Disclaimer: It's all owned by Mr. Joshua Schwartz, formally of Pittsburg, PA. And Fox, too.
I borrowed some ideas/things from SarPinky, such as S/S's talking about what number of children they had, etc. That is her idea, not mine.
Author's Note: I actually gave this as a challenge to SarPinky, who was not up to it. She told me to take the challenge, and so I did. Quite frankly, I'm nervous about this story. I don't know any French, and don't know anything really about France during WWII. I am doing research. My mom's a Holocaust freak so she may know some things, too. Correct me if I'm wrong. Also, Seth/Summer/Marissa/Ryan were all born in 1924, making them 18 in 1942.
Also...I had to change some names for Sanford (Sandy), Kirsten, James (Jimmy), Summer, Ryan, and Marissa are very modernized names.
Here are their names now as well as their names in the story:
Sanford / Sauville
Kirsten / Kamille
James / Jacques
Summer / Sabine
Ryan / Rémy
Marissa / Marysa
The title of this story, "Have You Tasted Hate?" comes from a poem called Reversibility by the French poet, Charles Baudelaire.
::PREFACE::
1956, Orange County, California
She closed her eyes.
Today was her thirty-second birthday. She shouldn't have been spending it alone on the sands of the Pacific Ocean. She should've had friends and family around her. But most of all, she should've had her husband.
Truthfully, he had never been her husband. He could've, and would've, but he never had the chance to.
It wasn't fair.
She should've been here in America...in California with her husband. And maybe a child or two.
She dug her nails into her palms as tears fell down her face.
They had wanted three children. He had wanted two boys and a girl; she wanted two girls and a boy. He told her he would've named the girl Cecile after her mother. When he said that, she had thrown a pillow at him, saying she didn't wanted to be reminded of the woman that left her and her father when she was thirteen for a man half her father's age.
She would've given anything to have him and any child of theirs.
Damnit, she wished she had gotten him out. He should have listened to her father. Her father, a doctor, had told him that he could change his name (full name - not just his surname) and marry her. He had said no, he had said the name he was given was his name. It wasn't just a name to him, it was who he was.
It was funny really.
She, who was a Christian French girl, had changed her name when she had come to America. She had wanted to assimilate, to become more American and to forget her past. He, a Jewish French boy, hadn't given it a thought to changing his name. He didn't want to forget who his ancestors were, to forget who he was; no, he'd rather be proud of who he was.
She sniffled.
She was so stupid. She should've kept her name in honor of him, to show him she was as strong as he always said she was. She didn't have to be so American... Summer Roberts. She really should have been Sabine Roberts. And no one else.
She opened her eyes to find a tall, dark blonde girl standing in front of the ocean. The girl looked exactly like Marysa, her best friend whom she...
Too many memories. They had to be forgotten.
She didn't wanted to remember what happened to Marysa, her best friend since childhood, or Seth, her would-be husband, and his family. She wished she could forget what happened, but she couldn't.
The thing was...she could never forget.