Nameless

Prologue Checking my ankle has always been a habit—and it's one that I must break. I keep checking to see if a name will appear; truth is, no matter how much I tell myself otherwise, that'll never happen. I don't have a soul mate. In this day and age, everyone is born with their soul mate's name on their ankle, in fancy black calligraphy. Then, they spend their life looking for that person and once they find them, they have to spend time with each other. If someone goes more than a week without seeing their soul mate, they start to get sick—very sick. After two weeks of not seeing each other, they most likely will be hospitalized; it's just the way we learned. No one knows how it works though. All I know is that everyone everywhere has a soul mate. Well, everyone but me.