I know I am enough,
Possible to be loved,
It was not about me,
~By The Grace Of God, Katy Perry
The first time I felt my soulmate I was 7. I was in my second grade class showing off my favourtie red fire truck for show and tell, when I suddenly felt a burning on my hand. I brushed it off, it was probably my soulmate falling, but then I felt another on my knee, and another and another until I was on the ground screaming in agony. My teacher was very alarmed; this had never happened to any of my classmates before. The most they had ever felt is a small sting, maybe their soulmate got stung by a bee or fell off their bike while trying to learn how to ride (mostly the second one, a lot of people were learning how to ride these days. If she was falling off her bike, where was she falling off, a cliff? Maybe my soulmate was a rowdy boy, and maybe I'm just the girl in the relationship and that's why I'm in so much pain. S/he must have passed out, because 5 minutes later, because instead of the burning pain, only a small throbbing was left. So, I continued on with my presentation like nothing happened.
For three years, there was nothing but little bits of pain every once in awhile, but by time I was 7, I was used to the pain because my soulmate had gotten hurt so much. I was so worried about my soulmate, I ask my grandfather if we could do something, something to get help for her, since she has gotten hurt so many times, but unfortunately he said no because we had no idea who this person was. I accepted that, although it left me upset. How could nobody know who my soulmate was? There had to be a secret way to determine soulmates, there had to be. But, I was only seven, what did I know?
Two weeks after my 8th birthday, for the first time, I felt a feeling besides pain coming from my soulmate mark. I was playing Call Of Duty with my older sister when I felt it. Was it…. sadness? The feeling enveloped me, and suddenly I no longer felt like playing video games. I ran into my room and slammed the door, spending the rest of the night in my room thinking about what made my soulmate so damn sad.
I lost my soulmate when I was eleven. I was resting up for my fifth grade graduation when I felt a searing pain for 5 minutes, then just nothing. I crept to the bathroom, lifted up my pajama pants and looked at my soulmate Mark. What was once a vibrant, lively mark was now a white scar, looking as though it could fade away at anytime.
I ran quickly to my grandfather's room, roughly shaking him awake.
"Grandpa, my soulmate mark! It turned white." When he first woke up, an annoyed look was on his face, but now a sympathetic look covered his features. And that's when I found out what happens when your soulmate can no longer breathe on their own. Needless to say, instead of going to graduation, we stayed home and ate ice cream.
Middle school was a living hell. In the beginning, I didn't want to be near anybody, still sad over my soulmate. I eventually made a friend, but once I showed him my faded soulmate mark, he turned on me. Such a good friend, right?
The teacher turned a blind eye, her soulmate must've been gone too and she didn't want to be made fun of. My other classmates either face me pity glances or made jokes about my soulmate being 100 and dying. Not even the smart kids or the loners would let me sit with them. Not having friends really helped me, and I soon became the top of my class.
Seventh grade year, a boy and a girl came to the school and didn't have soulmate marks. I finally had friends. I pursued the thought that maybe my soulmate was a boy (that turned out to be incorrect; I indeed like girls, but at least he got something out of it). The girl showed signs of liking me, but she never acted on it, knowing I was still in grief of my soulmate dying.
I got my soulmate mark back in the middle of seventh grade. In the middle of English class, my mark burned on my leg, sparking back to life! I almost cried tears of not sadness but happiness but, instead of being happy for me, my friends shunned me, and I soon skyrocketed back to the top of my class. I decided not to tell anybody but my grandfather after that, I'd rather have no friends than fake friends. Me and my grandfather spent that whole week celebrating. I didn't even have to go to school! For the rest of middle school, I smiled when the kids made jokes or my old friends glared at me, knowing that I still have a love story.
I met my soulmate when I was fourteen. I was in a rush, quickly trying to get my stuff out my locker and on to my Geometry class. I swung it open, and I heard it smack somebody in the face. My locker suddenly slammed shut, and in front of it stood a girl with long, brown hair with a black beanie, a unzipped black jacket with a Supernatural shirt sticking out, black skinny jeans, and black and white converse with three letters that spelled out SPN. She was so angry, her face was red and shaking with her fists balled up. Honestly, she was terrifying
"You big jerk! Maybe you should watch where you swing your locker before it's my fist in your fac- ow!" My soulmate mark burns, and I can feel my soulmate's full name being written out in elegant cursive. Unlike her, I can stand the pain (being so used to it now).
She holds her wrist before continuing her angry rant, but all I could think is 'she's my soulmate, this nerd girl is my soulmate! She's so pretty and has fire and personality!'
"Uh, excuse me! Where's my apology?"
"Sorry, but I think you're my soulmate."