've found that the net is a great way to reach my students without them worrying about who knows about their problems. Why? Do you need advice? My handle is PCBerryMan.”
I shook my head. “I'm Rainbow.”
His smile slipped a little. “You're Rainbow! I...I'm sorry, Pepper. I didn't know. I wasn't prying into your life or anything. I swear.”
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-3d-pepper-decides-to-trust.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-400" alt="1.3d Pepper decides to trust" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-3d-pepper-decides-to-trust.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
My first instinct was to run up to my room, to swear him off forever. He knew my innermost thoughts and feelings. I had told him about himself, and how he was the first guy I ever loved. All of my soul had been bared to him. But, he really didn't know. And I was tired of living without him. His advice had been right, and I wanted to feel loved. If I lost him in the end, I would rather have the happy memories of us together than a void of what could have beens.
“It's okay. I think it all worked out for the best.” With that, I leaned closer to him and kissed him.
Chapter Four: Pomegranate's Theory
“Come on back to bed, Pepper. It's too early to be up.” Pomegranate reached across the bed to where I had lain, sleepily pleading with me to return.
“I can't. I am so far behind on my paintings, it's not funny. I need to make money,” I said. I took his hand and kissed it.
“You're so beautiful when you're determined.”
Ever since our little talk, things between Pomegranate and I had improved. Though my situation with the other Berries in town hadn't, at least things were peaceful at home. Pomegranate and I were unofficially dating. The letters and phone calls continued, but now I had Pomegranate at my side.
He even fought with the Council on our behalf. Pomegranate knew more about Berry law than I did, and proved to them through the Council's own words that any two Berries could be together. If he wanted to spend the rest of his life with a Soiled, he could, and it would be legal.
I found myself happier with Pomegranate than I had ever been. While he taught, I painted and took pictures. What had normally been a quiet past time for me was now filled with humming and songs. That was what Pomegranate did to me.
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One day, while he was at work, I got a surprise visit from my sister. Vanilla showed up on my doorstep and did not look very happy about being there.
“Your house is so dark,” she complained. “It's like a prison.”
“I can't help what colors the Council gave me.”
“You should see my home. It's very bright and cheery.”
“I'm sure it is.”
I led Vanilla into the house and offered to sit out on the back porch. She was very obvious about not touching anything.
“I came here to tell you something very important,” Vanilla said. “I mean, it's all over Twix Brook.”
“What is?”
“You and this Pomegranate fellow. That the two of you are together.”
I smiled. “We are. Did you come by to congratulate us?”
Vanilla sneered. “Of course not. I came to warn you. You shouldn't get your hopes up, Pepper. You're a Soiled. There is no way the Council will ever approve of the two of you together. Not to mention any kids.” She eyed me. “You're not pregnant, are you?”
“No.”
“That's good. You must have just gained weight.”
I bristled under her comments. “Listen, Vanilla, I'm happy with Pomegranate. And he loves me just the way I am.”
“You are so blind, Pepper. He can't love you. You'll be the ruin of him. You're just exciting for now, but when he finds a Berry worthy of his attention, he'll leave you behind. That's just the way things are.”
I studied my sister for a moment. “Pomegranate isn't like that. What makes you think he'll leave me?”
“Besides the fact that you can't produce colorful children? That's just how men are. They like colorful Berries, to see their kids in a rainbow of colors. There is no way he'll be happy with someone as selfish as you.”
I had the sudden horrible feeling that Vanilla wasn't really talking about me. “How are things with you,” I asked.
“Oh, fine. Never better. New house, setting up a nursery, got a promotion at work. I'm doing great.”
“And the guy you married?”
“He's doing great. We're both great.”
Three 'greats' in a row. She was lying. While I wasn't sure what was going on in her marriage, and I knew she wouldn't tell me, I could guess. From her comments, I'd say that Mr. Perfect wasn't really perfect.
“Pomegranate and I are doing great, too. My paintings are selling wonderfully, I'm able to make my rent, and he's doing well at his job. No matter what, I will never regret our time together.”
Vanilla sniffed. “We'll just see about that when reality comes crashing down.”
After Vanilla left, I couldn't stop myself from thinking over what I had learned. My perfect sister with all her perfect genes was unhappy. Not even being a Pale Berry could save her from heartbreak. What did that mean for me?
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-4b-pepper-and-pom-talk.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-420" alt="1.4b Pepper and Pom talk" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-4b-pepper-and-pom-talk.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
I waited for Pomegranate to come home. Maybe if I asked him his intentions, it would set my mind at ease. I really couldn't picture my life without him.
“I just really need to know whether or not this is a phase or the real thing,” I said. “I really hate to put you on the spot, Pomegranate, but I keep having Berries tell me the most awful things and I just get worried.”
“I understand,” Pomegranate said. “Listen, Pepper, I do love you. I love how beautiful you look when you smile, I love that when you laugh you sometimes snort, I love how your face lights up when you're painting, and I really love the little sounds you make when we make love. And that's just the superficial things I love. I love you, Pepper. I love hearing about your day and your dreams. I love listening to you breathe at night as you lie in my arms. I think about our future all the time. Don't worry about what others say. They are not us.”
“What if we do have children? What if they are all Soiled?”
“Then I would love each and ever one of them because they look like you.” Pomegranate smiled, running his hand through his hair. “Pepper, I have a theory about Soileds. It's not a popular one, but one that I noticed in my own family tree. Now, we reflect a color and that's the color we pass on, right?”
“Right.”
“And sometimes, there is a mutation where a color not found in the immediate generation can shine through. That's how we can have a Red Berry and a Yellow Berry produce a Blue Berry child. Right.”
“Yeah, I've heard of that.”
“That's because we all possess all the colors, we just reflect certain ones. It's easier to force a Pale or White Berry to reflect a new color because all you are doing is just turning the dial of that color up.”
I shrugged. I knew it was easier to pass on color genes the paler the Berry. I guess his explanation made sense.
“So, the way I see it, you possess all the colors, Pepper. You may not reflect any of them, but you possess them. That means, you have the ability to have very colorful children. You're the most perfect Berry out there, and they just don't know it yet.”
“What makes you say that?”
Pomegranate grinned. “I came from a Soiled Berry, remember. My family line didn't have any shades of red until those kids. So, think about it. How could a family that only bred blues and greens suddenly produce a red? It's because of all the colors my many-times-great-grandfather possessed. I'm sure of it.”
“I don't want to be some kind of experiment, Pomegranate.”
“You're not, Pepper. I promise. Any child I have with you will be out of love. No matter the color, I will love that child. I just feel that the Council is going about this whole Soileds business the wrong way. All of us have color.”
The way he said it, it made sense to me. Because of Pomegranate, I started daring to do more. I went into town a bit more and didn't let the stares or name-calling bother me. We even went out on dates, though they had to be well planned out since there were still restaurants that refused to cater to a Soiled. For the moment, my life was wonderful.
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-4c-pepper-sic.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-421" alt="1.4c Pepper sic" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-4c-pepper-sic.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
That is, until I started to get sick. For days on end, I found myself running to the bathroom and emptying the contents of my stomach. I was too scared to go to a doctor. I had read horror stories of what doctors did to Soiled Berries, though the stories were only horrific to me. To other Berries, they were just ordinary news stories with words of hope. I didn't want to take the chance that I got some doctor who wanted to experiment on me.
When the sickness lasted for two weeks, I realized what my symptoms indicated. I called up Vanilla and begged her to bring me a pregnancy test. She did, and while I waited for the results she sobbed about how her husband was cheating on her with some bright blue Berry. She had a kid at home and her life should have been great.
“Um, we now have another problem,” I said, holding up the stick. “I'm pregnant.”
“You have to get rid of the baby,” Vanilla said. “What if it's a Soiled?”
“I want to keep it. What if Pomegranate's ideas are true? What if I can have a colored baby? At least I owe it to him to tell him he's going to be a father.”
“No one is going to like that, Pepper. Soileds are not allowed to breed.”
I shook my head. “No, they are. The law about killing Soiled babies was repealed ages ago. I can have babies and not fear that they will be killed on sight. After all, how do you think I managed to survive birth? Besides, this baby is part of Pomegranate, and that means that there is a chance he or she will show his colors.”
Vanilla huffed. “Don't come crying to me when the order comes to kill the baby.”
<a href="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-4d-pepper-tells-pom-news.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-422" alt="1.4d Pepper tells Pom news" src="http://steffstarsim3.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/1-4d-pepper-tells-pom-news.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>
Luckily, when Pomegranate heard, he was more excited about the news. He swept me up in a hug and laughed. “We're having a baby! We're having a baby!”
“No matter what, we'll love this child,” I said. “Soiled or not.”
“Pepper, I will love this child as much as I love you.” He kissed me and all felt right in the world.
They have adorable babies. Just you wait.
Thank you! That's an honor!
I'm excited about this baby! I want to see it! ^_^
Baby pics won't come until Ch. 7, which I'm writing. My posting will slow down in July, though. I have two major events going on in that month.
1) Camp Nano! I'm writing a 50K book (which is also for a contest).
2) New job!
So, I might only be posting my legacies once a week instead of two to three times a week.