Grayscale

Iris

     Some people amble along the streets, only to have their vision burst to life with a million different colors. Some people wake up one morning with someone else's initials tattooed onto their wrist in black ink. Some people get nothing. Those people who get nothing search their entire life, purposely catching the eye of many people on the streets, in the store, at the mall. Those people who get nothing wake up each morning with a feeling of hope forming the pit of their stomach, only to be pushed away when they look at their wrist to find no tattoo.

     Jessica Anderson lost hope a long time ago. Who needed a soulmate, right? Why wake up each morning, clinging to hope when you know there is none? Why waste time looking into the eyes of those who barely stand a chance of being the one? Her friends were all she needed, even though they were full of optimism for the most part, always telling her to "Stay hopeful, Jessica, you never know when life will leave you a nice little gift."

      Of course they'd be hopeful, though. They've already found their soulmates. Macy had screamed on the top of her lungs for Jessica to "Stop the damned car!" the moment her eyes caught Drew Wood's gaze. Sarah had cried, waking everyone up like a kid on Christmas to show off the black letters engraved in her skin. (It wasn't hard for Sarah to find 'IJ', seeing as the moment you were caught with letters on your wrist, the media grabbed hold of you; Isaac James was no exception.)

     Her favorite was when she caught the faintest flicker of color. It wasn't full on, nor was it bright and vibrant like her friends had said, but she fell into the pool nonetheless. It wasn't normal at all. She still had the slightly-off grayscale, (Grey-reds, Grey-greens, etc.) not to mention the initials on her right wrist. (Usually, it was on the left wrist.). When it happened, every ounce of hope she had lost returned with a small (Or, in other words, considerably large) dose of happiness.

     When she'd looked it up, her happiness level had dropped about 70%. She tried to find out why it was that all the telltale signs of meeting one's 'soulmate' had been flipped, she did. To say she was disappointed would be an understatement. Apparently, "reverse symptoms" meant whoever it was that was giving you said "symptoms" was just a "long lost relative" or some shit like that.

     She still hasn't met the "CA" whose initials remain engraved in her wrist. She didn't let it be seen. She covered it with a thick bracelet and told only her closest friends (Meaning Macy, Sarah, and their respective "soulmates".) If she said she didn't still feel the slightest twinge of anticipation every time she took a step outside, she'd be one hell of a liar.

     She's also afraid. Knowing that someone out there could be her brother (Brother?). Whoever "CA" was, she was afraid to meet him. She'd been alone, for the most part, since she was ten. The image of gunshots being fired engraved into her head, just as the initials of someone was engraved into her wrist. The sound of panicked screams sounded in her head, sometimes, more often than not. The memory was fresh, though it happened years ago.

     Within her mother's warm arms, she had felt at home. Her mother's soft singing that drifted across the wooden house she used to call home had warmed her at night, lulling her into a calm, dream-filled sleep. Nostalgia is a burden.

     Her father's rough voice had been oddly calming, though it scared the living hell out of any outsiders. The gun he carried around, tucked into his pants, shirt tucked in and covering the black object had always left her with a strange feeling of safety. Nostalgia is no friend.

     Every foster home from that point had left her with a strange feeling to run. None of them felt safe. She had felt... watched. The only place she felt remotely welcomed while in a foster home was the one that she met Lexi Reed in. They'd bumped into each other (quite literally) at the Robinson's home. She still remembers apologizing a million times until Lexi had snapped at her (after telling her "I'm fine, dammit!" fifty times.) and told her to stop apologizing for shit that wasn't her fault.

     Jessica had stayed at that foster home for a few years, coming in at fourteen and leaving when both her and Lexi were seventeen. She could still feel the tears rolling down her cheeks as she held her best friend close while mumbling "I'm gonna miss you!" over and over. She hadn't seen Lexi since they left, the last thing she remembers about her old friend being the fact that on their last day together, Lexi had met her "soulmate". She had came running up to Jessica telling her all about this "Sam Baker" that had (literally) lit her world up with colors.

     The only "family" she had now, was her friends, their soulmates, and whoever "CA" is. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't happy with what she had. She used to think she'd never have anyone to consider family, especially when she was passed from one house to another like a toy.

      A soft sigh escaped her from between her lips as she slammed the door shut behind her, letting out a loud call to alert the others of her presence. Her curled, blonde hair flew back against the breeze that came from the force at which she closed the door. Every Sunday since they graduated they've met up at her place to watch random movies and eat popcorn until their hearts were content. She was never sure if the tradition started on accident or if it started because her friends purposely kept coming over because she was lonely (Probably the latter!). Either way, she was glad she had something to look forward to on the weekends. Her now bare feet lead her to the couch as she stifled a yawn. She was tired, unused to working for a minute on the weekend. One Million Flowers was open all the time, just about, and she definitely didn't work the weekends. Sleep was prefered over work.

      Sadly, however, she'd been called in by her boss, asking her to take over for one of her co-workers until they got back. It was just her luck that someone had dropped by, looking for "The perfect flowers!". The entire hour with said person was spent with her going on and on about how she just loves blue flowers until Jessica had given her the "what the fuck" look (A glare which obviously told the tale that was her love life- or lack of one). The woman she'd been talking to had the mind to look sheepish when she'd caught the look and noticed the lack of a tattoo on her wrist. The woman was quick to follow up her rambling with a repeated apologies.

      Thankfully, however, the flower shop had been arranged by color for those who hadn't been fortunate enough to meet their soulmate (Yet!). She had easily lead the woman to the blue flowers, showing her the blue irises. Without having to be asked, she explained, her brown eyes watching the woman, "They're blue irises. They symbolize faith and hope."

      When they finally finished, the woman had enough flowers to keep her heart content, which lead Jessica to where she was now, on her back on the brown, plush couch as her friends watched The Silver Lining Playbook for the millionth time. It was anything but peaceful, but despite that, by the time the chorus of awws her friends always let go of at the end of the movie sounded, she was out, nestled into the warmth of the couch, finally able to enjoy a long nap without disturbances.

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A/N: I plan on actually updating this one. I feel more confident about my writings since the last story I wrote/updated. I actually got the ideas for these from two different fanfictions I read. (In case you're wondering, they were indeed Captain Swan/Lieutenant Duckling fics. Anyways, it's basically mixing the ideas of "Colormates" which is where you see in black and white until you meet/lock eyes/touch your soulmate and where if you're close/in the same area as your soulmate, you wake up with a mysterious tattoo on you wrist. In the fanfic I read, it wasn't after you woke up, but I like a few twists. Anyways, until the next update!