I DON'T CARE | Mimo + Dahmo

Lie

We spent our lives learning about colours. This was red. That was green. Those are blue. This thing is yellow. The only problem is that we couldn't see them.

From a very young age we were told the colours would appear when we met the person, we were meant to spend the rest of our lives with. Our soulmate. A very broad concept that even now I have little understanding of.

When they touched, even just a slight brush of the hand, soulmates would suddenly be able to see these colours. We were told by those who found the one for them that these colours were beautiful. That there was nothing like them, and once you saw the colours, you knew that person was meant to be with you.

There were so many unanswered questions. How does something like this even happen? Does everyone have a soulmate? What if you have two soulmates? What if your soulmate is across the globe; on the other side of the world? Would you even meet them? And if you did, what if they couldn't speak your language? My questions were always dismissed as pointless thinking, but every single one of these questions plagues my mind.

This idea of soulmates was sacred to most. Many relationships between people were strictly platonic unless colours were involved. They remained in the confines of the black and white world as we called it.

The friends I grew up with at school all remained single. Faithful to someone that had never even met. But I couldn't do that. How was I supposed to know who the one for me was by sitting around and refusing any opportunity that came my way?

Yeah. I slept around with those who were willing. Guys and girls, none of which have given me any notion of a colour. My friends called me stupid and shallow. I called myself smart. I was searching, while they remained lonely and bored.

I'd let this go on for too long. I was starting to see why people wanted to save themselves for their soulmate. Every night I was with someone, I would feel this empty tugging sensation in my stomach. Something was always missing. Something was never right. I had wasted years and years dating on and off. Experimenting. Taking risks.

It was only when I was 25 that something, someone, disrupted this cycle of loneliness.

I was on my way home from the dance studio after teaching a class. I had to stay back later than usual to give one of the kid's extra help. He was starting to get picked on by the others in his dance troupe as he was lagging behind in the choreography. I couldn't just stand by and let him get dragged behind like that. I knew what it was like to be bullied and ridiculed and rejected.

I pulled up my hood to block out the night air as I approached a set of lights before a pedestrian crossing. I knew that I was going to miss my usual bus back to my apartment, so I was taking my time. The next bus would only arrive in 20 minutes.

The lights flashed in huge letters 'STOP' with a standing image of a man next to it and the cars rushed by in a blur. I was starting to wonder if I should just sit in the Starbucks across the road and wait or if I should brave the cold for a few more minutes once I had reached the bus stop when there was a yell from behind me.

"YOU FUCKER! GIVE IT BACK!" Before I could even turn to see what was going on, something big bashed into my side causing me to fall harshly to the pavement. A dull ache ran through my arm as it hit the ground. I looked up to see a bicycle speeding across the road that still had the word 'stop' flashing big and bold. They weaved through the cars and disappeared around a corner into an alleyway.

"SHIT!" The same person who had yelled before swore and ran forward to the curb of the road in fury. Her hair was a mess and her coat was falling off her shoulders. "YOU ARE SO ANOYING!" She cried, her voice cracking and breaking in anger. I wanted to laugh at her from my place on the ground. What a weird thing to say. She then turned to face me.

My first thought before she spoke was that she was very beautiful.

"Are you ok?" She asked and held out her hands. My second thought was that she must be furious. I could see the highlights on her cheeks that suggested angry tears and her brows were creased in the middle in frustration. I nodded slowly before accepting her hand.

She pulled me to my feet.

"What was going on?" I asked as she let go slowly. I brushed off my hands on my jeans and checked my arm was ok as I waited for her to answer, but she didn't for a long while.

All of a sudden, she took my hand again. "Eh?" I exclaimed. I glanced at her only to see her look around her in wonder while clutching tightly to me. Her face was bright with a smile so wide that her eyes almost disappeared and little crinkles appeared beneath them.

"Do you see that?" She whispered as if any loud sounds may ruin the moment. The wonder and awe in her voice was tangible. My heart did a tumble turn before seeming to settle at an unnaturally slow rhythm. I felt light headed.

I looked around, and I knew then that she was seeing the colours... but I could not.

I pulled my face into a huge grin and nodded. "Yes." I said simply, and that's where my lie began.

A/N: Thanks to all the people who read Murderer. It was accepted so well and I didn't expect it. I hope this story is just as good. It will be multi chaptered, but only very short chapters and there won't be many, but I hope readers enjoy it regardless. :)

Please let me know what you think...

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