In a world where each and every person has their own unique way of discovering their soulmate, I would say I was stuck with one of the worst tells. Some of the luckiest got to hear their soulmates thoughts in their heads, some able to communicate through dreams, and others with their first words tattooed on their wrist. But I didn't get any of those. I didn't get the ability to share drawings through our skin and I didn't get a the tell of a clock counting down towards our moment of meeting.
Instead, I have the tell of sharing my soulmates pain.
And let me tell you, he has no shortage of pain to share.
At the age of 16 my tell first appeared, and it would seem my soulmate were the average person. Sure, he got scrapes and bruises more than the average person but nothing crazy.
That all changed a few years ago. I honestly could not tell you how this man is still alive. I don't know what he's doing but during the night I will be woken to severe pain. Deep cuts and bruises. Sometimes even a broken rib or two.
It used to worry me, but now I'm only angry. The most intense pain he might get from me are period cramps and yet almost nightly I experience the most extreme pains I've ever had to experience in my life.
Even now as I walked through the streets of Hells Kitchen, I could feel the constant throb of pain in my shoulder, a deep cut that he had stitched up hours ago.
My pace quickened as I passed a group of men who were smoking cigarettes in an ally, pinching my wrist with anxiety.
One of the men whistled loudly, "Hey, pretty lady! Why don't you come hang with us?"
They all laughed as I pointedly ignored them and brought my brisk walk up to a jog.
When I felt I was at a safe distance I allowed myself to walk again, a slight burn filling my lungs as I took deep breaths. As I reached my destination I pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of my pocket, confirming I was at the right location.
"Nelson and Murdock," I whispered, staring at the sign by the door.
I took a shaky breath before entering the building. It wasn't in the greatest condition but it seemed to serve them well. As I walked into their office I saw multiple people in chairs, waiting their turn to speak with the lawyers.
"Hi, how can I help you?" The girl at the front desk asked with a sweet smile. I quickly glanced her over, stopping briefly at the tattoo on the inside of her wrist.
"Umm I called the other day about getting help for my brother," I stuttered out, opening my bag and handing her a file with shaky hands. "You said you might be able to help."
She quickly glanced over the file, eyes widening with recognition.
"Yes! I remember speaking to you. If you'll have a seat we'll be with you as soon as we can." She handed the file back to me, gesturing to an empty chair. "My name is Karen, let me know if you need anything."
I sat down beside a heavily tattooed man. He gave me a small smile in greeting before turning his attention to his phone.
My focus fell to my shoes as I crossed my leg over the other. I anxiously pinched my wrist.
I sat there for almost an hour as the waiting area was slowly emptying out. Finally as the tattooed man left the office area, Karen called to me.
"They're ready for you now." She smiled. "I'm so sorry about that wait."
"Its no problem." I smiled back at her. I followed her into an office where two men sat at a table. One wearing dark glasses and the other with dirty blonde hair. They both stood to introduce themselves, reaching their hands out for me to shake.
