Fiction On Odyssey: Soulmate's Doodles (Part Three)

Fiction On Odyssey: Soulmate's Doodles (Part Three)

"'You're crying on my face.' 'Sorry.'" V1 and her friends manage to escape...
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Find part one here and part two here .


J3 is dying.

L5, P6 and I all know it. Maybe deep down, she knows it, too. The problem is, we don't know what to do about it.

It's weird; I know I should be feeling something, but all I can do is stare at the wet, red circle that's been steadily growing on her side. The leaves and grass underneath have become stained with blood in the past few hours. This is one thing Teacher hadn't taught us about – how to stop someone from dying. We know what death is. We know what blood is, we know what a weapon supposedly is and what Doctors do. But we have no idea how to keep this "life liquid" in your body, or how to stop it from hurting or what to do about the tiny little hole that just keeps bleeding and bleeding in odd little spurts...

The sounds of P6 retching in the distance echoes slightly. In my head, Teacher's voice drones on about sound waves bouncing off objects to create different sounds.

J3 shifts, and I stroke her hair. Her head rolls on my lap, staring upward.

"The moon is so weird," she murmurs quietly.

"Yeah," I respond with a half laugh. "It is pretty weird."

After all, what could be weirder than a big hunk of shiny rock in the sky? None of us have ever actually seen the sky before. I remember teacher explaining the moon and sky and stars at some point. The facility has no windows, so we could never actually see them, but we were told what they looked like. It's just one of the things that faded from my memory a bit since we talked about it once and never mentioned it again.

I notice a wet drop of water on J3's cheek. Her nose crinkles at the feeling. When another drop of water appears not far from the first, I realize they're tears – my tears. I'm crying on her face. Strange. When did that start? Why don't I feel anything?

"You're crying on my face."

"Sorry."

"Sorry." She laughs, but just as quickly as it appears, her smile fades. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry to my soulmate."


The escape went badly. The original plan, simply put, was for me, J3 and two other friends to slip out with the help of the new Doctor in between guard shift rotations. In reality, it involved a complicated series of exact timing periods of running and hiding.

All it took was P6 and his friends to screw it up.

In P6's defense, all he wanted was to "mess with us" a little. He hadn't realized we were genuinely trying to escape. He thought we were sneaking out to get food or something. L5 just went along with it because his friends were going, and he didn't want to get left behind. But K5 knew better. He let a guard know what was going on. I remember him grabbing R4, one of the others we were supposed to escape with. Doctor didn't let me or J3 stay to help her, and as we ran down the hallway with P6 and L5, I looked back.

Teacher had never explained to us what the long black things the guards carried around were for. She just said they were "weapons." All we knew about weapons was that they were supposed to protect people.

"Look! I caught one!" K5 had said over the sound of R4's screams.

Two of the guards raised their sticks. There were four or five loud bangs. R4's cries stopped, and she and K5 had fallen bonelessly to the ground.

I'd never known that blood was so red.

The seconds that had passed as Doctor tried to get his keycard to open the elevator were excruciating. The doors opened just as the guards came around the corner, with more bangs echoing. I heard J3 grunt. Then the other guy with us, O2, had suddenly gasped and grabbed his shoulder. A dark spot appeared on his forehead, and then he fell, too. Doctor didn't get in the elevator with us. Instead, he just smiled at us, turned and stood in front of the doors as they were closing. He held his hands out, and his body jerked with each of the bangs.


"I'll never meet my soulmate. I'll never know what they look like. I'll never get to hug them. I'll never get to kiss them."

"Would you shut her up?!" P6 cries.

My first instinct is fury; how dare he say something like that?

The look on his face is not mean, though; he's scared. J3 is scaring him, and for once, he doesn't know what to do.

L5, though, doesn't see what I see. This entire time, he's been leaning his back against a nearby tree, his body curled up into a loose ball. At P6's words, he shifts and aims a savage kick at P6's calf. P6 yells.

Then the barking starts.


This place scares me. It looks like the facility. The nice man said it was a hospital, so hopefully they can fix J3.

I'm sitting in a very uncomfortable chair and stare at my red-stained hands. A lump slowly grows in my throat, and it feels like I'm choking. Craving a hug, I turn to spontaneously embrace J3's shorter frame with my own, but I then remember:

My best friend is dying.

I might never hug her again. The emotions I somehow managed to block out for such a long time are finally threatening to overwhelm me. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. We're supposed to make it out together, and we're supposed to hunt down each other's soulmates together. She can't die now; it's not fair.

I rock silently in my seat, wrapping my arms around myself. I know I'm probably freaking out P6, L5 and whomever else might be around, but I don't care. Then I feel the familiar tingling in my hand, which means it's my soulmate. It's on the back of my hand. I stare rapturously at it, watching as lines appear. These aren't his normal Markings, his letters. This is a picture... but of what?


Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Image Credit: Shutterstock

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To the guy that shot my brother...

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To the guy that shot my brother,

On January 9, 2019 my families entire life changed with one phone call. The phone call that my little brother had been shot in the face, no other details. We didn't need any other details. The woman on the phone who called us in full panic told us where he was so we went, as soon as possible. I don't think it helped that not even 10 min prior I talked to Zach on the phone.. kind of irritated with him, and the ONE TIME I didn't say 'I love you' as we hung up. Could've been the last time we ever spoke.. I remember pulling up to the hospital thinking 'this can't be real' 'it's not our Zach' 'this is just a dream Sarah, WAKE UP' I'd close my eyes really tight just to open them, I was still in the hospital emergency parking lot. I could still hear the ambulance sirens coming. It was all real.

The day our life's changed was definitely a test of faith. A test of how strong we were, as a family. I sat in that waiting room ready to see the damage that has been done to my sweet baby brother. Because at that point we had no idea how lucky he got. That glimpse of seeing Zach will haunt me forever. How helpless I felt in that exact moment frequently wakes me up from these horrific dreams I've been having ever since that day. That is a moment burned into my me and families brain forever.

You always hear about these things in the movies or on the news, a house being shot up, someone shooting another innocent person, not to care if they died on your watch. But we found ourselves on the news.. We have been confined to the hospital since that day. Running on barely any sleep, taking shifts of sleep so we don't make ourselves sick taking care of Zach. Watching him suffer. Undergoing surgeries, to repair the damage you did.

Before I proceed let me tell you a little something about the man you shot.

Zachary Keith Wright. A blonde hair blue eyed boy. Who could potentially be the most annoying human on the planet (possibly coming from his sister). A man who loves his God first, loves his family second. Perfect by no means, but almost perfect to me. A 19 year old who was to graduate high school this month. After graduation he was prepping to leave for Marine boot camp in the summer.. being in the military has been Zach's dream since he could talk. Literally. Running around, playing war with underwear on our heads, and finger guns. Some would say we looked like natural born assassins.. growing up he has been a country boy. Let me tell ya country to the core. He loves this country like he loves his family. He believes in helping people, taking charge in what's right, and never leaving a brother behind. He's lived by that his whole life. Until now....

The day you shot him. The day not only did you change my brothers life, you changed his families life too. The day you almost ripped my brother out of this world... for what? A misunderstanding? Because you've let something take ahold of your life that you can't let go you're willing to kill someone innocent over? Luckily for him, his guardian angels were protecting him in your time of cowardice. There were 3 times that day he should've died, the time you shot him, the time you tried to shoot him again as he stared you directly in the face, (even tho he couldn't talk I know you could read his eyes, and he still intimidated you. That's why you tried to pull the trigger again) and the time he was running out of the house. But he lived. A man who was shot in the face, didn't lay there helpless, didn't scream in agony. That MAN walked to the neighbors to get help. Why? Because he's a MAN, and because he's on this earth for a reason.

It's gonna sound a little strange not only to you, but the audience who is reading this. I must say thank you. Even in this situation, this was the best outcome we could get. He gets to live. He will make a full recovery. He will graduate. And he will go off into the Marines. You united my family together. Closer than ever. Thank you. You tested our faith and brought us closer to our God. Thank you. Because of your moment of weakness, you showed us what prayer could do. Heal anything. Thank you. This was a bump in the road, and a helluva way to kick off our year of 2019. But here we are.. all laying in the hospital. I'm looking around as mom is sleeping in her recliner chair exhasted but still here, Zach his awake playing his xbox all hooked up to machines, fighting to heal and get better. And of course I'm writing this letter to you.

See you in trial,

From the girl whose brother you shot.

'Fight the good fight' - 1 Tim 6:12 🤟🏼💙

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5 Ways You Can Stop Producing so Much Trash

We produce a lot more trash than you think, until you start paying attention to your actions.

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One of my major goals this year is to do more to save the planet as well as animals. I have already been vegetarian for three years. and I'm plan to stay vegetarian, but I want to have a more plant based diet. As well, I want to start reducing the amount of trash I produce. Not only because I realize just how drastically our trash is affecting wildlife, but also because I think having to take out your trash twice a week is way too much trash!

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This is another huge mistake of mine! I hate doing dishes, so I try to buy paper plates to make less dishes, but in the end I'm producing more and more trash! I'm convinced the reason I have to take out my trash so often is because I eat so much! It's time to be a big girl now and start washing my dishes...or start using my dish washer

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