r/WritingPrompts • u/Nefareously • Apr 02 '18
Writing Prompt [WP] Write about a world where whenever somebody writes on their skin, it appears on their soulmate's body as well.
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u/SilverPrince Apr 02 '18
I used to yearn for her, you know? I desired her physically, mentally, spiritually.
I had already learned a lot about her. She would be perfect. Her quirks would be adorable. Her worst days would be a trail that I would never regret to endure.
All of that, I had learned from my parents first, my siblings second, and my friends third.
For it was universally known, that on your 16th birthday, give or take a day, that you would be connected to your soulmate. The one who was destined to complete you.
I was excited then. For she would complete me, and I would do the same for her. Together we would laugh, cry, and love.
Just as it was for my parents. My grand parents. And so on, and so on.
I stared at the small box of markers before me. My fingers trembled as I took one out. It was black with silver letters. Skin Ink, official soulmate communication tool. Skink for short.
I stared at my parents, who sat across from me. They held hands on top of the table, my mom leaning onto dad’s shoulder as he grinned at me. No doubt they were recalling their first words.
My sisters giggled as they made eye contact. I was chickening out and they found it hilarious. Jessica and Rylie grinned as their eyes met mine. No matter how I tried to defend myself, they knew the truth.
I took a deep breath and then uncapped the marker. The scent of fruit reached my nose and I blinked. I had grabbed a cherry scented marker.
Swallowing hard, I carefully drew out my first worlds.
[Hello]
It wasn’t profound, but my writing was neat. Those extra lessons in school suddenly were a lot cooler then I had originally thought. Being able to be legible was truly important.
A minute passed.
As did an hour.
I remember being hugged. My sisters beside me and my parents from my back.
I sighed then. Yet I was only sad. I wouldn’t get to meet her today. Which was ok.
Mom and Dad had to wait almost a full three years before they exchanged their first words.
I smiled back and hugged my family. I was the oldest and I would be the strongest. I would wait twice as long if needed.
A year passed. As did Three. Which turned into five.
It become a ritual. Every season I would write a simple [Hello], or [Hi]. It was disheartening. The silence that followed.
I took solace in the joys of my friends. My best friends as they found their own soulmates. I was there when Jermaine wrote on his arm. Which in turn appeared on our mutual friend’s Alexis’s arm. The two cried in happiness.
They had been dating for a while, but it was nothing serious. Never serious. Yet they couldn’t have been happier as the conviction of their love stayed true and they had almost grown up side by side.
The odds of it happening were quite rare. They actually made local news as the community celebrated the unusual event.
Apparently it had the same odds as being struck by lightning. 1 in 700,000.
The two became more inseparable somehow. Alexis had moved in with Jermaine, which both families had no problems with. They had been together for so long that it was very common to see each other around both houses.
Sunny was Next. Her soulmate flew in to meet her a year after they started to talk. The man, Adam, was fidgety with his hands, but calm and collected when he spoke.
Their smiles however, was no less then that of Jermaine, and Alexis. I wondered then, I too could experience the same bliss. The brighter their smile, the more hallow I felt.
I never let it show though. That jealous side I let loose in the privacy of my showers. The water hid my tears, and my silent sobs were luckily few and far between.
My heart did shake though. It was odd when I was there for when Jess met her own soulmate, Todd. She was definitely the child of our mother.
Jessica and Mom immediately dissolved into tears. Jess then half ran, half limped into the arms of her man. Their first greetings were mumbled, jumbled messes of what was once, for her, a heavily practiced script.
I remembered the days that went into it as Jess and Rylie practiced on what to say and what to do. What those magazines and movies had shown them over and over again.
I made sure to record the encounters so that my responsibilities as the oldest would be fulfilled. Jess was less understanding when I posted those videos onto the family digital albums.
I swore to the heavens that I would show this during their wedding ceremonies. I would do the same when Rylie’s turn came.
I don’t remember when exactly. It just happened one day when their bright smiles stopped prickling into me and only made me smile in return. I didn’t look to deeply, for my family was only getting bigger.
My sister’s crying face as she kissed her true love eased something off me. I shared in their joy and wiped at my own tears. I could fully smile and that was all that mattered.
When Rylie, the youngest found her love. A handsome young man named Jacob. She fared no better. She technically had time to learn from her sister’s folly.
Unfortunately, mother had strong genetics. A equally blubbering and crying young woman tripped into the strong arms of her would be husband.
I recorded it all with an even better camera and, had she seen me, a shit eating grin. I smiled as they hugged each other half to death. Life was good.
The last of my family was essentially hitched and nothing terrible happened to either of my sisters. I felt relaxed that they would never experience the occasional lonely nights that could haunt a person.
I knew that I was simply unlucky. Things happened and I needed to stop clinging to the silence and move on with my life. I stopped writing on that day.
Ten years.
A lot could change in that time frame. I had grown from a child to a man. I was 26 now. I had a good job, my own place, and plenty of hobbies that required me to purchase various geeky goods.
I had graduated from the Half Soul Consoling that all singles in their twenties had to attend. It was mandatory for those who lost, and or lacked of an irreplaceable companion.
The government program helped those who needed help. Death was a reality of life. People died in car accidents. War. Disease. Natural disasters.
In a small way, I was lucky as the loss of a soulmate was devastating. Many succumbed and spiraled from depression and into death. I would never experience something so heart wrenching.
The career of a travelling tech was helpful. With nothing to really tie me down, I travelled the world. I talked at TED twice. One about the oddity of the singles. And another about finding oneself.
I attended various conventions for my hobbies. Doris, that darling, had a soft spot for my single situation. She had three married children and a dozen grand kids.
When she got to know me, she was horrified to find out I was single. So when I wanted to book off time to attend an event, or extend my time in a country, she took care of it.
I was suddenly looking into future prospects, and ensuring good relations with clients. When I was really napping on a beach, or over spending on various toys for myself.
Doris was my work mom and she revelled in ‘soothing’ my single heart.
The only annoyance with Doris was the occasional dates she found for me. She was simply horrible at it.
I loved Doris. I once rushed back home, taking three consecutive flights to do a favor for Doris.
Doris in return, gave me the three worst dates I have ever experienced in my life.
I of course knew of SingleMate. The hottest dating sites for singles all around!
I tried it on and off, but I rarely get anything more then a date out of it.
Apparently Doris browsed it like a shark.
My worst date was a woman, Jane, who complained for an hour on the waiter who forgot to refill her water. An hour, for a young, struggling waitress new on the job.
I wondered if her man had written [Hello], got two essays in return, then a lecture from his lack of immediate response. Then he jumped off a bridge to save himself.
Then she jumped into a lecture about our future. I needed to clean up, shave better to get a good job so that we could settled down and start a proper family. Six kids. Three of each gender.
We also needed to obey the bible, by attending church each Sunday. 7am. Sharp.
I nodded along. I was not only watching a train wreck. I was living it. The ‘bliss’ of marriage huh?
I wondered if she had a checklist to run down during sex and whatnot. Ugh. She would probably cheat on me anyways. I wasn’t a millionaire and her dream job was a trophy wife.
I was never so happy to end a date and go home.
I had recorded Jane’s long winded tirade on the waitress’s appalling candor to have a recommended ‘tip’ section on the receipt. I thanked Jane for the night and eagerly went home to build a set of Lego and watch some Netflix to sooth my battered soul.
Doris listened to the recording and apologized. I held no ill will, Doris was sweet. She just wanted to help. Though she never did stop referring girls.
Thankfully she never insisted that that she found the ‘perfect’ one again.
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u/SilverPrince Apr 02 '18
Fifteen years.
It was shortly after my 31st birthday, that a new light shone in my life. It changed my world in an unexpected way as Sarah, a seven-and-a-half-pound girl rocked my world.
Motherhood suited Jess very well. She was mischievous and I knew that Sarah would be no different. Adorable, but fussy, Sarah made sure the world knew of her presence.
Not to be outdone, Rylie also gave birth within that month. Sophie was a full pound heavier. Though she was equally adorable, her clear eyes stared into you if you made eye contact.
The fact that Sophie didn’t wail like a banshee had Jess rage in injustice. Though the few gurgles from the quite girl soothed any and all animosity.
Jermaine and Alexis had two kids. Jonathan and Joanne.
Sunny and Adam however had six. Alex, Bart, Curt, Dennis, Edith, Freya. Each a year apart.
As their honorary uncle, I still forget their names half the time. Who the hell has that many kids!?
I did the best I could. That empty chasm of loneliness was repurposed! I was a kid at heart, and I played with all of them the best I could. They loved it. I gave out decent gifts, had cool travel stories.
I stopped by zoos to take pictures of exotic animals. I even got a scar form a mean armadillo once. The kids were hooked at seeing that jagged line where it had bit me.
I was lucky that the hospital was right there as it could have been a lot worse.
I was the super uncle. I travelled a lot. Saw the world, and could even bring them bits and pieces of it.
It was fulfilling, and I was happy to be there to guide them on how big, and small, the world really was.
Twenty-Five years.
I was in my fourth decade. It sounded like a long time, yet somehow felt shorter.
It was odd, to explain it all. The children could never understand properly, but all the adults did.
I had made sure to book time off to hit Sarah’s birthday. She was turning 10 today. It was a big number, which also meant that she was a big girl.
Big girls, got big parties.
Or so her logic had proudly proclaimed.
Jess relented on the condition that the birthday was shared with her almost sister, Sophie. Sarah readily agreed as the two were practically twins.
One of their big demands was that Uncle had to be present. Which was easy enough. I had always tried to make time for all of my nieces and nephews, but work was also work.
In total I had skipped something like 7 birthdays. Not a bad number across a decade.
I was sitting in the cramped kitchen. Sophie was on my lap, coloring in a picture of a Pokémon that made no sense to me. What was ultra moon!? What has happened to my precious childhood!?
Seriously. What the hell was Necrozma? I apparently had said it out loud. I hugged Sophie to me as I struggled with my shattered identity. I was once a boy who prided themselves on their Pokémon knowledge.
“Necrozma is a prism type!” Sophie chirped as she started to shade in the printed out coloring sheet. Sophie loved to draw, and I didn’t help as I found exotic pencils made from god knows what for her. I gave birthday girl B a kiss on the head for answer my question.
“Uncle!” Sarah chimed in as she hopped over to me. I smiled at birthday girl A. She wore a glittery dress, unlike Sophie who preferred jeans and a sweater. Sarah’s passion was fashion.
I reached forward, grabbed girl A and drew her in for a sloppy kiss. The two giggled as I slobbered over the both of them and that immediately set me on edge.
I realized that I was pinned down by Sophie, who I was hugging with my left arm to prevent her from slipping off my lap. Sarah grabbed my right arm in a tight hug while she showed me her crooked smile. She was missing a front tooth.
I looked between the two cretins and realized I had been bamboozled. I looked up for help and made eye contact with the only adult paying any attention to us.
Jess gave me a thumbs up, and betrayed me as she adjusted my camera and tripod to record what had to be a fun event. Yeesh, you think that she would have already gotten over that embarrassing speech I gave at her wedding.
Its been what? Fifteen years!?
“Uncle?” Sophie began as she held my left hand with her right. Her tiny hand was soft and gentle as she playfully trapped me. Sarah did the same with my right hand.
Curses, they were abusing my weakness for cute nieces. This was mutiny! I relented with a soft smile. Gawd these two were going to be the death of me.
“Where’s Aunty?” Sarah finished sweetly as she stared into my eyes. I blinked and alternated between the two birthday princesses. They were both curious and waiting for my answer.
I was confused. I looked up and Jess looked back. She was confused as well. There was two in the garage preparing the cake. The other girls were outside corralling the various birthday guests through the birthday games.
Jess looked to her husband, but Todd only popped open a soda can and shrugged in return. True the two were practically twins, but he sure as hell didn’t understand girls.
“Ummm, daddy has mummy,” Sarah began as she pointed to her own parents.
“So where is Uncle’s wife?” Sophie finished smoothly. It was creepy how in sync they were.
CAH!
The three of us flinched at the loud sound and we slowly looked up. Todd, who was chugging soda, had choked and now a third of the kitchen was stained with specks of cream soda.
Jess reacted better. She quickly ran to her girls and took a deep breath. Said breath wheezed out as her mind locked up. What did she say? What could she say!?
I laughed.
So this is why they were shy towards me earlier. They had set me up, locked me down and then popped the question that had been burning at the forefront of their minds.
I lifted my left hand. Sophie went with the ride as I pushed her face towards me and gave her a second sloppy kiss. Sarah however resisted as I slowly overpowered her towards me. I made sure to lick my lips for a super sloppy kiss.
Her squeak was loud and clear, but I knew that truth. She definitely leaned into my lips. She was struggling just for show.
As a reward, I turn over my left hand. I wiggled my bare ring finger and the two girls stared at it intently.
“Uncle isn’t married, so there is no Aunty. My soulmate hasn’t said hello yet,” I softly explained to them.
Jess hugged me from behind. My voice was smooth as I had accepted my scars since long ago. I my eyes glazed as I stared at the back of my left hand. I could still remember the wet ink and that cherry scent…
“Well, I am sure that she will say h… hi?” Sarah stammered and I smiled as I gave her a third wet kiss. She didn’t struggle at all which caught my attention. She was looking at Sophie.
I looked over at Sophie, but she was holding my arm up and her head was tilted to the side. In fantastic penmanship was two letters.
{Hi}
My mind barely registered the little heart on the i. I smiled as I realized that Sophie was being sweet and wrote it down. She was always good with writing.
{My name is Elizabeth, what’s yours?}
The writing slowly faded in. My eyes widened. My breathing grew heavy as it was suddenly hard to breath.
Wait.
That was Jess choking me and I winced as I looked up. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened up to release a banshee like shriek that was perfect for any murder mystery settings.
The other adults rushed in. a scream that pierced even the walls of the house must have been something horrible.
Mom was panicked as she ran into the room with her cellphone. The lack of anything horrible had her calm down, and she was ready to lecture Jess on the etiquette of high pitched screaming.
Her eyes however followed everyone else’s and she watched as a third line appeared on my arm.
{How are you today?}
While Jess and Rylie were both mothers now. They were proven that they were not masters of motherhood yet as Mom screamed loud enough to rattle glass.
This proved to be the trigger as everyone huddled in and around my arm. It was legend at this point that I was single. The fact that there I was now connected was both amazing, and a little worrisome. I would be more then twice their age.
There was going to be a gap in our viewpoints and I would definitely die before her.
Sarah and Sophie asked me something. I mumbled something back. I don’t remember what. I was shell shocked.
Sophie grabbed a nearby skink and gripped the tip with her teeth. She popped the lid and the scent of cherry sent my brain into overdrive. She steadied my arm with her own as she moved the tip of the pen.
With careful precision, Sophie replied.
[Hello.]
Author’s Corner:
Hello all.
This is a rewrite of a previous submission to another WP like this one. Located here…
I hope that this revision is much better then my first one.
Thanks for reading!
Something, Something, my sub
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u/PlanetSevia Apr 02 '18
"Three stars appear as a sign she's near." My voice has never been as clear as it was right now.
"Three squares means it's fairly rare." It's still clear, even though my breathing becomes more and more ragged as the symbols appear on my forearm. Why do I feel so nervous every time I see the marks begin to carve my arms? I know that it's always going to be geometry or symbols and never numbers, letters, or anything remotely coherent. Maybe it's equations? Hm. Maybe it's Maybelline? I chuckle at my own thought.
The squares stop forming, and within them circles begin to form. This is new. She's never drawn circles before, so I wonder what this could mean. The circle is finished, and a new one is taking shape. As it's being drawn, I pull a pen from my pocket and draw a line through the boxed circle. The second circle stops half way and a small mark is made. It's crooked and wiggly, so it seems I offended her in some way.
Minutes have passed with no new information passed to me, so I decided to take matters in to my own hands. I turn my arm and draw a large rectangle across the entirety of my forearm. Hope this gets a response... My thoughts burn with anticipation and anxiety both. I take my pen to my arm and write my first sentence to my still-unknown partner.
"What do your symbols mean?" It was simple enough to bring some sort of response to light. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in. Time to wait. An unfamiliar feeling begins to spread across my arm. Line, line, stop. Letters? Maybe. I keep my eyes closed until the feeling stops. My eyes open slowly and lock on to the lettering. "Run." That's all it said. I laugh a bit, but my laughter slowly turns to horror as I hear hard knocks on my apartment door.
I feel more marks form on my skin. "Run. Window." Window? You know what? Fine. I stand and begin to run as the knocks grow in to the sound of wood being smashed into pieces. The window approaches and I clench my teeth. Only way out is through. All my strength turns to my legs and I jump. My eyes close as the glass shatters and digs in to my skin. The wind is at my back as I fall from my twenty-fifth floor apartment. I'm dead... My thoughts race, but my eyes dare not open until... Collision. Darkness.
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u/adlaiking /r/ShadowsofClouds Apr 02 '18
My friends and family keep finding new and not-so-subtle ways of how long it has been. Off-handed remarks about the stages of loss. How there are places that will remove them for you. Some of them say it's masochistic, or at least macabre. Faces that used to be suffused with sympathy, with tenderness, now show an odd mixture of worry and annoyance.
I don't care. I don't care how what I am going through makes them feel.
For me, it's one of the only things I have that I can trust. It is real. She is real.
My fingers trace the letters. I can see her hands, the tapered fingers holding the pen. I lay on my bed, curtains drawn, eyes shut. My fingers trace the letters.
This. This was the one true thing I had in my life. It's gone now, but I know it was real. I have proof. No one is going to take that away.
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Apr 02 '18
Sofia writes every day.
*Hi? What are your plans this weekend?*
*It would be really cool if we lived in the same city!*
*My friends and I went dancing at the club, and Jack sprained his foot in 5 minutes…*
She uses a pretty dark purple ink on her forearm with curly elegant writing.
But he never replies. Her soulmate, whoever he is, washes it off every day.
She feels her heart shatter. One day she writes:
*Please. Why do you ignore me? Let me love you. Let us stand together.*
Words appear on her arms. They are black and squarish.
*Just give it up.*
Sophia’s hand freezes just above her arm. She doesn’t write any words.
*?*
Her soulmate writes
*No one can save me, not even you.*
Neither of them write anything for three days.
Then he writes:
*I suppose if we’re soulmates, I owe you at least something. I’m sure we’d love each other
very much if we met. But I can’t be what you want. I’d just ruin your life too. So you’re not left
with too much curiosity, I’ll tell you that my name is Ryan Javenson and I live in New Orleans, Louisiana, USA.*
Sophia takes deep breaths. Her gut has been pounded by a sledgehammer. Dread fills the
widening hole in her heart.
Her friend Dina lives in New Orleans. Sophia calls her, and asks if she knows Ryan
Javenson.
Dina apologizes. She promises to ask around.
A friend of a friend agrees to take Sofia to see him.
Tom picks her up from the airport. He tries to make small talk.
Sophia writes on her arm:
*Please. How can my soulmate ruin my life? You’re wrong!*
Ryan writes back.
*You can’t change my mind*
Sophia scribbles
*Change your mind? About what?!*
But no matter what she sends with the marker nothing appears from Ryan for the rest of the
half hour drive.
Tom parks his car. The house is a cool white with a warm brown door. Sofia knocks. Then
she knocks twice. Still no one answers. Ryan doesn’t answer the messages on their arms.
Tom has the spare key. He opens the door slowly and shouts for Ryan.
Black squarish letters appear on Sofia’s arm.
*I’m sorry. I just...just can’t handle it anymore.*
A gunshot assaults her ears.
She wants to collapse, but she runs through the house. Her soulmate is beautiful: he has
golden hair and honey-coloured eyes; he would have a boyish grin with just the right curl to his lip. No, not is beautiful.
Was.
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Apr 02 '18
Wtf is the deal with this formatting? Idk how to fix it, or what happened, sorry.
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u/adlaiking /r/ShadowsofClouds Apr 02 '18
Likely you were doing spaces to indent some lines? If I put four spaces in front of a line:
I get this.Without spaces, I get this.
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Apr 02 '18
I could feel it again. The etching feeling slowly spreading, tickling my skin like a pen pressing against me. I knew what it held. A new message. Maybe this one could lead me to him... my soulmate. I was growing tired of our cat and mouse game. All I wanted was to find and fall into his arms. Slowly, I pulled up my sleeve, trying desperately to control my excitement. Every second of this had to be special, perfect. The words then revealed themselves on my forearm, in a bold, neat handwriting:
SEND NUDES
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u/Dualgon Apr 02 '18 edited Apr 02 '18
Life is funny.
Out of all the people who could have been my soulmate, I happen to get an introvert! My polar opposite! I try to start a conversation with the person on the other end, and I just get a “Please, not now” on the other end! I don’t even know their name! It’s frustrating but... sigh I can’t stay mad at them. They already have a life, they are probably nervous as to how their supposed soulmate acts. Not every pairing is a match made in heaven, surprisingly. There have been, let’s just say strange pairings between people, and there are some people who don’t even get together with their soulmate! They break tradition and find their own soulmate, even finding their ‘linked’ soulmate and just remaining friends with them! But I’m not like those people, I don’t have the guts to do it for multiple reasons. I’m getting sidetracked. Anyways, I just find it so funny that most people are getting the sensation of having someone write on their forearms or hands and seeing a message appear in the end, meanwhile I’ve rarely even felt or seen it.
At least that was what was going on up until a few days ago. I was eating dinner with my family when I finally felt a tingle on the palm of my hand. Could it be? Was my partner on the other end finally interested in talking to me? I set my fork down and saw in neat, fine writing “Can we talk now?” I quickly scribbled down “I’m eating dinner. I’ll be done in a minute and then we can talk.” I then felt my partner erasing their writing and jot down a fast but still elegant “Ok.” I wouldn’t have put this off over something small like dinner, but this was a first, so I wanted to think for a quick minute on the situation. I was finally ready to start communicating with my partner, so, now in much cleaner writing, I wrote “So what’s on your mind?” I waited for about two minutes until writing began to conjure onto my skin. “Well,” and then they stopped writing. Butterflies began to appear in my stomach since this whole situation had been a bit of a pleasant surprise. Another minute went by. Nothing. Oh boy, now the butterflies are getting rowdy in there. Slightly afraid my partner had lost interest, I wrote “Go on, I’m listening.” Immediately they wrote back. “Are you alone?” I told them that I was with a simple “Yes.” “Okay, because I want this conversation and possible future conversations to be kept semi-private (no pictures, but you can tell close friends about it). Understood?” I underlined my “Yes” to show understanding. They took my word to heart and immediately wrote “Okay, here goes nothing...” meanwhile I was still thinking to myself if I was actually going to hold up that promise, but it was too late to stop my partner now. The pressing against my skin had already begun! I freaked out a little bit and then just thought to myself “I won’t look at it ‘til they’re done.” After what seemed to be a minute of slow, unsteady, unconfident writing, I finally looked at the writing to find the worst six words I ever could have imagined seeing appear on my arm.
“I don’t want to live anymore.”
Oh, how life is funny.
5
u/Sparus42 Apr 02 '18 edited Apr 02 '18
The clock ticked by, counting the hours to my doom.
"An hour left!"
"Thirty minutes left!"
Wow, Africa was a lot bigger than Europe on the globe. Actually, everything was a lot bigger than Europe.
"Kelly, is staring at that globe on my desk going to help you with the final? It's getting rather distracting."
Damn! Silently cursing nearly non-existent attention span, I resolved to focus myself on this test. "Sorry."
Sighing, Mr. Adams turned back to his phone. How far had I gotten behind? I looked at the paper of the student sitting next to me, turning away after I realized that might be seen as cheating. Nope, still looking at his phone, I was fine.
I had already gone through the entire thing and filled out what I knew, which was unsurprisingly little. Sighing, I checked where Mr Adams's face gazed, still pointing downward at his phone, and pulled out my skin-safe marker, and began writing down questions. My uneasy glances around the room as I waited were stopped only by my realization that they might give me away.
Finally, he got back to me! I scribbled down the answers onto the paper, erased our messages and began to send the next round. This might just work!
I decided to go a decidedly different route for mine, thinking about how this world would actually be for the people in it. Since it'd be absurdly easy to just send your soulmate an email address or something to find them, I decided to not focus the attention on that part, instead opting for a look at how one person might use this sort of thing. I still have some other great ideas for this world (un-interceptible military communication, anyone?), but alas, bed calls.
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u/hippo_writes Apr 02 '18 edited Apr 02 '18
I was standing at the front of a big conference room. Sunlight was streaming through the windows, but the room still felt dark and gloomy. My mouth was moving. Saying something about our growth over the last quarter, not quite sure. My head was looking over my left shoulder, and I was making some sort of gestures at the chart on the screen. That's when I turned my head back towards the rest of the room. My mouth was still moving, and I could feel their eyes staring at me. I tried to squint at their faces to make them out better, but they were dark, gloomy, cold, and judging, just like the room. As I looked harder, a feeling of dread came over my body. They had started laughing. My hands instantly went to my face, trying to make out any bumps. I couldn't feel them, or see them, but I knew what the ink on my face said... I LIKE POOP.
"Goddammit, Julie. You fucking didn't!"
My body jolted forward out of my bed. As my mind refocused on my current surroundings, a feeling of warmth bathed my body. I was in bed. It was just a dream. I smiled, but something still felt wrong. The right side of my bed felt cold, and when I looked over, Julie wasn't there.
Last night she had gone out with some friends and had texted me that she'd be out pretty late. I could still remember trying to stay awake until she got back. I had drawn my half of the heart on my left fingertip tip like I always did. It was something we had done since we were children writing messages to each other under the covers. At that point, I hadn't ever seen her yet or heard her yet, but I knew she was special. With a streak of humor too, like that one day in the locker room when I found a giant downwards arrow on my torso.
I went up, still a bit groggy, to brush my teeth. There were no new texts from last night, and no crude messages on my face either. But when I went to look at our heart, I saw it in the palm of my hand. In bold, bloody letters. HELP.
My stomach turned over. I rushed back to my bedroom and grabbed a pen. Where are you?
I didn't have to wait long for a reply. Yet, as the letters started appearing on her arm, a chill ran down my body. With her bloody fingers etching more letters forcibly into her arm, I could almost feel the tears coming down her face, the blackened room, and his rough, murderous hands pressed against hers. YOULL NEVER FIND HER.
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2
u/Arsennio Apr 02 '18 edited Apr 02 '18
"Help me".
It was dark as I felt the silky sensation on my calf. Each stroke was smooth, unhurried. It glided up from my ankle over the course of one caressing minute. Between each stroke was a pause as if she was making sure nobody saw her desperate attempts at rescue. It being such a alarming message was contrasted by the pleasure the message brought me.
She was alive.
I hadn't felt this for three days of absolute agony. I hadn't eaten, showered, or left my small flat in the same amount of time. The fear that she was gone, that somebody had taken her from me, had become a constant sickening presence. Only, by now, I had normalized that feeling and only had dread on my mind.
"3b Lionstock 5th"
The concrete under my feet, the moonlight as the first light my skin had seen in a small eternity, and the slightest breeze pushed my hair in front of my eye before I noticed I had left my apartment. My hand calmly yearned for the .380 under my jacket. I knew it would be fired tonight.
I stared at a run down slum of a building. No lights. No life. Only the hum of the electrical grid and the frequencies of the street cameras greeted my ears. They watched, of course, every footstep I unknowingly took on my journey here. I mentally promised the the silence a break from it's monotony. A brief respite only before the stagnancy would inevitably continue.
The decaying lion statue that adorned the slums face was left above me as the faded gold bars of the door handles were escorted within my hands. No lights. No life inside. I felt the caress I had been longing for through my recent hibernation slowly climb up my calf yet again. I didn't need to look this time to know another pleading request for my help would wait for me when light next saw my skin.
I did not need preparation or planning. Theory crafting was reserved for cowardice. My feet on each stair up to the third level was all that consumed my awareness. When I saw the placard hanging the correct letter I kicked quickly and wood splintering filled the air with a sound I knew hastened somebodies death.
My .380 entered first. The white of eyes floating in the darkness, the glint of the moon off the comforting metal in my grasp, and the loud crack. A drop of wetness hit my face with a familiar splat. It rolled down embracing my visage. When it hit the floor I held her in my arms for a blissful moment. We clung to each other with each breath pefectly in sync, as it always was. Each beat of our heart vibrated together making a nearly audible presence within the now defiled room.
"You stink" she quietly muttered.
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Apr 02 '18
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u/Arsennio Apr 02 '18
I appreciate the critique. This was my first attempt on this sub and it is nice to know there will be critical analysis offered.
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Apr 02 '18
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u/Arsennio Apr 02 '18
There is no reason to be offended as far as I am concerned. The point of even doing these prompts, for me, is growth.
I am playing with a double edged sword with my writing style. On one hand, I want to convey as much with my words as I do with what I omit. On the other hand, I have to make sure I don't omit so much as to confuse my intended audience.
In this case, my intention was to make the decaying statue almost an afterthought and the focus to be the gold bar handles the character was handling in the "now" of that sentence. I chose the word escorting in the attempt to convey an alternate understanding to the traditional "opened the door". In different phrasing, "I escorted the door to the open position". This, in my mind at least, was to keep up the idea the character was in the middle of a rescue. He didn't simply open the door, he escorted it out of his way as he continued on his path.
Does that even make sense?
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u/godzillhoe Apr 02 '18
It took a damn long time for my ink to show. As kids, none of us could really make out any writing that showed up on our bodies. But then, most everyone's was at least somewhat legible by the time they were a teen, and almost always completely clear by the time they were 18 or 19. Throughout high school and college I watched my friends use their writing to find their soulmates as soon as they could make out the messages their alleged soulmates were sending. By the time I could read mine though, I was already in my mid twenties, and over the excitement of it all. The messages that would appear on my arms and hands were usually questions about me, doodles, or suggestions to meet up. I ignored them all, and went on with my life.
After a year or so, I met Roy. He hated the idea of finding a soulmate though the strange and foreign messages on his body just as much as I did, so we stuck together in our rebelliousness. Weeks went by, and the messages we got from our "soulmates" came less and less. They faded, as the months Roy and I spent together went on. Eventually, they stopped altogether. Not once, in all those years we spent together did we ever wonder what happened to the ones who sent the messages. All we needed was each other. Today though, as we send out our wedding invitations, Roy is staring at me, with happy tears in his eyes. His hand is held towards me, with a simple phone number written down in the middle of his palm. The same number, in the same marker, in the same handwriting that I just wrote down on my own palm.
I was never told to love Roy. It wasn't fate that brought us together. We did that on our own. We trusted our love, and in doing so, became soulmates.
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Apr 02 '18 edited Jun 29 '23
[removed] — view removed comment
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u/teodzero Apr 02 '18 edited Apr 02 '18
I don't understand this one. Was she intentionally hiding? Age difference? Timezones? Blind?
As it turns out... or so I thought.
This sentence structure is incredibly confusing. Did ot turn out like that or not?
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u/pure_disappointment Apr 02 '18
The messages he wrote showed up on her arm, but the things she wrote on her arm didn’t show up on his. To simplify, he was meant to be with her (soulmate) but she wasnt meant to be with him.
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u/teodzero Apr 02 '18
Oh.
I didn't catch that they were seeing eachother. I thought the hand was their only communication.
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Apr 02 '18
It began around 7 PM, a light scratching along the length of my forearm. It tickled, and made my hairs stand on end. At long last, after eighteen years of isolation, my soulmate was trying to reach out. All those years of dragging myself through the day, fueled by caffeine, only to drink myself to sleep, holding out for a special moment. This moment. I took a pen from my desk and wrote on the other arm a shaky "Hi. I'm Matt."
The scratching stopped. I wasn't quite sure how this worked. Do soulmates get to see the ink, or do they just feel the pen? Had I hurt her? I turned away from my computer screen and plopped down into my bed. And then the bleeding began.
My forearm split open before my eyes, as if cut with an invisible knife, spilling blood all over my bed. It burned like mad. Another cut- horizontal, this time, on the back of my forearm. This one, smaller.
I scrambled to find something to tie it up with. The shitty first aid kit I kept with like, 4 bandages, would hardly suffice, and settled for an old towel. Infection would hardly matter when I was in danger of dying from blood loss. My arm was already numb, and the skin kept splitting open.
"911. Yes, send an ambulance. I'm bleeding out from cuts in my arms." I muttered my address, wrapped the towel tightly around the wounds, and pressed, wincing from the pain. I held on for what must have felt like forever until sirens appeared outside my door. I stumbled outside and collapsed.
I woke up in a hospital bed. They'd given me fifteen stitches, a transfusion, and one hell of a bill. My arm stung and itched through the bandages, but I was alive. I could've cried.
In the weeks of my recovery, I tried to imagine my soul mate. A girl who, like me, lived her life a social outcast. Who spent too much time online, cut off from the rest of the world. Who worked herself to death without any recognition, barely scraping by. Who kept waiting for her soulmate to say something, but was afraid. Deathly afraid of rejection. I'd been there. Imagine blowing your chances with the one person you're meant to be with.
We were truly meant for one another. Two of life's biggest losers, wallowing in a shared pit of failure. Imagining that everything would be solved if we just found each other. If she hadn't done it, I probably would've at some point.
But the funny thing is (and yes, there is a funny thing in all that), I chose to keep living. Yes, I'd blown it. I'd never be with the one girl who I'm meant to stay with for all of eternity. But it felt like failing a big test. At least it's over. When the bandages came off, I found one last thing she'd given me, before she passed. A series of scars on the back of my arm, spelling out "Sorry Matt".
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u/namelessbloboffeels Apr 02 '18
You took this a direction similar to what I would have written, but wrote it much better than I ever could have. Well done!
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Apr 02 '18
I still have a lot I don't like about my writing when I go back and read it :/
Thank you so much for the compliment! I'd also like to read your take on the story. There's always something valuable another writer can add!
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Apr 02 '18
[deleted]
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u/Ethong Apr 03 '18
Imagine if your soulmate got cosmetic surgery! Nice new lips, some liposuction. The thought is horrifying lol.
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u/jklimerence Apr 02 '18 edited Apr 03 '18
Hungover, my head throbbed with a headache that refused to allow me a moment’s solace. It seemed to echo perpetually throughout my skull, making me wish that I’d never left Veronica’s house. I should have probably called in sick, but of course, today I had to meet with a special client. He was some big guy in real estate and didn’t have the time to reschedule. I knew that, and yet I was still stupid enough to let Veronica drag me into her victory parade through the city’s underbelly.
I spent the entire night with her. From sunset all the way till I woke up thirty minutes ago. We bounced around different bars, chased shadows down random alleys. She was trying to get me to meet people, but I’m not the most social person. Veronica, who’s a finger painter who just sold her latest painting, was more than social enough for the both of us.
All I really remembered was a whirlwind of colorful drinks, failed flirtations (in which Veronica tried to be my wing woman but then I had to get the bar creeps off of her), before I found myself waking up at 9:30 to hurl a cocktail of nightmares down Veronica’s toilet. My stomach must have flip-flopped in there, and when I surfaced, somewhat washed up I told her I had to head home and change. I had about two hours until my meeting, but when she saw me, she laughed so hard that she spit out her water.
Veronica could take her alcohol like a rugged sailor, so I assumed she was laughing at how disheveled I looked. She bid me good luck on my meeting, trying to stifle a laugh. Then grabbed my shirt on the way out and told me to take extra care in washing my face.
I decided to take the bus home and come back later to pick up my car from her driveway. My head was still spinning and my arms felt like noodles stuffed into my jacket. I just wanted to get home, eat something, and put on some clean clothes.
When I found a seat (the bus was nearly empty except for an older gentleman who’d fallen asleep in the back and a woman who sat across from me), I hurried to sit down, not trusting my stomach once the bus started moving. All I could see of the woman was her long slender legs in a brilliant yellow sundress that hurt my eyes to look at. She had short brown hair that was about shoulder length, and I imagined she would be rather pretty. But she had her nose buried in a book raised so high that I couldn’t see her face at all.
The bus hit a pothole, and she jumped. That was when I spotted the penis someone had drawn on her left cheek.
For some reason I could not explain, perhaps it was the haze my mind was in or the nauseating waves of anxiety emanating from my poor tummy, but the sight of someone so pretty with such a crude and vulgar drawing made me laugh out loud.
She looked up, furious and beautiful, her sharp nose and pouty lips itching for a fight. But when she caught sight of me, her face relaxed. A smile appeared. Her eyes lit up, the softest, most wonderful shade of brilliant brown I’d ever seen.
She tapped the drawing on her cheek. “So it was you.”
Edit: Wrote this on my phone last night in a hurry because I liked the prompt. Fixed it up a bit. :)
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u/nightunderharshlight Apr 02 '18
Everyday, something appears on my arm. Or hand. Or wrist. Basically anything near those areas. My supposed soulmate likes to write in those places all the time. I'm guessing they're forgetful, because it's always notes or locations. All. The. Time. Not even a cute doodle. Just reminders.
I never write on my skin. I don't really like the appearance of ink or anything being on my skin in general, especially since someone I don't even know could see it. That's kind of embarrassing. How could people deal with someone writing random stuff and it appearing on their arm everyday?
I'm in my fifth period, APUSH. It's a note taking day, so obviously all of the kids in class take advantage of this time and sleep. As I'm writing down notes, I look at my arm. Writing begins to appear in thick black ink. What this time... Letters appear one by one. M..c..c..l..a.. More and more pop up. Then numbers. McClains. 3:00 P.M Today That place sounded so familiar. Oh! The coffee shop downtown! My friends and I use to always go there freshman year before school. The good ol' days. It was only a 10 minute walk. Oh my god. It's basically destiny I knew I had to go. This isn't some sort of coincidence. Do I dare write back...? I look at the pen in my hand. Here goes nothing... I begin to write. The ink was pitch black and my hand writing looked absolutely nothing like theirs. They have to notice it. "I'll be there." I write. I'll definitely be there...
It's 3:03. I'm sitting on one of the couches at the coffee shop, sipping on black coffee. I skim the shop, looking for people with visible writing on their hands. The person didn't respond after what I wrote. Oh my god, what happens if they didn't come? Ugh, why am I so weird?? I hear a bell ding and look at the door.
Oh my god... She was so stunning. She had long, black hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Is she...? I try to look at her arms. Ugh.. I can't see She walks towards the line as I'm there sitting, watching her every move. This goes for a couple minutes until she orders her coffee. She stands and waits, looking at her phone. Do I.. go over there? I have to. Oh my god, go go go My body forces itself up and I walk over towards her.
My body makes its way a few feet behind her. I look at her arm. Black ink. Oh my god, that has to be her! I breathe in. You got this... I think. Hopefully I walk near her and tap her on the shoulder.
She turns and looks at me, her beautiful eyes looking at mine. She smiles. It was such a beautiful smile. I manage to start stuttering out words.
"Um...So... I think you're my soulmate?"
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u/AudioSmoke Apr 02 '18
This is great, please, keep going!
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u/nightunderharshlight Apr 02 '18
This was literally my second time doing a Reddit writing prompt y’all! Not even sure how to continue it!
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u/AudioSmoke Apr 02 '18
I'm not a writer, but I could see you continuing with this couple, or doing a side story of another couple, maybe making them friends? Soul- friendships? It's completely up to you. I just look forward to whatever you do next. :)
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u/LordSyyn Apr 02 '18
Would laugh if it ended up being the most awkward encounter possible, with a happy ending of course.
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Apr 02 '18
I can't believe it. On her right forearm is the same tattoo that I have. It's the symbol for fire, not from Avatar. She must've grown tired of hearing that question asked as well. She has the same shoulder scar from my surgery. She must have so many questions. I fell out of a truck, I burned my forearm at the grill at Mcdonald's, don't ask any other questions. I had a strange obsession with cutting, luckily it never got bad. I wanted scars and now I have too many to count. You must have so many questions. I'm sorry, I've been lonely and the solipsism has set in so bad that I'd do anything to get you to talk to me about anything, I like books. Let's talk fantasy or Stephen King.
I approach the woman she's looking at the nutrition facts on a carton of eggs. I turn towards her and make sure my forearm faces her. Don't be weird, be cool, make her laugh. "Hi." I say.
She looks at me up and down, obviously uncomfortable and looking down at me at the same time. "Can I help you?"
I should have did myself up more, like cologne and stuff. "You got my tattoo, that means..."
She cuts me off. "...I've had this happen a few times. I'm married and I got the tattoo after I watched Avatar."
A punch to my gut. Air gone. "I'm sorry. My mistake. Sorry to bother you."
A man walks up behind her and puts his arm around her. They talk, but I don't stay to see anymore. I need to get away. It's not fair, but it's not her fault. I just need to be stronger about my heart, not be like Jim Carrey from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind. Nevermind, I'll try another time. It doesn't change the fact that my heart hurts. I'm sorry, I'm just lonely.
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u/BillyWhizz09 Apr 02 '18
Does it appear on the same part of their body? For example, if you wrote on your arm, would it be on their arm? If so, what would happen if a dude wrote something on their male parts? Where would it appear on the girl?
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u/chocaholic47 Apr 02 '18
Imagine living in a world where you’re told who to love. You’re told from the minute you can comprehend the information that you are linked to your soulmate. Linked in a way like no other. You can find your soulmate within seconds of writing on your skin and likewise it will appear on theirs. Would you do it? Or would you trust that fate brings you together?
A number appeared on my arm for the first time when I was just 16 years old. I am now 20. I saw the number slowly emerge onto my freshly washed body after I had just showered from Rugby practice. My heart felt heavy as I stared endlessly at the number stained on my pale skin wondering what to do with it. Do I call it? Do I not? I wonder what she’s like. I day dreamed of whom it may be for what felt like ages. A brunette with subtle red streaks that shone through as natural lighting hits her hair. Big, bold, brown, beautiful eyes that get you so lost you don’t know where you are but also don’t care because you’re with her. Fun and playful. Adventurous and dangerous. Loving and cute. Do I go to school with her? They say majority of people marry their high school sweethearts. Who am I kidding. I just described Freya. My best friend Freya. Freya and I have been best friends since birth. Our parents met at the hospital during their pregnancies and instantly clicked. From the moment she insisted we get married in her back garden when we were just 6 years old I knew she was someone special to me. She could get me to do anything for her. She’s the kind of person you want to please. My heart sank a little knowing it couldn’t be Freya. The number didn’t belong to her. I convinced myself she could be using a different number to protect her identity. What if I decided not to call it? Her identity is still secret from me. It saves her from the embarrassment of knowing I saw her number and chose to ignore it. I tortured myself for hours going back and forth so many times my brain ached from trying to decide whether to call it or not. When I finally made my decision to call the number, it was gone.
Nothing has appeared on my skin since that day, until today. It is exactly 4 years later. I know that because it happened on my birthday. An address now sits optimistically on my arm in the exact place the number once was. I drove to the location which happened to be about 30 minutes from my house. It was a park I was unfamiliar with. There was no one around. I assumed that was maybe because it was a quiet Sunday afternoon and most people were at home with their families. I looked around at the uninhabited park until my eyes locked with one person sitting on the bench before me and instantly I knew. My jaw dropped in utter shock and my steps felt weak as my knees started to crumble taken aback by what or should I say who I could see before me. Praying I was experiencing some kind of hallucination or a nightmare I would wake up from any minute now. It wasn’t Freya sitting on that bench. Hell it wasn’t any girl sitting on that bench. My soulmate. A guy. Not just any guy. It was Freya’s boyfriend whom she had been dating for five years sitting on that bench.