Color

two

"You know most kids get dropped off right?" I groan to my parents. They have insisted upon taking me to the college themselves, and showing me around. Something about satisfaction.

"We're not most parents." My father smirks. God, he's not as clever as he thinks. But he's so dorky I can't help but smile.

Things seem a bit brighter today. For a second, I dream of hues, but that's preposterous. I can't find my mate here. I sigh.

"How did you know you were close to your mate?" I ask my father. My eyebrows raise in anticipation. Will I finally find him?

"Corny as hell," my father laughs. "But something changed. Something about the air. It seemed cleaner, more refreshing. The skies lightened, the darkness of the world momentarily disappeared, and I just knew she was somewhere near me."

I smile at him. My fathers story warmed my heart. The feeling he described caused us all to have a slight skip in our step. I think we all knew I was well over due for my matching. Most discovered their other half when they celebrated their privilege to drive.

But here I am, at 17, almost 18 waiting for the man of my dreams to pop out from one of the many over done shrubberies we pass alongside the pathway.

I am not special though. Some don't experience love until their later years. The only drawback would be less time to spend with your soul mate. Most were lucky in that aspect.

My father told me that once I would become the age of revelation, he too, would reveal the story of him and my mother.

I think he's waiting until I actually get another tattoo before the whole story comes out.

My first tattoo was a crescent moon. No coloring, which was normal. Just a black outlined shape of the sky.

It formed on my upper back just at the age I had received my permit to drive. So many things coming up at once caused a lack of realization. I didn't know about it to for some time. Though it could never been known when God had stamped it on my skin.

Most of the time people receive three tattoos. Rarely will you receive one after your connection, but the last you get is the proof.

Somehow the government matches it. You and your mate will have a similar tattoo, popping up around the same time. Around the time you will meet.

But all the tattoos you get have something to do with your mate.

My mother and fathers were two roses. My fathers, on his elbow. My mothers, between her shoulder blades.

"Wills?" I jump at my mother calling my name. I stare at her. "Aren't you going to come to the recreational building? I hear they have a pool here now!" She grins.

I smile a toothy grin back, and nod.

△ △ △ △ △ △

"Wasn't that incredible Willow?" My mother shrieks. "Absolutely stupendous! This schools got my vote!"

"Maybe because someone went here prior to their young heiress?" I snigger at her gauntly enthusiasm.

She frowns. "She went here for two months before conceiving you." My father backfires. "Ruined her life didn't ya?" He pulls me close, and puts me into a head lock, giving me a good noogie.

My shoulder begins to hurt. I have no clue why as we tour the campus further.

"Even the shrubbery is infallible." My father whines to himself. God only knows why he loves this campus. He practically spent his youth here. Him and my mother both.

"I like WSU." I reassure my parents, shooting them a brief smile.

My parents grin back at me, ecstatic to hear my love for their educational history is as prized to me as it is to them.

"Do you have any Advil?" I ask my mother once the pain becomes unbearable.

"What's wrong?" My mother immediately hustles. Her eyebrows are raised, and she's quick to make her way to me.

"Now it's my rib cage." I speak absentmindedly.

My parents look confused. "First it was my shoulder. Now the pain is much worse on my torso. Right side. Just below my arm pit." I clarify.

"Excruciating?" My mother interjects.

I nod. "Yes." She's scrambling through her purse, but with no avail, or luck, her search for the medication runs cold.

"We will go to the local pharmacy. The car is quite a ways away. We will take transit."

My father nods in agreement, and we make our way to the bus stop. I limp slightly as I wonder what's gotten into my body.

"Sweetheart are you alright? Can you make it there?" My father asks me. They've always been such kind, and loving parents. Although their need to protect me and incase me into some unrealistic realm of warmth and love has been slightly suffocating for majority of my life.

"Yes, I will make it."

In the shower my hand shakily traces my curves, washing away the days swear and grime from my skin. I rinse my hair and body. I go in for round two. My packed razor glades against the rough, tainted skin of my arm pit.

I wash away, rubbing my arm pit, and the area below it. I flinch. Shit.

I look down, and I have to twist my body to see a painting of fresh black ink.

There on my skin is a new tattoo.

Following the theme of space, and planets, Jupiter is outlined in black and white. It is very small, like my moon tattoo.

The unknown pain now is explained.

When reality kicks in, I realize this is now my second tattoo. I take into consideration all that's happened to my body over the past week. My eyes especially. I swore I saw a new shade. I could have been sweating it, but I'm almost positive.

This means I'll be meeting my mate soon.