Chapter 1

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Picture of Kenny Wormald as Wyatt Elliot ;)

I am also trying new things as of now because why not? :D
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He remembers the first bruise from his other half.

    He was sixteen years old. He and his troubled high school friends were hanging around the skate park in the chilly December night. They laughed, drank, smoked and talked about chicks like it was nobody's business. He sat and watched as his older friends made fools of themselves, daring each other to do stupid risky stuff like rob Mr. Porter's bakery and steal some sweets or wake up an entire neighbor without getting caught by the cops. Like always, stupid risky stuff.

He took part in it, usually, when he was dared to because he could never turn down a dare no matter how dangerous it was. Hell, everyone was convinced that his middle name was danger. He liked being top dog, even if he was younger than the rest of his eighteen-year-old friends. They liked that he had guts and could impressively handle his liquor far better than most of the seniors.

His image was tough and intimidating. Nobody would believe him if he were to say he cared for his significant other. His mother first told him about soulmates when he was ten and very open minded. Everybody gets a soulmate in this world; someone whom you will love, marry and cherish until death do you apart. He was ecstatic at the thought of his soulmate somewhere in the world thinking of him and waiting for him when the time was to come.

The thing is, when you find your soulmate. . . you see color. Before that, everything is black and white. And way before you meet your soulmate, you experience injuries that come out of the blue, mixed emotions that make you think you're bipolar and of course the visions. The visions. He wanted so badly to see through the eyes of his beloved. He was already attached to her and there was no one who could make him think otherwise.

His first bruise wasn't painful at all. He expected it to hurt like a bitch, but he was completely wrong. He was sat on a railing, watching his buddies talk about the poor geeky boy in math class. He was sort of spacing out, cigarette hanging from his lips as he watched the sunset. For a second, he wondered if his other half could possibly be staring at the same sunset as him. He quickly let go of the silly thought, though.

"Bro, shit, when'd you get that nasty bugger?" His friend yelled atop everyone talking at the moment. He followed the voice and realized Rick was staring at him with raised eyebrows.

"What're you talkin' about?" He replied with a shrug and the shake of his head. Rick pointed to his leg and he followed the finger down to his leg. "Fuck!" He cursed out loud when he saw a nasty black scar that ran all across his knee cap.

"Wifey in trouble, eh?" He glared at Rick and for the rest of the night he was worried sick about her.

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What do ya think? :)

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