#but i still subconsciously “catalogue” my emotions in case i need to reference them

[thewritingfox]

Soulmates- Prologue part 2

Within the first week of Virgil’s fifth grade year there was the lesson on soulmates, delivered around the country at the same time. The teacher described it as “you and your soulmate will have a physical, emotional, and spiritual connection. Often times you may find yourself finding people who resemble your actual soulmate attractive. Each and every single human being has a different soulmark, and at birth they are catalogued so if certain people are having particular issues finding their soulmate, or for some other reason, they’ll have a place to start looking. As it is, any physical changes to your body they will experience. For you girls or drama students that means any makeup you wear can appear on their skin, any of you who doodle on yourselves may cause it to show up on their skin. If you get a cut or a scratch or break a bone… “Virgil subconsciously rubbed the spot on his arm where he remembered being in extreme anguish just a few years ago. “...they’ll feel you pain, though it won’t break their bone and it may not scratch them up. If something causes you to feel extreme emotions, they’ll be able to feel it too. It is most common, though exceptions aren’t uncommon, that when one soulmate dies, the other will as well. There have also been RARE cases where someone has more than one soulmate, though it is very rare.” All the other students were abuzz in the class and no one could stop fidgeting. Curiosity got the better of Virgil and he rolled up his sleeve to see the other’s had already started talking to each other.

Hi! My name is Pat! A light blue glitter pen wrote

Greetings Pat, I’m Ro! A dark red scrawl responded

Salutations both of you, I’m Logan. A standard dark blue pen

Wow! I didn’t think that this would work! Pat wrote.

So, who was the one that got hurt two years ago? Ro asked curiously

Oh that was me! I broke my arm climbing a tree to get my cat. Patton scribbled

Not to be rude or anything, but isn’t there supposed to be one more of us? Virgil watched as the one named Logan circled a spot on the bottom of where the symbols formed an almost diamond. He assumed it was in reference to him

Hi… Virgil...That’s all Virgil could muster in his purple pen before the prying eyes started to notice something odd about the shy new kid. Virgil shily rolled his sleeve back down, praying no one saw and that it would be ignored. But sadly he wasn’t so lucky. At recess that day some kids pulled him off the swing he was on and rolled up his sleeve

“Oh my gods! You have THREE soulmates?! Oh gods what a freak!!” Four kids gathered around him and started shoving him about, some even started hitting him. They didn’t even know his name yet! At the last second, one of the bullies jumped out of the way of catching him, causing him to fall and hit his head on the metal pole of the swings. Virgil’s vision went blurry for a moment and he struggled to stand up.

“P-please s-stop this.” He said barely above a whisper. One of the kids punched him and gave him a black eye. More fists would’ve followed, but the teacher called everyone inside to get back to class, and he walked over to her in a dizzy daze. It didn’t stop there. When the teacher wasn’t looking, the kids through paper balls at him with nasty messages written inside. Tears pricked at Virgil’s eyes but he refused to let them fall.

When he got home Miss Cici almost dropped the tray of medicine in her hands. “Oh my goodness! Virgil, what happened?!”

“S-some kids a-at school f-found out a-about my s-s-soulmates a-and th-they b-beat me u-up.” Virgil stuttered through tears. “Th-they p-pushed me around a-and made me fall a-and I h-hit my h-head on the p-pole for the s-swings. Th-then wh-when I asked them to st-stop one of them p-punched me.” Miss Cici wrapped her arms around the sobbing little boy.

“Okay Virgil, come with me into the kitchen, I don’t like that stutter one bit. It my mean you have a concussion.” She steered Virgil into the kitchen and sat him down on a chair and got to work tending to his injuries. She did a small concussion test and concluded he needed to see a doctor as soon as possible. Miss Cici, told Aunt Mabel that she was going to go run a few errands and she was going to bring Virgil with her to help out.

At the hospital it was confirmed that Virgil did indeed have a concussion and they weren’t sure how long the stuttering would last. They told Miss Cici to keep a close eye on him and to just give his brain time to recover. They gave him some pain medicine and sent him home. Miss Cici called her boss and told them that she’d be spending a few nights at the house to help the little boy with a concussion and that they could still clock her out at the regular time. When she finished that Miss Cici called the school to inform them of what happened. They said that they’d have the teacher collect notes and assignments for him for when he got better and that when he got back, they’d ask him about the students so that they could properly be punished.

Virgil spent three weeks at home doing almost nothing and he hated it. He felt so fidgety but Miss Cici wouldn’t let him do much of anything. She took good care of him though and he recovered half way through, but she wanted to make ABSOLUTELY sure. Virgil appreciated the break, but still had a mild stutter he didn’t want others to know about, so when he went back to school he avoided talking as much as he could. He drew out very detailed sketches of the kids that had started the bullying and they were suspended from school, but by then it was too late and the other kids started bullying him. Virgil worked hard to avoid them. Now at recess he sat near the teachers and read. In the cafeteria he sat as far from everyone else as he could. He spent his free time drawing and painting like he used to do with his mother.

He often looked at the photos of his mothers in the lockets. He wished so badly that he could talk to them. He ended up painting portraits of them which he showed to Aunt Mabel, which almost made her cry. She said they were lovely and hung them up above the fireplace on either side of a portrait of a young her and a man who must’ve been Uncle William. They all looked so happy. Virgil wondered if Aunt Mabel had just made empty threats, that she did really care about him, but was just scared of losing someone else she loved. He wondered if that’s why she always drank, but Virgil didn’t dare to ask.

Author’s Note: Thank y’all SO MUCH for the positive feed back, in less than 24hrs on my simple little story! Oh my lord it made me cry when I woke up to find even a few people who liked the story, I was SO happy! especially since I’m doing almost no editing at all (literally just fixing spelling mistakes and any grammar mistakes I spot)! I am so happy! Thank y’all a TON! I promise, I’ll have not prologue up soon

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