Happy birthday, I think to myself as I blow the candle on the cupcake I bought for myself from the grocery store.Eighteen. The oh-so-glorious age where you are officially considered an adult. I have always waited for this moment. I always thought it would be the age where I'd peak; the age where I would get to finally enjoy life by myself as an independent woman.
I guess I was right about one part.
I am by myself. I have been for a year now. Though if you want to count the time before it where I was left alone before someone finally decided to take me in, it'd be much longer than that. I can't seem to remember a time where there was a name coming before mine when I wanted to explain a situation. You'd think I'd be used to it after a year but no. Like an untamed fire which keeps on consuming more and more oxygen; it keeps getting worse.
The self-deprecation. The loneliness. I'm so isolated and alone that I'd say I'm like Fomalhaut. But even Fomalhaut was discovered to have companions.
I don't know where I went wrong.
I do.
Maybe if I kept my mouth shut at thirteen and didn't try to help her out my parents would have still kept me with them. I wouldn't have met Detective Emerson and ended up losing my family for the second time in my life.
But it's okay. Maybe I am not supposed to be blessed with familial love. Maybe I am meant to be independent.
But even the most independent people want someone to lean on every now and then. We all desire a home to go back to when life gets too harsh.
I sigh as I stare at the red velvet cupcake in front of me. It has always been my favorite. I used to not go a day without eating one when I was thirteen. Now, I only have it on my birthdays. A tradition I didn't want to let go of regardless of the fact that my family failed me countless times over.
I nibble on the cupcake before I see an envelope getting slid through the gap under the apartment's door.
I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as I walk towards it. Who'd send me an envelope? It's not like I have anyone who cares about me. I lost my last person a year ago. My biological family doesn't even know where I ended up. My heart rate picks up as I lean down towards the envelope and take it within my grasp.
Slowly, I open it and take the card stuffed inside, out.
Congratulations, you have been chosen to be one of the candidates of the year to customize your own soulmate! Our goal is to spread happiness and make loneliness perish from as many people as possible. Send us a message with your name and further information will be delivered if you decide to accept our offer.
In the bottom right corner was their contact information which I continued to gaze at in contemplation.
CYP
Create Your Person.
I have heard of that company before. People only ever praised it. I never heard a single negative feedback coming towards it which makes its good reputation stand out.
What I know about them is that they only approach 10 lonely people every single year. The minimum age requirement is 18 which I just hit. But how did they know about my solitary? I never applied for it or anything.
I stare at the card for a couple more minutes before I grab my phone and start typing in the number.
Maybe I'll finally be able to get rid of this suffocating loneliness.
YOU ARE READING
Fomalhaut [COMPLETED]
Teen FictionEvery year, 10 people are chosen to create their own soulmate of their choice. Valentina Emerson receives a letter telling her that she was picked to design her own Person on her 18th birthday. Burdened by loneliness, she finds herself considering...