The Story Of How I Found Out That My Father Is (Basically) A DollEdit
When I was born, I had bright blue hair and turquoise eyes. My mother had been very young when she gave birth to me, so everybody attributed my unique appearance to the hair dyes and cosmetics that my mother liked to abuse. When I was a teenager, I began dyeing my hair and wearing colored contacts. It wasn't that I hated my looks. On the contrary, actually. I loved how special I looked. But I just wanted to appear normal next to my peers. So my hair became nut brown and my eyes were green.
I never met my father. When I first asked my mother about him, she froze in terror, as if I had just told her that I had killed someone or asked her about the birds and the bees. When I got older, she told me that he was someone very dear to her heart and that he was unlike any man alive. I chocked it up to being lovesick.
For as long as I could remember, my mother behaved oddly. She slept in the basement while I was relegated to the second floor. She would shut herself in her room for hours at a time, and sometimes, late at night, I could hear her chattering away to someone. When I asked her about it, she would always give me some long-winded story about wonderous experiments and near-breakthroughs. She was a scientist, after all. I ate up the story. I just couldn't handle the fact that my mom was a nutcase.
Life went on. I became a Young Adult. I opted not to go to school and threw myself into a promising medical career. I worked hard and got promoted fast. Mom slogged along at her job. Soon, I saw her less and less, as I worked shorter hours and fewer days.
One day, I had a fit of curiosity. I took a sample of my blood and analyzed my DNA. I found out loads about myself. I found out that I carried genes for blonde hair and brown eyes. But I also found an unusual set of genes, something I had never seen before. A quick database search pointed to Imaginary Friends, a species of magical non-Sim creatures that not many have ever encountered. I was half Imaginary Friend. Either my mother was some magical humanoid puppet, or she screwed a doll.