Short Stories (for the lover's soul)

The Mark.

In a world where the eyes are truly the window to one's soul, everyone has a different eye color- except, that is, those who happen to be soulmates.

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Brynn was tired of waiting for the bus. The rose-eyed man and his paranoid soulmate were constantly giving her the stink-eye; as if she could possibly be a threat, standing at a measly height of 5'4 with hardly any muscle to her curved figure.

She averted her own dissimilar hazel eyes- a rarity. Only the first soulmates paired had held the infamous shade of hazel that was Brynn's eyes. Such a simple color in the rainbow of different shades that paired people together.

She supposed that was why the couple was so leery of her.

If being on time to her destination wasn't as important as it was today, she might've returned home to await the next bus, but this meeting was mandatory.

Each year, around mid-summer, every male and female of 15-18 years was required to travel to the city center to receive a speech from the mayor on soulmates, and to chance meeting their own.

To Brynn, it was nothing but a lackluster jumble of nonsense to fall asleep to, along with an hour of standing in shaded corners or hiding in the women's toilet to avoid social interaction.

The few girls that considered themselves to be her friends were always so excited at this event, buzzing around and intensely sharing gazes with boys and girls across the hall.

Some of them had met their matches through the years, but others still buzzed with the excitement of not knowing.

Brynn personally believed it to be a horribly quick and irrational act of commitment at such a young age. She would rather find her soulmate at the riper age of 20-something, when she was ready to get comfortable and perhaps start a family. In the moment, she only wanted to live.

She was drawn out of her thoughts as the bus finally pulled up to its stop, the aging brakes screeching in protest at the abrupt slow in velocity.

The public transportation in Miltako city wasn't the best, but it was functional.

Brynn sighed as she filed into a line behind the rose-eyed soulmates, fishing her bus card out of her pocket as the line moved closer to the doors.

She flashed the card to the driver as she finally stepped onto the stuffy vehicle, shuffling through people to find an available seat squished against a heavy-weight, pig-faced man with piss-yellow eyes.

It was an uncomfortable journey, to say the least.

Her first breath of fresh air after escaping the bus's overheated confines was a welcome from the gods. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to cherish her freedom, until an elbow to the side by an impatient fellow passenger shook her out of her reverie.

"Well then," she muttered, staring up at the ominous gray city hall before her, "let's get this party started."

...

It didn't take long to find the hall where the youth banquet was being held. Teens around the required age hovered outside of the doors or just inside the room, chatting excitedly and inspecting newcomers with visible anticipation.

The room was a grand hall, with big, mahogany doors to contrast the dull, lifeless interior, which was currently filled with white-clothed round tables and their accompanying sets of chairs.

Bypassing the social crowds, Brynn shuffled through arms and elbows to reach a table in the farthest, emptiest corner of the large room.

She plopped into her chair with a heavy sigh, relieved at the silence and lack of scrutiny in her little corner; but her peace was broken by an unfamiliar voice.