Blockage (hiatus)

Prologue

Soulmates.

Not a new concept by a long shot. Even though the concept wasn't recorded in any historical artifacts, it was just assumed to always have been there. No one was exactly aware when soulmates began popping up all over the world. It could have been eons ago or only a few hundred years. No one knew.

The principal was even added into most religious texts, yet the exact time of the alteration isn't recorded. Most people assumed it happened during the literary renaissance, but it might have been earlier or later then that. There were theories floating around that it happened recently and the World's Government staged all the past evidence to in force social control.

I considered that idea absurd, but I guess I could see the founding principles beneath it. No one liked having their freewill taken away. Be it in the name of love or not, it wasn't a pleasant experience knowing you didn't have a choice. Although, that's about as far as I could go into believing the conspiracy though. To be frank, there was just no way a group of humans could pull this off.

If it wasn't the world's normal, hearing other people's thoughts would be considered blasphemy.

Some-days I still think it's unbelievable. Hearing another person talking in your own mind; how can that be possible? It was a question without an answer. No one really knew the cause and only a few brave scientists questioned it.

When you began puberty, it showed itself. That voice in the back of your head. Well, not really the back of your head. The sensation was much more natural then that. It was just a voice that floated through your own and you knew it belonged. Whenever you heard your soulmate, you didn't question it. It just felt normal. Which, in a way, it was normal. We think.

Despite the mysterious origins of humanities telepathy, a few good things came out of it.

Soulmates didn't have a societal barrier to separate them. The universe, God, or whatever, didn't care about personal preferences. It didn't care about race. It didn't care about gender. It didn't care about body size. It only cared about who you were meant to be with, whether you wanted them or not. Unfortunately, even if the universe didn't care, doesn't mean humans will think the same.

Sometimes, cases of multiple soulmates popped up. Those always sent the world's people in a frenzy. Most people didn't care, but there were a few cases of religious fanatics or morally bold people that choose to express their displeasure. I didn't understand why really. Despite the words of hatred directed toward multiple soulmates, the phenomena popped up frequently.

That was a topic I was quite familiar with. Considering I had nine. Or... I once had nine.

My name is Sang Sorenson and right now I'm taking my daily vitamins. The three yellow pills that cut off all mental conversation between soulmates. The three pills I've been taking for four years.

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My hand shakes as I bring the small paper cup up to my mouth. Across the table, my mother watches me with the eyes of a hawk. They flicker from my eyes down to the cup and her mouth purses at my hesitance. She's about to yell at me, I know it. With that realization, I throw the pills into my mouth and dry swallow them one by one. When the deeds done, my mother doesn't offer any support. She says nothing as she stands in her worn robe and makes her way back upstairs.

For a moment, I can do nothing more than stare ahead. The beige walls and white cabinets of my kitchen blend into swirling mess. That's what lets me know the medicine is kicking in. In another thirty minutes the headache will start and by the end of the day it will become a pounding migraine. I'll throw up before bed and then the cycle will start over again tomorrow.

It wasn't always like that. The first three years, the side effects were close to zero and I was only plagued by the occasional headache. But on my fourth year the symptoms changed into what they were now. It worried me. I've heard horror stories about the drugs, in fact, I've heard a lot of them. Those three little pills weren't exactly legal.

The pills were technically called Xanolan, but most people referred to them as blockers. They weren't meant to be used for years, they weren't even meant to be used at all. They had started off as a treatment for people who couldn't handle the constant confusion or having another voice in your head. Except that wasn't the audience that picked them up. Instead, the little pills were used when one soulmate wanted to hide something from another. Adultery, lying, theft, or something worse.

It wasn't a big issue until the side effects were discovered. Brain aneurysms, strokes, and heart failure were just the serious ones. Fatigue, nausea, headaches, and spontaneous nose bleeds were the common ones. There was even a rumor that some people lost their soulmate connections after taking the pill. That was the one I feared the most.

Pushing myself off the chair, I leaned against the dirty kitchen table a bit to fight off the vertigo. When the world stops swimming, I walk toward the overflowing trashcan and toss the little cup in the mess before removing the bag. The walk to the garage makes my head pound and when I'm done I make my way back to the kitchen and to begin my daily chores.

As I pull out the container of Clorox wipes, my eyes water involuntarily. It always happens after I take the pills, but like always, I push the self-pity down and begin to scrub. It was my own fault I ended up in this situation. If I had kept my mouth shut, it would have never happened.