Halfway to Heaven-- Boy X Boy

We Are the Broken

Nothing is worse than being halfway to heaven. I had been stuck in production for thousands of years. Everyone there had something wrong with them so we were never allowed to go to Earth. We sat up in command, designing the next generation. I could only smile, knowing the souls I made will go to heaven, where I will never meet them. On good days, I made people who are beautiful, heal quickly and are driven to improve themselves. On bad days I made ugly imbeciles who will never amount to anything. I wasn't in charge of where they were born or who raised them, but that was okay by me.

I sat in my chair and looked out over the Earth. My monitor flashed before me, another one of my souls was being uploaded for publishing. I kicked away from my desk, the wheels of my chair clicking beneath me. Looking out over the line of people typing away beside me, I smirked. When Jerry was printed, the color ink ran out, so he doesn't have all the personality he was supposed to. Sadie was only half printed so she faded out of existence from time to time. Others had smaller glitches, but they were still born and allowed to walk the Earth. Sure sometimes they were blind or had a mental disorder, but at least they weren't stuck here.

I was fully printed. There was no error with my coloring. I wasn't a copy, clone or glitch, and some days I wondered why I wasn't allowed through those pearly gates. That fateful day was one of those days.

I stood up and walked over to the production line. Other rejects were assembling new souls. They chose which material to make the wisps out of. I wished they had just made me out of the wrong thing. If I was made of too much fluff or not enough strength I would have still been on earth. I might have been sickly but I would have been human. Down the production line, the soul string was pressed into the right size. I could have been made too small or too big and have come out alright. Many humans with big personalities do really well. The mixer added in those three things that made a person unique, the traits were contained in little stones. The glowing vat of creativity shined purple light on me as I passed by. I could have only had two stones added to the pit of my core, but what I had was worse. Standing by the printer, I watched as each soul was loaded into it and given color and life. If only my color had been printed weird or wrong. My chakra could have been a muddy mess of brown or vomit green and maybe I could have still been born.

I wish something had gone wrong with my printing. Maybe then I would have been able to beg my way onto Earth. The condition I had was something much worse, something that I was told was unfixable. There had been a jam in the printer after my soul was printed. That jam had shredded my soul mate.

No human is allowed to descend to Earth without theirs. The gods reserve the right to have your ultimate happiness on hand just in case of an emergency. A day doesn't pass where I didn't wonder what she was like. I think about where we would have been born and what life we would have led. How we would have met and love and lived. But being born without a soul mate meant you might suffer for half your life and then die, or worse, you could steal someone else's one true love and cause a commotion.

I must have been staring off into space because my boss came up behind me. Well, I'd hardly call him my boss because he never instructed me to do anything, he just hung around to make sure everyone was content.

"Hey Trace, you're not looking too good." He plopped a hand on my shoulder.

I smirked, "I'm not feeling too good either."

He looked at me with a long, solid gaze, "You have been working in soul design for quite a while now. Maybe it's time you gave something else a try?"

"No thanks." I sighed, "I can't trust myself with any of the other tasks."

"Hey, you could try fluffing... Or soul stone manufacturing, I hear both a pretty rewarding."

"I don't want to handle the souls." I looked out over the dim office of people working behind colorful screens.

There was a big glass panel that circled all the way around the main wall. You could look out at Earth and see a little twinkle whenever someone was born.

"Well in that case..." He looked away at the machinery before us, "What about soul mate matching?"

"What?" I turned to face him fully.

"You know, design the soul mates for the people others are creating back at your station." He had the most satisfied smile on his lips.

I took a step in front of him, "You mean people design soul mates? That means we can print mine up again."

"Wait." His mouth was slung open, "No, no we can't print yours up again."

My face froze and the smile fell away, "Why not?"

He looked at me intently for a few moments and then looked away, "Come with me."

Our shoes padded across the gray tile. We walked out of the main room, cautiously, as if we might be followed. I had never bothered to explore the hallway labyrinth we were in now. All I knew about this dimly lit maze was that there were doors that led to rooms you didn't want to see inside. My boss didn't look at me as we walked all the way down to the end of the hall. A light flickered above us as we reached the final two doors. One on the right and one at the end of the hall.

"Forgive me, but I have lied to you." He started, as his angel wings unfolded from the back of his coat, "Your soulmate wasn't destroyed, he was made wrong."

I looked at the door in front of me, one word was written on a plaque that had been glued on to the white wood. The word was "Daniel" with a capital D as if it were a name.

"Made wrong?" I asked him while looking at the brass handle.

He smiled, "You're familiar with designing people. Each soul gets three traits attached to it, some good and some bad. Well, the same person who created you two was a troublemaker. If it weren't for him my position as a peacekeeper would have never been made. He was upset about not being allowed down to Earth so he hijacked two souls and placed different traits into them. You were given only good traits, seven good traits." He smiled at me, "your partner was given only bad traits, nine bad traits."

I looked at the door again, the lock on in the center of the doorknob had been broken.