My eighteenth birthday, one of the most important birthdays I’m going to have. The day I get my soulmate tattoo (soulmark) When I awoke in the early morning darkness I wasn’t quite worried about who it would be. But once I felt a sharp pain on my wrist, I started to get anxious. What if my soulmate wasn’t who I wanted? What if he was some fuckboy? What if he doesn’t like me? All these thoughts crossed my mind until my arm felt numb. I was too scared to look. I’ve always wanted to know who my soulmate is but I don’t think I’m ready to know. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to know who I’m destined tonlive out the remainder of my life with. After an eternity of procrastinating, I decided it was time. I closed my eyes brought my wrist up to my face and counted to ten. Once I opened my eyes I was shocked.
I read the name over and over again, thinking that there must be some sort of mistake. I can’t be a lesbian. Head cheerleaders couldn’t be gay, it was simply impossible.
But that name on my wrist was familiar to me. The cute edgy bad girl rapper chick Dani was what she went by, but I’ve heard some cheerleaders refer to her as Danielle Bregoli. Dani couldn’t be my soulmate she was too, edgy for my own good. She was a rapper, she had a small SoundCloud page that I’ve listened to a few times. Not intentionally though, and definitely not because I thought she looked cute. There was no way I’m gay. And plus Dani isn’t 18 yet I have a month. But what would Dani do if she found out I’m her soul mate, would she ignore it.
I just hope that Danielle Bregoli from my school isn’t my soul mate and it’s some guy named Danielle instead, like that would happen. But a girl could dream. I mean do same sex soul mates even exist?
I couldn’t keep thinking like this without real answers. So I decided to google same sex soulmates, just to make sure I wasn’t alone.
I found a lot of stories and articles about same sex soulmates. It turns out they do exist but very few have them. I guess I’m one of the lucky few then. I spent all morning researching, up until my pink Claire’s Justin Bieber alarm clock started to sound.
I got up out of my very pink bed that had my name all over it. I went to my closet. I looked through it and ultimately decided on a purple and red bow a yellow scrunchie, hair jell. I also grabbed a cupcake Claire’s inspired Gucci skirt, my jojo siwa Chanel yellow bomber jacket and my pink cheerleading t-shirt.
I got dressed as fast as I could. I made sure to put a lot of concealer on my tatto and made sure my jacket covered it entirely.
Once I was done I grabbed my neon pink louis vuitton backpack that had my name on it, I stomped on it and threw a tantrum my back pack made me feel utterly poor. I felt like I was living in poverty, I want neon coral not pink. Then I ran to the kitchen to grab a granola bar, somehow managed to avoid mother and father. And ran into the garage to drive my 2018 rolled Royce pink siwa edition luxury vehicle.
Once I entered my car I threw my 600,000 dollar louis vuitton bag on the passenger side and turned on my car. My ears where instantly welcomed by my new song high top shoes. Which has hit number one on the billboard top 100 in just a week. It was hard being an icon like me. I mean my hairline was receding, my soulmate is a girl, and I only had one rolls Royce, a lambo, a Ferrari, and a cheap Tesla. My life is so hard.
I drove all the way to school dreading all the questions I was going to get about my golden birthday.