Connected by Colors & Shapes

Chapter 1

Around the 1950's , people started to develop strange tattoos on their bodies. At first, only a few hundred people had them, but in less than a month everyone had one. These tattoos all varied in shape, color, size and even the location on your body(except private parts of course). Upon further investigation, the tattoos held a mystic sort of power that connected you to someone. In short, they were soulmate tattoos. This, of course, rose many controversies. You could be paired with someone of the same gender, a different religion, from another country or all of the above. Thankfully, I live in a time where we're getting better in looking past such differences. Unfortunately, my soulmate journey wasn't exactly . . . conventional. I'd later come to learn that neither was my soulmate.

" Ally, are you almost done?!" my mom called from down the hall.

" Yeah, but I need help with tying the back of my swimsuit!" We were getting ready for a family party at the beach. It was one of  those rare sunny days in Gotham, and I figured why not try on my cute, new swimsuit. I usually don't show a lot of skin, but I'd be around family so what the heck.

My mom walked into my room and gasped. " Sweetie what happened to your back?"

"What do you mean?"

" There's a red scratch. did you fall or bump into something?"

"Uh . . . no and I don't feel anything."

She examined my back and gasped again.

" What! Is it bad?!" I asked trying to look over my shoulder and follow her gaze. I did see something red, but it didn't seem to be bleeding. If it wasn't a scratch then . . .

" No sweetie," my mom said with clear happiness in her voice. " Your finally getting your soulmate mark."

You normally get your tattoo the same time that your parents did. My mom got hers when she was twelve, the youngest age yours could start developing,  while I came in late at fourteen. I'd been so anxious that I would check in the mirror about everyday. I guess that I should've checked my back more. We made the announcement at the party, and my family was elated for me. However, my mark still needed a week to fully develop, and I wouldn't be lying when said that it wasn't what I was expecting.

What's strange, to me at least, about soulmate marks is that they match your partner's personality, not yours. Parents, doctors and teachers are encouraged to give the youth booklets that explain the characteristics of your mark(or technically your partner's mark). There are even tests to see what your tattoo looks like. For example, I'm introverted and short(5'1), so my mark might be small. I'm also normally optimistic so it could also be a bright color with smooth edges. Overall, there was a good chance that my tattoo was cutsie and nonthreatening, the exact opposite of my partner's.

The mark I wore stretched from my left shoulder to my collarbone. It was a somewhat bright red and it was split into three parts with the one in the middle being the largest. It was as if I'd been scratched by a bear or some other predator. I admit that I was embarrassed by it because it didn't match me at all. It was too bold, too . . . intimidating. After a few months, though, I started to take pride in my mark and my soulmate. For them to have a tattoo like this, they'd have to be kind of cool, strong even. That and If we're most likely very different, I should at least meet them before assuming that we wouldn't be a good match. Besides, their mark didn't look too bad on my dark skin.

Speaking of meeting them, I wasn't expecting to see them anytime soon, but I did have an indication that they were close. When you're a few feet away from your partner, your mark will start to feel a certain way and will intensify the closer you get to them. After you first meet them, the feeling will only rarely happen again. For me, it was a warm feeling in the middle of the night, but when I ran to my window, no one was outside. Maybe they weren't ready yet. I didn't blame them, honestly. Then the incident happened . . .

I was awoken once again by my mark, but this time it was different. It burned terribly. I screamed until I passed out, only to wake up again in the hospital . . . markless. I wasn't the same after that. My therapist said that since I was only fifteen, I'd have a new tattoo and soulmate in no time. After all, everyone shares a connection with multiple people regardless of who their mark ties them to( this is what usually causes poly relationships). Even so, no one could have as strong as a bond with me. Even though I didn't meet him-I figured that they were a 'he' since this was around the time I discovered that I was hetero- I knew that he was special.

It took three years for me to get a new tattoo. Except the only difference was the color, scarlet that faded into black at the edges which were now more ragged. You can imagine how confused I was. This can't be the same person, right?  Soulmate tattoos were like snowflakes, and this snowflake was cutting it a little-no way too close in appearance to my previous one. I could've asked an expert about it, but I decided not to. Whatever was going on couldn't have been explained scientifically. And if something else was at play here, I wanted no part of it. I'd been through enough and needed to focus on other things such as my education. I even told my family and my closest friend, Ciarra, to not worry about it because I was okay with it. This was probably the biggest lie I ever told.

Even though I tried my best to ignore my new mark, I couldn't, especially with new and sudden outbursts. I could literally be having the best day ever and here comes a wave of saddeness, anxiety and anger all at once. I'm normally anxious, but this level of stress was far beyond what I was use to. That and I'd just gotten better after the incident, so these emotions couldn't have been mine. It was Ciarra, bless her soul, who researched and found out what was wrong with me or better yet my soulmate. Apparently, their emotions had been so intense that our bond passed them onto me as a crutch of sorts. I wasn't having this at all, so I continued Ciarra's research and found a solution. All I had to do was touch my tattoo and think of things that made me happy. After a minute or two the bad vibes would go away, and after five months of doing this whenever I felt an outburst coming on they went away entirely. This most likely meant that my partner was doing great entirely or well enough to handle it on their own. Considering what they made me feel, I'd say the second option. I continued to do the healing process whenever I remembered just in case. I'm sure they needed it.

If all that wasn't enough, I ended up moving back to Gotham for a job. The whole reason my mom and I moved was because of you-know-what, but that was almost eight years into the past now. This job was way to good to pass up and what were the odds that my new soulmate lived here,too( 0.111111119 according to Ciarra who ended up moving to Gotham as well). Everything would be fine . . .

Yep! Everything would not be fine. I must have been gone too long because I forgot where all the dangerous areas were. On a late night stroll back home from getting a midnight snack, I stumbled into a couple of lowlife thugs and was backed into an alleyway. Of course, I was scared, but I had finally reached the point in my life that I dreamed of as a teen: graduated from college in a decent apartment working my dream job while also having time to spend with my friends and soulmate . .  . Okay the last part wasn't happening, but the rest of my dream was and I wasn't about to let these roach-smelling mobster wannabes ruin it for me. Yeah, I wasn't the strongest or the fastest, but I had pepper spray, a taser, sharp nails and a piece of old wood that I found in the alley. These guys were gonna pay for messing with me and making me drop my doughnuts.

Too bad my revenge was cut short by a guy in a red helmet . . .