Every Wednesday night they would go volunteer their time at the children's ward of the county hospital. I typically went with them most Wednesday nights, but the night of the accident I had to study for three separate finals. Unfortunately that night they got out later than expected and ended up in the direct path of a drunk driver who had careened right through a red light.
I remember when they pulled me aside a few months earlier to tell me how they were saving specifically to be able to pay for the serum come my 18th birthday. The serum isn't cheap, and my parents weren't wealthy. They were financially stable enough to keep us in a small rental home with every amenity for us to be able to live a comfortable life . They chose to save for the serum because I was their princess and had been dreaming of my prince, well soulmate, since I was about four or five.
After their deaths the money they had saved ended up going to their funeral expenses instead. Because I was still technically underaged I became a ward of the state. My foster mom was really nice, and the other foster kids were decent and mostly well behaved. However, that didn't stop me from looking for a part time job so I could start saving up so that I would be ready to move out on my own once I was out of school.
There weren't many job opportunities in Flora, Indiana so I moved to Chicago after high school. I have worked my ass off at two part time jobs ever since. I keep two jars on my kitchen counter. One to collect any spare change I had aside from quarters (those I reserved for laundry). I would take that jar to a nearby CoinStar once a month. The amount I got back would go into the other jar. That jar also held about 70% of the tips I made everyday. I make a weekly trip to the bank to deposit that amount in a bank account I had set up specifically to save for my serum injection. Two days ago I closed that account and deposited those funds into my main account; since I intentionally don't have a bank card for that account.
The doctor walks in and introduces himself. He smiles at me saying I must be excited then goes through a brief explanation about the serum. Stuff I'm sure that he is quite aware that I already know of, but probably has to mention since it's part of his job. "Do you have any questions, Daisy?"
"I think I read that it isn't recommended to go into somnium venereum until the serum has been in your system for at least two hours. Is that accurate?" I honestly already know the answer. I researched it enough times over the past five years. I just don't like answering a question with 'no' often unless I truly don't have an answer. Plus, it makes good practice for when a customer asks me a question at either the cafe or the diner.
The doctor confirms that yes it is accurate and goes on a long tangent filled with medical terms that I try my best to nod appropriately at. In truth, I am sure I only hear every third word. Perhaps, I should have said no in this case after all.
Of course when I leave the clinic it has stopped raining. I would take the bus to get home, but I have nowhere that I have to rush off to today. Plus, I have two hours to kill. So, despite the chill in the air I quickly decide to walk the ten blocks back to my dingy apartment.
Pleasant aromas from a nearby bakery infiltrate my senses when I have already walked about halfway home. Typically I stay away from most carbs, but between my good mood and the smell I simply can't bring myself to care much about cheating on my pseudo diet.
Two buttery croissants, a caramel cappuccino, and five blocks later I arrive at my apartment. I try my best not to grimace when I open the door. I've never cared much for this apartment. It's small, and the walls are paper thin. Luckily the neighborhood isn't terrible, and the rent is relatively cheap. That was the purpose of finding a studio apartment after all. To keep the cost as cheap as possible.
I have to do my damndest to not think about the serum running through my veins and my soulmate. I could too easily go into somnium venereum without intending to. So, instead I sit down on my second hand couch and I click on the icon for Netflix. My library list is extensive so I scroll to one of the many original movies I had been meaning to watch that I just never got around to. Luckily, I get quickly absorbed into the storyline and only think about the serum running in my veins again when the credits begin to roll.
Somnium venereum is easy enough to accomplish. Despite the fancy latin name, which means romantic dream, I simply have to focus on who my soulmate might be. Just focus on the idea of my soulmate and wanting to be a part of his life as much as he will be a part of mine. I read that the mark can feel like a bee sting so I prepare myself to feel that tiny pinch of pain. When suddenly I am instead feeling several stings of pain nearly all over my body.
The first is dancing along my left arm. The second skids across my chest, on the right side, just underneath my collarbone. The third skitters down my spine. The fourth radiates against my left shoulder blade. The fifth tingles down the outside of my right leg. The sixth slithers from my left hand side to the outer edge of my ribcage. The seventh stings across the top of my foot. Then the pain abruptly stops. Seven? I have seven soulmates?
I glance at the first I registered. The one on my arm. It's a word written in a curving font. Serendipity. I go to my bathroom, pull down the collar of my shirt to view the second. Once again another word. Euphoria. I continue investigating my body to find they are all words or short phrases. (It took some creative mirror maneuvering to read the two located on my back.) Besides Serendipity and Euphoria I also find 4 O'clock, Just Dance, First Love, Epiphany, and Reflection.
I drop to my mattress. I never thought I would be one of those women that had more than one soulmate. I don't remember much about the illness that spread rapidly ten years ago. I only really knew that it took the lives of a quarter of the female population, but I did catch a couple of news reports talking about the fact that evolution seemed to be doing it's best to repair that loss by a handful of women ending up with more than one soulmate. I'll never be at peace completely with my parents passing, but since I have seven soulmates I am kind of thankful that I couldn't get the serum injection the minute I turned 18 after all. I am sure I wouldn't have been remotely mentally prepared for seven soulmates at the time. Hell, I was kind of reeling at the idea right now.
I mentally contemplated on who the seven parts of my heart and soul could be. I knew that it would never pair me with people that were incapable of getting along. In fact I think I heard somewhere in the midst of those same news reports I happened to catch that many times where a woman ended up with multiple soulmates most times those soulmates were either already best friends, practically family really, or if not they became such. So, that at least wasn't something I had to worry about.
I almost wish in addition to the serum creating soulmate marks on my body that they could triangulate where and when I would find them. I might accept that I wouldn't have been ready for seven soulmates when I turned 18, but I wasn't the only one in this relationship, well future relationship. They also had to wait for me. Which I couldn't help but let that thought strike a slight trickle of fear to settle over me. What if it had been so long that they would never consider calling on somnium venereum again?
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Encoded in our DNA (A BTS Reverse Harem x OC story)
FanfictionThe year someone turns 18 they have the opportunity to be injected with a serum that will produce a soulmate mark somewhere on their body. This serum is costly and the procedure to get the injection is not covered by insurance. A rare illness cropp...
Chapter 1
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