We live in a universe where every single person on planet earth has a predestined soulmate. These soulmates are identified by a mark on your body. A dark imprint on your skin of the first place they will touch. A mark that you're born with. When your soulmate finally comes into contact with you the mark will burst into an array of colors. Signaling the correct touch.
The color of your mark can range from gray, brown, black, or in rare cases red.
The most common place for a mark is of course, the palm of your hand. The touch of a handshake. Maybe a high five.
The next most common place is the arm. The touch of accidentally brushing against a person. You never realize how many people you brush past.
Then of course there are mismatched marks. One person have it on the palm of their hand while the other has it on the shoulder, occurring from the pat of your shoulder.
I am unfortunate enough to have my mark in a "unique" spot. This is something most people would long for, but I don't think they would care to have mine. It garners a lot of unwanted attention.
You see, my mark is inky black in color and is the clear shape of a handprint across my left cheekbone. Everyone I come across looks at me, and they just know I'm going to be slapped across the face one day. Its all a person can look at as I talk to them. I've tried to cover it with makeup, but its just too dark. I would have to make myself look like a clown for that mark to no longer be visible. So I must live a life of being stared at in pity and wondering what kind of person would slap someone they barely knew?
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I walked into my building, soaked to the bone. The weather hadn't predicted rain so I was unprepared for the downpour that occurred on my walk home from work.
My apartment building was nothing fancy, but it was home.
I stepped into the rickety elevator and pressed for my floor, but just as the door began to close I heard someone shout.
"Hold the elevator please!" I quickly stuck my foot into the door causing the doors to bounce back open. I looked up to see my next door neighbor shoot me a smile as he rushed next to me, closing his umbrella.
"Neighbor." I muttered in acknowledgment before gazing to the screen of my phone.
I was minding my own business, yet I could still feel his gaze lingering on the side of my face. I've dealt with it my whole life, but I never got over the uncomfortable feeling that the staring brought.
Suddenly the lights flickered and the elevator jolted to a halt.
"Well, that can't be good." The man muttered as he began to aggressively press the button for our floor.
"Its obviously stuck! Hit the emergency button." I spit out anxiously. I personally don't want to be stuck in a confined space with a man I barely know.
He did as I said and a loud ringing occurred after hitting the button.
"Now, we wait." He sighed when the ringing came to a halt.
"I'm going to call the front desk." I informed, pulling the number up on my phone and backing to the corner of the elevator with the best signal.
After informing the front desk they told us it could be up to an hour before anyone could come to help us. Great. Just great.
The small space settled into silence after that. Me on my phone and him periodically glancing up to stare at me.
