Fate (h.s.au)

I

When I was twelve, I noticed the world was changing. People didn't go out much anymore and there wasn't much to do outside of school. I had read so many books in the time spent outside of school; the words becoming my best friends.

It hadn't occurred to me in my young age that what everyone was doing was out of protection. Not just for their children, but for themselves. It was a global pandemic; one no one was prepared for.

I had been kept in my room as I heard my parents talk, trying to figure out what was happening. There wasn't anything for me to do.

And then I noticed something on my skin. There were small freckles forming along my skin; all over my body. I was scared, but I wasn't scared enough to show it to my parents. I just figured that my body was growing, and with growth, came more freckles. I had them on my nose and cheeks; it wasn't out of the ordinary.

As I grew older, I noticed that there were other things going on in the world. My parents started adapting different behaviors and I saw them growing further and further apart. Eventually my dad left. My mom didn't know what to do.

I don't think anyone in the world knew what to do.

When things started to progress, town meetings were held. The meetings were to assure everyone that there was no harm intended for anyone. Everyone would be safe where they were. My mom never let me go to them; I stayed home.

I was able to start hanging out with my friends when I was fourteen. We had regrouped as friends and everyone noticed that everyone was different. We all had something new. Freckles, dimples, scars, and one of my friends even had a tattoo. She claims it showed up on her body one day, out of nowhere. When we had asked if it hurt, she nodding and explained that her mom had to take her to the hospital.

Then we all shared our stories about things randomly appeared out of nowhere; as if someone snapped their fingers and we were marked.

I started asking my mom questions. Questions she didn't have the answers. It was upsetting to know that I wasn't able to know why things were happening, but I knew that I was going to have to live with it.

When I was sixteen was when my mom finally opened up.

"Alina, things are happening in the world that are unexplainable, but I need to tell you this," she had said, the two of us facing each other on my bed.

"Have you heard of fate?" she asked, and I had told her I knew from books I've read.

"Well, fate is real. And it is alarmingly becoming even more real," she rushed, almost as if she was nervous.

"The world we're in right now...it's showing us how each person is set with someone for life. They are in a bond. And the only way the bond is found is when the people meet," she explained, and I followed along. It wasn't a far-fetched for a reader like me.

"How do you know when you meet the person?" I wondered, wanting to know.

"That's where things are complicated," she stressed. "We get marked. I'm sure you've discovered new marks on your body."

My eyes diverted directly to my arms, taking note to each new mark.

"You will develop every mark your soulmate incurs. Anything that happens to their skin, will happen to yours," she told me. You will only feel the pain once it's there, but other than that, you won't feel it after."

The thought of enduring another's pain and wearing it as if it were your own scared me. It had been the selfishness in my sixteen-year-old self to not want to bear any sort of pain another person felt. I lacked empathy, in that sense.

As I pondered what I had been told, my mom told me it would be best to stay home and not to wander. I knew it was her way of being protective, but I didn't want to be sheltered the rest of my life.

She had allowed me to go out every once in a while, my friends easily finding happiness in being out. But I felt almost as if I were a nihilist. I didn't want to be bond to someone; I wanted to be free and live my life to find the perfect one.

Apparently the perfect one is already determined by fate.

My nihilistic attitudes grew more and more prominent each passing year. I watched as people fell into love with the one they were set up with, or completely disregard the fact that your soulmate was a thing and cling to other people who had yet to find theirs.

For me, it kept getting painful. Literally, painful. Tattoos covered my body by the time I reached twenty one, each mark more painful than the last. I had woken up numerous times, screaming in pain, and my mom had no idea what to do. There was no feeling comparable than what it felt like to have unwanted tattoos nearly burn onto my skin. Excruciating pain would be an understatement.

By the time I was twenty two, I had endured bruises, cuts, swollen knuckles, black eyes; all because of fate. Whoever my soulmate seemed to be was not one who strays away from trouble. Tattoos and bruises are a sure sign of someone who likes to fight.

That was the same year my mom kicked me out. She didn't like my attitude. My outlook on life was negative and she didn't want me around. I moved in with my friend, who too, was unhappy about our fate.

The world goes by, day by day, and I dread what might happen if the bond I have with my soulmate is found.