A Prose With No Direction

hair tied by a red string

"Have you ever heard of the red string or fate?" I ask Hugh as we sit on the floor of my living room, wrappers of food and empty chip bags scatter about with the bright glare of the screen masking our faces in a ghostly appearance. Hugh sits behind me, his legs crossed and back leaning against the edge of my couch, fixing my hair into different styles of braids and updos. 

"In anime, yeah," he answers, tying my new updo with a hair tie. "Why do you ask?"

I shrug, grabbing the mirror he hands me to look at my new hairstyle. "I'm not sure," I answer honestly. "I just suddenly thought about it. I like this look by the way."

"Thanks," he replies with his pretty-boy smile, taking the mirror and dismantling his creation.

"Do you believe in it, though?" I inquire, turning my head to find his eyes. "That our whole life can be determined by one red string?"

Hugh purses his lips as he thinks, turning my head to face the front as he practices more hairstyles. "I don't believe it has the power to dictate us," he begins. "Because we have the power to choose and decide our own actions."

"But what if those actions, predetermined or not, end up leading us to the place the red string wanted us to be in," I say. "What if our free will is just all a hoax, and no matter what choices we make or what paths we take, we just end up in the same place the red string or God wanted us to be in. To me, it just makes reality sort of pointless, knowing that someone else had already planned my outcome."

Hugh runs his finger through my hair, brushing it. "But you once said nothing can define who or what we are besides ourselves," Hugh says, lifting my hair up. "How is our future any different? The choices and decisions we make now will ultimately define our future."

"Exactly," I say. "But what if those choices and decisions are all part of the plan made by someone else? Made by God, for example. It's like no matter what absurd path I take or stupid decision I make, it will still resort to the same outcome predetermined by something or someone else. I feel like the choices I make today is meant to make me feel I'm determining and defining my future. But what if that's all an illusion? What if all I said about us being the only one to define ourselves was actually false and that the way we are or the person we will become was already decided by a higher power?"

I sigh, my nonsensical rambling making me pout. "I'm sorry," I apologize, glancing back at Hugh. "My mind's usually like this, and I think about random things a lot. I must've sound crazy speaking my mind."

Hugh chuckles, patting my head. "I prefer it if you speak your mind," he says. "After all, learning how to communicate our honest thoughts is good."

I nod. "I guess," I say. "But I'm still curious about that string of fate though."

"I like it when you're curious," he comments, fixing my hair up into its final hairdo. He hands me the mirror. "What do you think?"

I look at my reflection, something I don't usually do for my physical appearance. 

"It's pretty," I answer, grinning as I stare back at his reflection on the mirror. 

"Right?" He affirms. "I thought so, too. It really makes you eyes pop and your neck longer."

I stare into Hugh's reflection, his ocean eyes a contrast to mine.

I purse my lips, feeling the annoying throbbing in my chest again.

The one that goes... 

Badump. 

I shift my position to face him, my legs crossed as I look at him face-to-face. 

"Do I look pretty?" I ask him, words upon words falling out without the consent of my mind. 

Hugh's ears paint its red color again, his lips pursed tightly as he nods. 

"You always do," he answers.

I blink at him. "Do I?"

My chest throbs and throbs, forming a rhythm that echoes inside the empty halls within me. My heart beats and races faster with every second that passes as the two of us sit in silence, half of me wanting to end it while the other curious to see where the silence will lead.

Hugh's fingers twitch, and his hand slowly moves towards me. But before anything happens, he clenches his hand and retreats it away, his expression lightening into a smile. 

"We're not really paying attention to the movie, now are we?" He chuckles, eyes finding comfort in the screen. "We should rewind it back—"

"Why did you hesitate?" My mouth moves, forming words upon words without the permission of my mind. 

Hugh slowly glances my way, his Adam's apple moving as he gulps. "Hesitate on what?"

I bite my lower lip. "Hesitating on—"

What are you doing?

I hear her say, chills rippling down my spine. I see her in the shadows of my living room, standing there with an ominous aura surrounding her. Her eyes glisten with an intense glare, harassing me with her wrath with just one look. 

Don't make me repeat the question.

I wasn't thinking when I said that. I swear.

I believe you. I'm just snapping you back into reality.

I'm sorry.

Just watch yourself.

She looks at me with her sad and protective eyes.

Please.

I will.

"Clara..." Hugh calls.

I look back at him. "Sorry, let's just rewind the movie," I say, moving forward. Hugh doesn't say anything and replays the parts we missed. As we continue to watch the movie, I can't help but keep stealing quick glances at him, admiring his chiseled features and soft, chestnut-brown hair. But I don't stare for more than a second in fear I may hurt her again.

After a while, my attention returns to the movie and it remains focus on it until the very end. Once it's finish, Hugh and I begin to clean up our mess and get ready for bed, him sleeping on the floor while I on the couch.

"Do you wanna go on Youtube before we call it a night?" Hugh asks me as I throw our food wrappers and trash down the garbage bag. 

"Yeah," I answer, finishing my cleanup. I turn the lights in the living room off and the two of us sit down on the floor again, a blanket around my body and one on Hugh's lap. He pulls out his phone, its brightness illuminating the dark room. 

As we scroll through his recommendations, I find a video that catches my eyes. I point at it, tugging on Hugh's shirt.

"I wanna see that one," I tell him, eyes looking up to meet his.

Hugh chuckles. "Tarot card reading?" He says, glancing at me. "You're into that? I thought you said you didn't like the idea of someone or something determining your future."

"Let's just try it for fun," I say, clicking on the video. "Back when I had friends, they would go to tarot card readers and have their love life told to them all the time."

"Love life?" Hugh teases. "You don't seem like the type to be interested in that."

I smirk, looking up at him. "Well, I am now."