Glitches in My Code

Marked

(I'm sorry about any switches between tenses here... I know there are probably still some in here, but I don't really know where... It's supposed to be mostly present tense.)

I walk down the unkempt streets of my small town, hopping over the numerous items that litter the uneven pavement on my way to the small park that I know will be full. After all, it's the only piece of nature, the only minuscule bit of wilderness that had survived the cramped spaces of our community. I glance down at the inky handprint sprawled across my wrist, smiling ever so slightly. I know that I am getting kind of old to still have my mark the way it was, but I don't mind. I was born with it this way, and I would be lucky no matter when in my life it changed from midnight black to the swirls of color I knew it would eventually gain. What will happen then? Most people seem to get married, or at the very least start dating, as soon as they shift... I trace the mark with my fingertip, wondering what would happen to make me shift. 

I reach the park and sit down on the emptiest bench I can find, watching the kids running around the park, some with obvious marks, some without. One teenage girl is sitting alone, leaning against a tree, until her friend runs up to her. Her friend, a boy who seems about the same age as her, apparently offers to braid her hair, because the girl turned to sit with her back to the boy. 

Once his hands touched her hair, however, the once coal-black hair seems to change ever so slightly. When he actually begins braiding, her hair changes from the sooty black to a plethora of colors, ranging from deep red to a pale green to a vibrant purple. The boy gasps, dropping the hair, only to stare, transfixed, at his palms, which ripple with colors much like the ones in the girl's hair. The girl turns around, confused at why he dropped her hair, only to see her own hair. Mouth gaping, she looks up at the boy, startled into silence. When the colors stop moving, they fade to a tan for the boy and a fiery red for the girl.

"I always wondered why I didn't have a marking... I guess now I know why..." I hear her say, only to be pulled into a hug by the boy, followed soon by a kiss. After this, he extends his arms, as though to get a better look at her.

"I always hoped it would be this way..." He murmurs, pulling her back into his arms, both of them grinning like the Cheshire cat. 

I glance around at the other people in the park, seeing kids frozen in play, adults transfixed. I seem to be the only one, apart from the two teens, not frozen in time. Then a clap echoes from a man a short distance away from the pair, followed by a whoop. This crack in the silence seems to break the dam holding the words inside of the people nearby, and the park is soon filled with the applause of many, and after a minute or two everything slowly returns to normal, children playing, adults talking. I watch as the pair stands up, hand in hand, and leaves the park, heads together, deep in conversation. 

I look at the mark on my wrist, dark as ever, then stand up, an odd mixture of joy and sorrow bubbling in my chest. As I walk back in the direction of my house, I only see a flash of color beside me before I feel a hand wrap around my wrist and hear a thud. I turn to see someone sprawled on the ground, gripping my arm. As I move to help them up, I reach out with my marked arm instinctively, only to see swirls of color on my wrist, exactly where their hand had touched it. Their hand swirls with the same colors, different from those of the people in the park. Their eyes, one smoky grey, the other pale blue, both familiar and warm, flit from my still-extended forearm to their own hand and they slowly rise upwards from the ground, eyes shining with barely suppressed tears.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" 

I smile, feeling silent tears slide down my face.

In front of me stands my childhood best friend.

In front of me stands my soulmate.