Roots & Flavors


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Hi, my name is Carly and I have a crazy family. I guess that's not a big deal, since we all have nutbag relatives, but when I say crazy, I mean craycray on a whole other level. 

Let me start by introducing the members of my little family-tree. First off we have Amanda, that's my mom. She's Fifty-two, but she looks like she's in her late thirties. She's a 'blond, girl-next-door' type of beauty. She goes to pilates three times a week, and refuses to eat anything greasy or sugary. 

Then we have Liya, that's my other mom. She's black and beautiful, and she's five years older than Amanda. Did I mention that we're all supposed to call them by their proper names? No, mom or mommy or la mama. They won't have any of that. They say it makes them feel old. So back to Liya. She's a dark beauty, loves watching movies, singing in the shower and has a brown belt in karate. My parents separated three years ago. They mostly get along, emphasis on the mostly. 

Moving on to the next gem in my family. Rosalee, twenty-five, she's Liya's biological child. My parents decided to each have at least one kid. Just to make sure both their bodies got ruined. That's only fair, isn't it? Rosalee or Rosa, runs our family restaurant/coffeehouse 'Roots and Colors'. She took over when Amanda went on early retirelent to travel the world. She's engaged to Max Chang and is currently preparing her wedding. She's not exactly a bridezilla, but she's very close. 

Next we have, Asiya, she's twenty-seven. Her mother was working in one of the towers on nine eleven. Her father was one of the first responders. They both died. My parents took her in. Asiya is a muslima, she wears a hijab and prays five times a day. She's also an officer of the law and takes her job very seriously. She's single and not ready to mingle. 

Rhonda is thirty, she was adopted when she was four. She's the cook at Roots and Colors, and is currently transitioning into a man. We call her Ron.

And then you have me. The woman you love to hate. I'm Amanda's biological child. I inhereted her Arian looks. Blonde, blue eyes and milky white skin. Men love me, and woman want to be me. I have perfect teeth and a hot body. Basically everybody loves me, exept me. I don't love me. But we'll get to into that later. I am a therapist. The irony right? I listen to peoples nagging all day, everyday, and I get paid for it. I get paid very well for my advise. 

I sometimes help out at the restaurant. Not much, but I do what I can. O, and did I mention that all four sisters/soon to be 'three sisters and one brother', live in a four bedroom, one flour house? What can I say, we're crazy and very close at the same time. Wanna hear more? Keep reading ...


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Chapter 1

I apologize in advance if there are any major grammatical errors, English is not my first language. Having said that, I do hope you enjoy my story :)


I was walking down Sunset Street when I heard a familiar voice. 'Who are you calling an Isis-bride?!' I looked up and saw how my sister Asiya had wrestled down a guy. She had her right knee pressed in the small of his back and a set off handcuffs in her hand. 'Who's your daddy?! Say my name!' The guy was overwhelmed by her surprising strength. Siya was short and looked like a breeze could put her down, but I knew she took power training lessons everyday and was a Krav Maga aficionado. 'You're hurting me, bitch!' Her hot partner, Micah Jones, was just leaning against the squad car, checking his messages. 

She cuffed the 'perp' effortlessly and pressed on his wrists. 'You can't go around calling people 'Bitch', that's just not right.' 

He muttered something.

'I can't hear you! You still haven't told me who your daddy was!'  

'Okay, okay, you are! Just get off me!'

I approached carefully. I didn't wanna spook her, and get shot by accident. 'Hi, what ya doing there, sis?' I asked with a slight hint of amusement.

'O, hi Carlz, just arresting this douchebag.' She pulled him up and threw him in the back of the squad car. Then she adjusted her hijab and put her sunglasses on.

'What did he do?'

'You know, the usual douchyness. So what are you doing out here?'

I glanced at sexy Micah. He put his phone down and walked towards us. 'Carly? Isn't it?' He asked with a sheepish grin. I knew what that grin meant. He was hitting on me. Or at least he was about to. Siya put herself between us. 'O, no, that's not going to happen.' 

I was offended. 'Whatever do you mean?'

Siya's face went deadpan. 'You know what I mean.' She pulled me away from Micah's sexy glares. 'Micah is my partner. No sexy looks with my partners, got it?!' 

'I don't know why you care that much. Don't tell me you have a crush on him.'

She crossed her arms over her chest. 'You know i'm not in to pretty boys. Too much hassle.' 

'Common, Siya, he seems nice.'

One of her eyebrows lifted. 'You can tell by looking at him?' 

Of course not, even I can't tell if someone's nice, by just looking at them. To be fair, I wasn't really looking at his face. 'Fine, I'll leave you to it then.' I sighed as I watched both of them get into the car and drive off. 

I continued my walk until I reached my destination. Before I went in, I looked around to see if anyone I knew was around. No one, check. I pushed through the door and walked towards the receptionist. 'Welcome to Beauty in a Box, for all your cosmetic surgery needs.'


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Chapter 2

So, you're probably wondering what I'm doing at a plastic surgeons office. Well, I don't really know myself. I already said, I didn’t really like myself. I don't understand why, so I thought maybe plastic surgery would help me. Maybe I've finally succumb to the pressure of society, forcing women to look perfect. Who knows?

The lady at the desk looked like she had taken advantage of the 'surgery needs' herself. And the result was horrible. Her lips were too poofy, her eyes looked like she was in a permanent state of terror. And I won't even mention her boobs. I just won't. They were ridiculously big. If she was there to encourage people to get something done, the owners have failed to put the right poster girl in the seat. So, yeah, I mentioned her boobs anyway. I just had to. I was about to walk away when someone called my name. 'Carly Watts?' 

I turned around and saw a woman in a lab coat. 'Hi, i'm doctor Tiuana, come on in.' Her name was very inviting. I mean, Tiuana, it was a sign right? So, I went in. 

'What can I do for you today?' she asked with a warm smile. She wasn't anything I expected a plastic surgeon to be. She looked like misses Claus. A little on the heavy side, white grandma hair and red cheeks. 'Well, i'm not sure, but I need something done. What would you suggest?' I held in my breath, hoping she'd say I looked fine. In my heart I already knew that, somewhere, maybe not in my heart, but deep down. But still, I had issues, go figure, right?

She checked me out, from top to bottom. 'You don't need any surgery. You are perfect.' I let go the breath I was holding and was about to smile. But misses Claus shattered my world with her next words. 'I'm just kidding. I just say that, so I would seem less bitchy, but the truth is, Carly, you're a trainwreck.' She came closer until her nose almost touched mine. 'You gonna want to fix that nose of yours. Too pudgy. Your eyes are a bit slanted, there's a procedure for that.' I put my index finger on my nose and pushed it flat. Then I rubbed my eyes. 'Pudgy? Slanted? Really?' 

'Yeah, really. And your cheeks could use a fill, as well as your lips.' She then looked at my hips. 'And don't get me started on those massive hips of yours.' Now, wait a minute. You could say whatever you want about my face, but I knew I had a set of hips that would never lie to anyone.  They were amazing. Because I worked hard for them to be amazing. So, I got up en left Tiuana's office. 'Carly?! Were are you going?' 

'I'm leaving! I don't need surgery.' I don't know what had gotten in to me. The receptionist’s face  should've been an indication that plastic surgery was not the answer. 


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