GREEN, Pepper Ann

PEPPER ANN GREEN

Let's get to the point and all take our tongues out
And not show off our scars; not leave here with doubts that
Things in life, well they could've been easier

Note for administrative use: This interview was conducted over electronic means to accommodate the interviewee, who has a clinically diagnosed stutter. The answers sent via the Instant Messenger client were not altered before they were pasted on this interview sheet.

Hey there, glad you could join us. So first thing's first, what do we call you?
My name is Pepper Ann Green. Yeah, that’s really it.. Most people call me ‘Pep’ and I’m not really sure if it’s better or worse than my full name. You want to know how I got called Pepper Green? The people from the orphanage found me in a box of green peppers. They were either a rather bored bunch or they really didn’t have any creativity amongst them. Either way, I got called after the vessel I was dumped in. My middle name came along a bit later and it was given to me because of a show called ‘Pepper Ann’ that was apparently popular back then. Again: bored or very lacking. Do I wish I had a better name? Most times. But then again, I’m not exactly a ‘normal’ person, so perhaps it’s good my name reflects that. I’ll never change my name, no matter how much I may dislike it, because it’s one of the only things I really own. And, no, I’m not being sappy on purpose. Just factual. I was told to be straight, honest and factual in this thing.
Okay, got it. And how old are you, if you don't mind me asking?
“At this very moment I’m fifteen, but I’m turning sixteen soon. They estimate my birthday is roughly around the 20th of May. Nobody can be positive, though, so we kind of just make it that day and hope for the best. It makes me wonder, though, if I was kept for a few days after I was born or if I was dumped right away. I know it shouldn’t make a difference but… it does. And as far as I remember this is a private interview, so I trust that school or not this won’t be shown to anybody. I don’t want any of the school staff or any of the guys to see this. I’ll just tell them you made it all up if you do show – I know my rights.
Anyway. If I get the scholarship to Hallows Edge Academy then I’ll be a Sophomore. It’ll be strange to be in an actual school instead of being taught by Audra. But everybody says school is important and blah blah so I’m doing this and I’m feeling rather excited about it.
Mhm and, now don't take this the wrong way, but are you a guy or a girl?
The last time I checked I was definitely a woman. I got all the girl bits and none of the guy bits. I didn’t mean I wasn’t normal in this way.
And are you straight, gay or...?
Uh…Why exactly do you need to know this, anyway?
I’m straight, I guess. I mean, all the people I’ve had crushes on were guys. But I suppose that tells you nothing, right? And I can’t be one-hundred-percent positive here because I’ve never had that sort of relationship with anybody. Not one I’ve willingly instigated, anyway. But I’ve never found any girls pretty in THAT way. So I’m going with straight, but if I’m proved wrong somewhere in the future (unlikely but you never know) then I’ll let you know.
Have we met before? You look so familiar!
‘Any resemblances to any persons alive or dead is purely coincidental’. Seriously, though, you’ve never seen me before. Just leave it at that, alright? We don’t want things to get sticky.
Oh! But I was told I look a lot like Ariana Grande, if that helps.

Excellent. Now, for the benefit of our readers, how would you describe your appearance?
Didn’t I send through a picture in the beginning of this?
Okay, fine.
I’m a typical nearly-sixteen-year-old in height and body… proportions and whatever. I might be a little skinner than I should be but that’s not intentional. I have two ears, a normal nose, two brown eyes and long hair. It’s naturally dark brown but I dyed it this shade of red recently. This comes from a bottle that I got for my last birthday from the whole family. They all saved up for heaven knows how long to get it for me. And so I wear it with pride. I’m pale in complexion and have ten fingers and ten toes. That’s me in a nutshell.
And if a stranger had to spot you in a crowd what should they look out for?
Style? Uhm… Whatever’s affordable and not completely worn out? Mostly it’s jeans and a shirt, because those are the most common finds in any of the stores we go to. I have one or two dresses and skirts, though, and I love them rather a lot. They make me feel feminine, but not in the ‘I’m sexy, eat me’ kind of way. I dunno. I guess I like wearing them because they make me feel a little more… delicate is the only word I can come up with right now, but it’s not exactly right. I only wear them on special occasions or days when I need to feel good about myself for confidence or happiness because I can’t afford them to break or wear out.
I don’t have any tattoos – Audra would go sparse, I think, if I even thought of getting one. The same with piercings in strange places. I have my ears done, though. And for a home job I am very proud of how symmetrical they are.
What's the first thing this stranger would notice about you?
I try very, very hard to make the answer to this question ‘nothing’. I don’t want to stand out, and for my family it’s a very, very good thing when I don’t .
I have to pick one thing?
Okay then: my hair. It’s bright red – people are bound to notice it.
Let's just say this stranger decides to observe you for a bit - any habits or quirks they might notice?
I tend to have trouble with looking people in the eye. I was taught that it’s disrespectful and I still can’t really get that lesson out of my head with strangers or people I don’t know very well. I don’t do it with my family, though. When I’m angry or frustrated I always cross my arms and grip my elbows. It’s my alternative of clenching my fists really hard. And I tend to stare at people without noticing when I’m thinking. Apparently that’s very creepy.
So this creepy stranger, what would their first impression of your character be?
Quiet, shy, unimportant. Not worth noticing much.
And that’s the way I want it to be. Only people who have something worthy to give can get away with drawing attention to themselves. I might have something to say, but it’s almost never the popular opinion and I can never say it. Not unless it’s written down, and even then I don’t have enough schooling to structure essays the way they’re supposed to be structured. And, as I mentioned before, for my family blending in is needed.
Of course, sometimes I’m seen as the rude girl – the one who never greets you back or keeps up conversation with you or wants to partake in your conversations, as though I think I’m better than you. If this is what the stranger sees… I’d laugh. Because nothing is farther than the truth – I’m better than no one in this town.

So, sport, you got any hobbies?
I don’t have any.
No, really, I don’t have any.
I’m not athletic, I’m not very academic, I’m not arty or musical or anything like that. In my spare time I listen to music – mostly what the kids are blasting out the TV – and read either fairytales or comic books, depending on which gender won the coin toss.
The only thing I really do other than that is help the family out with some activities and sing to myself in the shower. I’m fluent when I sing, and that thrills me.
Uhm… I suppose I can squeeze into tight spaces and run rather fast. And I know how to throw a punch. So if HEA ever opens up a violent-swift-contortionist club then I’ll join that.
Interesting! And what about the things you like the most?
The sunshine and the outdoors.
Chocolate milk.
Watching people use sign language. I think it’s the prettiest language in the world.
Sleeping in late. Anything past seven AM.
Dancing, even though I know I suck at it. Dancing in the rain is the only time I can stand that type of weather.
Romancy stuff. If books and movies are the only places that sort of thing exists, then I want to consume as much of it as I can.
Ghost-story-Saturdays. When all of the kids and some of the bigger kids and some of the older guys and I all squash into a home-made tent with torches and a recording of a dog howling in pain that’s supposed to be scary but actually just makes us all cry with laughter.
Eating the toppings off a pizza first and then only eating the base.
Singing. Even though I probably suck at it.
The colour pink. Don’t judge.
Disney movies. See above.
And there's gotta be things you don't like too, right?
The rain. It’s too gloomy and too wet and it keeps kids with too much energy inside one room. Not a good thing.
Fashion. I just don’t understand why people with money would want to spend it on ‘the latest trend’. Just buy normal clothes that look the same and spend your cash on better things.
Mockers/snobs/bullies. Just because somebody is weaker, smaller or less in the eyes of society does not make it alright for you to attack them. Especially when they can’t stand up for themselves. Not only does this hit a personal button that makes me see red, but it also just annoys me in general. People need to grow up.
Dogs. I’m scared of them.
The idolatry people give to sex, as though it’s the best and only thing in the world. Personally, I think it’s been turned into a weapon and given to dangerous people. It’s NOT something to be worshipped or killed for like everybody seems to think.
People who think they own me because they’re older than me or have some degree or something. If you want my respect, you have to earn it. And I follow nobody but Mia.
‘Gangsta’ music.
Peas.
Dishonesty.
Having to speak in public. Having to speak to anybody I don’t know at all. I hate it. I hate not being able to speak. I hate the pity worse than the disgust. I hate that everything I have in my head refuses to come out right and that I have to fight with every syllable. I hate it.
Great! So are you keeping any secrets? Don't worry, I swear I won't tell.
If I get in to this place I’m not going to stay in the dorm I’m assigned. I’m going to go right back to Mia’s flat, where I’ve stayed for years, and I’ll come to school from there every morning. Nothing’s taking me from my family.
Again, if this gets out I’m denying it.
I’m a virgin.
Oh, he was going to rape me. Audra just came before he could. She assumed he’d already done the deed and I let her. It’s easier to explain why I dislike the notions of sex so much with that background in mind. But actually, I just hate the idea.
My lips are sealed. Now, what would you say is your best quality?
Audra calls me ‘MBIT’, said like ‘Em-Bee-It’. It stands for Mother Bear In Training. I’m typing under correction, here, but my best trait is the fact that I’m naturally mothering. I gotta take care of those younger than me. I can’t promise I’m really all that good at it – I just love doing it. I want to give anything smaller and weaker than me the love and safety I never had.
Again – no sap, just facts.
And your worst? C'mon, no one's perfect, kiddo.
I’m shy, I’m too trusting, I hold grudges, I lash out when I’m angry… Need I go on?

Now how about the other people in your life, let's talk family.
I don’t know my blood family. I don’t know if they’re alive or how many there are or even if they exist. I’m all of me I have in this world.
But if you’re looking for the people closest to the description of ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ I’ll point you toward Mia and Audra. And then I have about eleven ‘uncles’ and ‘aunts’ – all ex-gang members or honorary members. And all my siblings.
Any pets?
No, no room. Seeley tried to keep a bird, once. It flew away. We had to make up some story that it went back to its family and that it was happy there. She still swears ‘her bird’ comes back and sings to her every morning.
You're doing great, just a few more questions. So where are you from?
I dunno where I was born, but I was raised right here. Hallow’s Edge is a beautiful town and it must be great for the middle class and perfect for the rich. For me, it’s just a town that has so much that’s out of my reach. It’s easier than the big city, I’ve heard, so I’ll probably never leave. But I hate how it taunts me.
I see, cool. So how come you ended up at HEA?
Mia and Audra. They heard about the scholarship program and got it into their heads that I had to go to school with the rest. I protested, of course, but they were firm. And I can’t ever say no to them. Mia always, always knows best, anyway.
Almost done. So anything else we should know about you?
The Hallows Edge House For Children got a little surprise delivered with their groceries on the morning of the 22nd of May. In amongst the green peppers lay a baby girl wrapped in plastic. I suppose that should make me grateful the plastic wasn’t branded – If I was called ‘Wal-Mart’ I think I’d just about die. There’s also a bit of a debate as to whether the plastic was supposed to cover me up or suffocate me. None of the women at the House would ever talk to me about it and they made it seem so strange that a five-year-old was asking about such things that I eventually shut up about it all. Anyway, I was taken in and raised by the workers of the House and I can’t remember anything that was terrible. Some of the women were strict and some of them a bit short but looking back I can understand why – there were too many of us and not enough them, let alone enough money. They did their best, though, and even though it wasn’t the greatest it was enough.

At age eight I got given the only gift an orphan wants: a family. The couple had been flittering around the House for a while and finally decided on me. I was to go to their house for six months as a foster child and if everything worked out they could then apply for adoption and sign the papers and all the other legalities. I can’t remember much about my ‘Mother’. I remember less about my ‘Father’, but that’s because that’s how I want it to be. The only thing I can really remember is being unable to sleep in my own bed for the first three weeks – having my own room and my own bed just felt wrong. I was used to snoring, crying, noisy blanket-stealers. If I knew then what I know about my ‘Father’ now, I’d never go near his bed, let alone sleep in it with him there. Ignorance is bliss.

I liked how quiet and intimate they were – they hardly ever spoke to each other or to me, but this was a welcome change. I mean, even back then I knew the way I speak isn’t something most people like. So the quiet was favourable and less frustrating and it made me feel… like I could belong and be silent at once. I liked that. I thought I’d learn to love them.

As soon as the adoption papers were signed, the façade fell apart. The woman returned to her hometown with the money she’d been paid to act the part of the loving wife safely tucked in her pockets. Social Services checked on me, of course, but they were too busy and too underpaid to see through the lies my ‘father’ fed them. And he didn’t only lie about being married.

He ran a strip club with a difference – a house of pleasure for men and women alike. A place where young children were taught the best ways to pleasure customers and rake in money so that when they were old enough they could make him a fortune. I was made to watch things that are usually beyond R-Rated in movies, was instructed on exactly how to go about a threesome and was taught things about male and female biology that not even doctors are taught. By age ten I knew more about the theories of sex than the average fifteen-year-old. I wasn’t allowed to go to school – it was too much money and the risk was too great that somebody would find out about my home life. Instead, I was taught to read and write and do sums and to crook and pickpocket and pole dance and seduce by the women already employed in the house.

The kinder ones pitied me for my crap way of speaking. The hardened ones hated me, because silence and the shy obedience I naturally possessed were most desired in clients.

I was only on look-and-learn duty until puberty kicked in at twelve. As soon as I could fill out a bra my ‘father’ put a date on my head and started looking around for a client suitable for my first time. He needed somebody who would be willing to give him absolute feedback: he needed to know how much I was worth so he could set my rates. My first time would be a threesome, so that one of the older girls could help me out and be the second examiner on how well I’d learnt over the years.

Obviously, I’d heard of religion before. During the week leading up to my date I prayed to every god and goddess that I could find to pray to, begging one of them to save me. One of them – I don’t know which one – sent an angel. Her name is Audra.

I didn’t have a clue who she was, all I knew was that she wasn’t one of the women of the place. When she came in, two hours before my client arrived, desperation took over and I literally grabbed her and started begging. I can remember saying, “Please get me out of here. I don’t care how. I’ll go out as your slave, I’ll go out dead. Just get me out. Please!” Obviously it didn’t come out exactly like that, and when I was being dragged away by security I was so terribly, terribly afraid that she hadn’t understood me.

My client was terrifying – large, foreign and leaking danger and anger issues from every fibre of his body and clothing choice. I tried to distract him and buy myself time for a miracle of some sorts. At first he was amused. That didn’t last very long. Despite it being a threesome, the other girl was told to wait outside. She couldn’t disobey – he was paying. As soon as she left I started to beg. It helped buy me about another ten minutes while he laughed at my speaking. And then I was sure it was all over – he undressed me, threw me down and wrapped his legs around me…

I thought the noise of the door being kicked in was my world exploding around me. And then grief turned to terror as another guy pulled the client off me. If I was scared of my client, I was petrified of this new man – he looked like he could massacre the entire world without breaking a sweat. And then my angel was suddenly in the room, covering me up and trying to calm me and telling the really scary guy to leave the client and just get out. Next thing I know, scary guy is picking me up and I’m leaving in one piece.

I was sure he was going to kill me – or worse – when we got away, but I actually didn’t care. Better to die in the streets than become shit in that whorehouse. But Miasma did nothing to me except give me his shirt and stand guard while Audra explained who they were and that she was sorry for taking so long but they wouldn’t listen to her and so she had to go and get ‘Mia’ to help. For the first time in about five years, somebody held me as I cried. I loved Audra from that moment on.

And Mia… Mia is the whole world. He’s every great king and leader rolled into one person. I was scared of him for about a week. After that, I swore fealty to him for the rest of eternity. No melodrama there – again just plain truth. I’d follow Mia to the gates of hell. All of us would – that’s why he’s our leader. And he’s the best father I could ever ask for.

Audra and Mia took me back to what was the gang back then and that’s where I’ve been ever since. Members came and went as they grew up, died, got taken away and got abandoned but the core of my family never changed. I found out I liked taking care of the youngsters, so Audra took me under her wing and started to teach me how to pleasure people in a totally different way. She also continued to teach me schoolwork from her old books and notes and friends’ stuff. I got to choose my own death: I made it a simple hit-and-run. And, as previously mentioned, I let them all think Mia and Audra had been too late, that that client had his way with me before they came.

That’s me in a nutshell.

Now it's time to find out about the player! What are we to call you?
Para! Or ‘That Annoying One Who Never Shuts Up About Jayrris And Her Weird Plot Bunnies’.
And how long have you been on this planet?
18.5 years
So how long have you been trapped in the wonderful world of roleplay?
Six/Seven years now.
Any other creations of yours wandering this site?
Cedrina Simon and Mr Arrogant.
And how did you find us?
Swifty, of course. All good ideas in my Internet life come from her.
Is this app in response to a Want Ad?
YES Errr… Does this count as self-advertising??
Is there anything else we should know?
Run. I have returned.
And finally, the phrase that pays!
Mona Lisa, you’re guaranteed to run this town!

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