Soulmate Marks

Part 3

My hands began to tremble, causing the railing to shake. I could feel a sob work it's way up, and it took all my strength to hold it in. Leaving only a single tear to rolled down my cheek.

"I don't-I don't-I don't have a m-mark?" I choke out, staring at the wall in front of me. I couldn't face Grandma-or anything after what she just said.

"I'm sorry," She said, regret filling her voice.

As she went to take my hand, I noticed the faint outline of her mark on her finger. That's when I realized something.

"If Grandpa didn't have one either, how come you two are soulmates?"

"Because," Grandma sighed, drawing her hand back. For a few seconds she just stared at her index finger, tracing the little star that use to be there. Only a faint outline left.

"He's not my soulmate. My soulmate died when I was seventeen-before I ever got to meet him."

Suddenly guilt took over my body. Slowly, I reached out and took her hand, thinking about how much pain it must have caused her.

There wasn't a flash this time, the world just went dark. It was as if everything had darkened, things with light disappeared. But just like the blinding light, this black out merely lasted seconds.

Unlike before, the first thing I noticed was the smell. Freshly baked bread was displayed on the counter, causing the smell to fill the room. Cakes sat behind the window in the front, each one decorated differently, yet all equally beautiful.

Behind the counter, working the register, was an old woman. She had to be at least seventy, with short, grey hair, and wrinkles that shaped her face into a smile even though her mouth was in a line.

Just as she opened the cash register to begin counting the money, a boy bust through the kitchen doors. He was beaming with excitement as he held a tray of cookies in his hand.

"Ma!" He shouted, setting the tray on the counter. "I did it! I fixed the recipe!"

"Shhh!" The woman hushed, waving her hands around. "You're too loud Tommy."

"Sorry Ma," the boy, Tommy apologized kissing her on the cheek. "I just know how long you and grandma were working on it."

Smiling, the woman pat her son on the shoulder, as she stared at the cookies. Just as the bread did, the smell of chocolate chips took over the room. Looking back at Tommy, the old woman stared at him. You could see the pride radiating off of her as Tommy began rearranging the cookies.

And it was as he rearranged them did I see the star mark on his index finger.

Coming back from the vision, I realized this time was easier. It was as if I had pulled myself from the memory. I wasn't as exhausted, and my head didn't hurt. It felt as if I had been in control.

"Masiel?" Grandma's voice squeaked, her hand squeezing mine.

"I saw him," I mumbled.

"What?"

Quickly, I told her about everything I saw. I told her about Tommy and his Mother, the bread and his recipe. I told her about his mark. Part of me felt like I should be keeping this from her, prevent the thought of her soulmate coming back and hurting her even more. But the other part of me figured Grandpa must have told her already, so what harm was I doing?

When I had finished, Grandma dropped my hand and went back over to where her magazine was. At first I hadn't noticed, but on top of it sat a little chef figurine. It was a small, italian chef with the stereotypical chef hat and red apron. He had the famous mustache that twirled, and his left hand seemed to be twirling it. I couldn't help but shake my head at it.

"I know," Grandma sighed, a small smile forming on her lips. "It's dreadful, an ugly little thing. But you're grandfather gave it to me, as a wedding present."

She paused for a second, as if waiting for me to say something. But I just nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"When we first met, we shook hands so of course he saw who my soulmate was. At the time, he was still alive, so after your grandfather saw the vision of Tommy, he told me about it. He must have seen something different than you, because he never said anything about Tommy being a baker, but he did know he lived in Germany with his Mother and Grandmother.

After a lot of convincing, I got your grandfather to go with me and help me search for Thomas. Only when we got there too late. Apparently he had been sick for a while but hid it from his family, so it went untreated. But on June fifth his Mother found him on the floor, and he was rushed to the hospital. The next day he died. An hour before we arrived to Germany."

Grandma's voice began to waver, but she kept going.

"I remember showing up to his house, expectant. Only to find his red eyed Mother answer the door, and hear her scream as she saw the mark on my finger. I also remember Tommy's grandmother barely holding herself together as she took me to his room. That's when we saw this-" Indicating to the little figurine, she held it out to me. "Your grandfather grabbed it before we left, and a year later he proposed to me with it. Claimed that even if we got married, he'd never let me forget who Tommy was."

"Is that why," I started slowly, allowing Grandma to recover. "Why Uncle Uriah's middle name is Thomas?"

Grandma only nodded. After a few minutes of silence, I told Grandma I had enough for today and that she better go and get some rest. With reluctance, she finally left, scurrying out of the room, clutching the little figurine.

With her gone, I had the room to myself and was at last able to breath. It seemed like I had been through a million lives in only a matter of two days. My head spun, trying to grasp everything I had learned, and my heart raced from all the visions I had witnessed.

Yet through it all, I couldn't help but let a curse slip out of my mouth. Less than two days ago I couldn't wait for my mark. I sat in my kitchen waiting for it to come. And now, I wish they didn't exist at all.