A Soulmate Story A Day

1 ~ Our Matching Designs

[Published: 01/10/15]

She wanted me to break it. To stamp on it. To smash its intricate design into a billion pieces.

But I couldn't.

My eyes fixated on the swirls and lines that made up the pattern that defined me. Defined my very being. She continued to yell at me, to ask me why I wasn't doing as she said. The chants had died down now, replaced by annoyed and cautious whispers.

They surrounded me. They were the rebels. I was a rebel. Wasn't I?

A seed of doubt implanted itself in my brain. If I truly was a rebel; why was I finding it so hard to smash that silver charm on that silver chain? I mean this is what we stood for. Rebelling against the government and their stupid ways of stopping overpopulation. We stood for freedom. For the right to be with who we wanted to be, to procreate with whoever we want, to not be confined to finding the person who's design harmonised with ours. Who's personality fit ours perfectly. They would fight for the cause till their last breath. I would as well.

Maybe not.

I gripped the locket in my fist. Closed. Safe. Secure.

It was my sixteenth birthday; 'the day of our destiny'. That's what the government liked to call it. The rebels preferred 'the day of our debilitation.' I just thought of it as the day that I choose.

Am I a follower?

Or am I a rebel?

The weight of this choice was driving down so heavily on me that tears filled the corners of my eyes and even with my fists closed, my hands shook. Their voices echoed around me.

'Something tells me you're a government kind of girl.'

'Never thought she looked like a rule breaker.'

'Hurry up!'

'Yeah!'

'Freaking time wasters.'

'Government patsy!

'You gonna run on home, back to mummy!'

'Guys, chill.'

'Yeah it can be hard.'

'For babies, yeah?'

'Don't be grim.'

'No, but seriously. She is literally crying.'

'Smash it or get out!'

My cheeks were burning red with embarrassment and not even the flow of tears running down my face could help the heat consuming my head and neck. Breathe. In. Out.

I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and sniffed pathetically. Willing my voice to not come out as cracked and childish as I knew it probably would I eventually spoke to the girl. She was three years my elder and the leader of this single meeting.

'I need to check something. I'll be back for the morning meeting tomorrow.' She continued to stare at me ferociously, a look that could only ever be interpreted as a look of sympathy in pitch darkness. 'Sorry.' I added awkwardly as I gracelessly attempted to leave by the back exit.

A firm grip round my upper arm stopped me in my tracks.

'Give me your wristband.' She demanded, stabbing her nails into my flesh. I failed to keep in a wince.

'B-but I'll come back, promise.' I pleaded. My wristband was as much a part of me as anything else. It was a sign that showed the world what I believed in. I'd worked so hard to get it. Not even everyone gathered in the empty warehouse had one.