Stems: Short Stories

No Single Summer Contest: Soulmate of Roses

SOULMATE OF ROSES

By

Angie

7/12/2021

Soulmates. You share your best and worst with them. But what happens when that love is...faulty?

Seeping down her arm, it was unknown to who done this to her and her husband. The middle of a rose bud stuck in her arm, the petals melting down on the grass. "That's what they get for not letting us be together, Holly." The wind of his breath evaporated her tears—his plastic gloves burning in the fire—the gun on the ground next to him. "Shhh...it'll be over, Holly..."

Holly Ash clicked the enter button on her computer. With the simple press of a button on her worn-down MacBook, her husband would reveal himself with an email. All she had to do was fill out a preference questionnaire for the desired partner. The man received through the kittycatlover19@gmail email she made on her dad's computer at 12, would resemble her future lover. And most importantly, they would thrive together. Their nights would be filled with soft goodnight kisses and back massages.

But when she typed her email in, missing ten million keys due to the electricity in her hands, she swore to herself that this anxiety better be worth it. High pitched ringing attacked her ear from family's tinnitus problem.

Holly pushed the mouse into her black mousepad, clicking on the email. Shutting her eyes tight, she counted to three to look at the results.

The words on the screen whispered 'Aha! This is what you get!' down her ear. But she was a loyal citizen! She paid taxes, volunteered for the community. And she never violated the law. Never. Ever.

Dear Holly Ash,

Your request for a partner has been DENIED. We wish you the best of luck in the rest of your life. Execution Date: 7/25

They must have had the wrong Holly Ash.

Screams, cries, and 'Oh my god, I'm so happy for you!' erupted outside of her bedroom window. She could not be the only person who got denied. There had to be a mistake. Holly drafted a letter of concern to 'lifetimepartner@gmail'.

As she roamed the streets outside, the local Starbucks waited a street away. Crowds of 'perfect partners' filled corners. Holly's posture slumped, her hands finding a new home in the small pockets of her jeans. A caterpillar slugged beside her, flowers budding into roses, and Granny Smith apples growing on trees. The beautiful scenery of summer was a violation to Holly's demeanor.

Her white air forces crushed the caterpillar in half. The wet and silk rose petals crumpled together at the bottom of her shoe, sticking to the caterpillar remains. The granny smith apple on the tree split in half along the tree bark from her throw.

In the back of her mind, she knew the consequences of not being selected a partner. Death. Because everyone knew what that denial email meant—you weren't capable of love.

"Hi! Welcome to Starbucks, what would you like?" a man said. Holly bet he lived on a magical cloud with his own partner. "...Would you like something or...?"