Chapter One
Castiel
In the 18 years I've lived, I have noticed that children and teenagers alike seem to be obsessed with finding The One. Whether it be their Prince Charming or just a cute guy from the football team, everyone wants to find the person they truly belong with.
Once upon a time, long before I was born, the concept of finding your so-called 'soulmate' became all too real.
Once upon a time, the world changed.
This brings me here. Maths class, senior year, watching a bright red patch on the arm of the girl in front of me slowly darken and turn a deep purple.
On cue, she grabs her arm with an "Ow!"
Heads turn to see what the commotion is about
The teacher frowns, giving her an over-dramatic "Shh!" while putting a finger to her lips.
Slowly, with quiet mumbling and rustling of papers, everyone returns to their tests.
I watch, transfixed, as another bruise appears further up her arm, almost on her shoulder.
She buries her face in her hands, clearly in pain and trying not to make any noise.
Barely two seconds later, she lets out a shriek, nearly falling out of her chair as she cups her face with one hand.
Everyone starts talking at once, and the teacher yells at everyone to be quiet and go back to their tests as she helps the girl from her seat.
As she picks up her bag with a sniffle, I see blood escaping through the gaps between her fingers.
Her soulmate is getting beaten up, what a loser.
Nah, he's probably getting hurt on purpose. Maybe he found out she was his soulmate.
Dude, that's mean. He's probably just a clumsy idiot lol.
The muttered comments follow her out into the hall, and I try to block out the words.
A few minutes later, the teacher returns. She is fuming.
The remainder of the lesson is spent with miserable students sitting silently as she reprimands us for our "cruel, unwarranted behaviour".
The students I heard making snide comments earlier are singled out and instructed they have detention for a week, which is met with grumbling and moaning.
Good.
When we are released, I immediately head for the boys' bathroom.
The mirror is the first thing I walk towards after making sure I'm alone.
With a deep breath, I lift my shirt to see bruises and cuts littering my chest. A part of me was hoping they would have faded. Instead, if anything, there is more.
Hearing footsteps, I drop the shirt back down as another boy enters the bathroom.
He gives me a quizzical look as he heads over to the urinal, and I quickly leave.
Walking down the hall to my next class, my thoughts turn to the possibilities of who my soulmate could be.
Even though I tried to ignore it in the beginning, I'm getting progressively more concerned about all the injuries they are constantly getting.
It started with the occasional bruise or cut a few years ago, which I put down to just an accident. I even had a couple of concussions, which I decided must just be from a sporting injury.
It all changed the night I woke up with several long cuts across my stomach. Almost like… claws.
I'm past the point of trying to explain away the injuries. Now, I hide them.
Hide them, and pray that my soulmate, whoever they are, doesn't get themselves killed.