Red Thread

Twilight Sparkle laid on her back in her bed, her dark hair splayed out across the similarly dark bedspread beneath her. She stared up at the pinkie that she was holding extended out in front of her face, a quizzical look painting her features. The clock on her nightstand slowly crept along through the slow ooze of time that Twilight was pretty sure did not exist considering the scientific evidence backing it up was shaky at best.

It was almost her birthday. By her count she had been alive for sixteen years, eleven months, thirty days, twenty-three hours, fifty-eight minutes and some amount of seconds that she was too bothered to count. As soon as it all rolled over to hit seventeen, Twilight wanted to be looking at her pinkie.

It had been explained to her, like many children, that the second she turned seventeen years old, her soul would have connected with someone else’s. Her soulmate. They would be bound together by a little thread of red, the very embodiment of the two souls touching one another and coming together. Twilight had been sold this idea her whole life, all sixteen years, eleven months, thirty days… and the rest. Her brother had gotten his string and found out it had connected to Twilight’s old babysitter. Her parents had found each other by following their threads and finding each other at a science convention. Every successful couple Twilight knew had met from their threads.

Twilight was worried that she might not get hers. She was determined to stay up as long as it took to see that red thread appear on her left pinkie. She had asked her parents over a thousand times exactly what time she was born (4:38 am on a Tuesday) just so that she was absolutely positive when it should up. Twilight stole a quick glance at her clock, accurate to the second as it ticked on.

4:37:56

Twilight quickly spun her head back to her finger, holding her breath as she dared not blink, hoping beyond hope that she does not miss this moment when her life turns around. She silently wondered what her soulmate was like. But she was not worried about some things that she was sure other people worried about.

She did not care if her soulmate was good looking or not, although it would be a bonus if they had nice hair. She was not really concerned about political affiliations. Not social standings or what kind of job they had. No, Twilight, in those brief four seconds, was worried that her soulmate would not like chocolate chip ice cream. What would they share on movie nights? What if her soulmate liked action movies and absolutely refused to watch a romantic-comedy or a science fiction or a documentary? What if her soulmate slept with their socks on, or if they were the little spoon? Granted, Twilight had never spooned with someone before, but she always pictured herself in the embrace of the one she loved, not the other way around.

Twilight stared at her pinkie. It felt a lot longer than four seconds to her. But as soon as the clock clicked over to 4:38, sure enough, a warmth spread across Twilight’s finger as a red string seemed to appear out of thin air, already tied snug around her little finger. Twilight let out a small gasp and her worries seemed to disappear into the night, just like how the thread shot straight through her window pane. Her soul chose the soul of her soulmate. That’s how it worked, supposedly. Twilight’s soul would never pick the soul of someone she would not get along with as her soulmate. That would be ridiculous.

Turning her finger over slowly, Twilight examined the thread from every angle she could. A small “Wow,” escaped her lips as she looked up at the knot. It was so light it was easy to forget it was there. But right now, it would be impossible for her to forget it. This string was a part of her now. Her soul manifested for only two people to see. Only the people at the end of the soul threads can see it, otherwise the world would be wrapped in the color red.

The bed creaked as she lifted herself to her knees, kneeling in front of her window and letting the cool breeze roll in as the soft hum of life outside greeted her. Twilight slowly lifted her hand and stuck her pinkie straight out, watching the string loop and dip around and below the houses and cars of her neighborhood.

“Somewhere out there,” She muttered to herself, “You’re somewhere right out there.” Twilight smiled and wrapped the string around her finger once, briefly tugging on it and watching the string ripple and wave with the pulse she sent out towards her soulmate. It was not long at all before another ripple came pulsing towards her, causing the knot on her finger to dance briefly as if in a strong gust of wind.

It felt like getting hugged by someone after a long day of work. Contentment. Happiness. Gratitude. But there was something else to the pulse that quaked up Twilight’s finger. Her brain could not quite interpret it in words, it was more of a feeling. It was a little bit haughty and teasing. A little bit of impatience muddled with a sense of joy. These feelings were hard to put into words, but if Twilight had to write them down, she would have to say something like: “Took you long enough.”

Twilight smiled and sighed softly. She needed some sleep. And now that she was certain that her soulmate was out there, they actually existed, she felt relaxed. She could rest now. She was a little antsy, ready to go out and meet them right away, but she knew she would need her energy for that. And for that, she must sleep.

Closing the window, Twilight yawned and stretched. She climbed under her covers and curled up in a small ball, a smile on her face as she looked at the little red string curling out of her sheets and up to her window. She fell asleep looking at the little cord that now connected her to another person like never before.

A warm tug pulled on the little finger of my left hand. I jolted awake, sitting bolt upright in my bed. Staring down at my hand, I wondered if I had imagined the feeling from a dream. No, that felt too real to be a dream.

A feeling of wonder, amazement, happiness flowed up my body, originating in my pinkie where my soul attached to my hand. The red string that looped from within to without, pointing me to my soulmate. I quickly opened up my window, checking out to see as the string I now know so familiarly trailed out across rooftops and backyards.

I smile and wrap the string around my hand, giving a firm tug back in response to what I was given. I had my string for a few months now and every night I would do this same thing, just to see if my soulmate was out there yet. And now, they were. Someone out there had just had a similar experience to what I did when I turned seventeen.

The cool night air briefly tickled my face as the thought brought peace to my heart. It was a strange feeling to know you were destined to be with someone, but at the same time, once your thread knotted itself to your finger, there was something there that was indescribable. A sense of attachment, not just to yourself, or even your soulmate, but to the world itself. It was as if it was a testament to being alive. You might have thought you were right where you belonged your whole life, and maybe you were right. But once that string ties itself off between two people, everything else you experienced paled in comparison to what the world was like now.

Once you turned seventeen, it wasn’t just you alone in the world anymore. You were two people. One at each end of the line of your souls.

I shut my window and laid back on my bed, checking the clock. It was barely past 4:30 in the morning. Usually I would hate to miss out on my sleep, but for such an important event, I’ll make an exception.

“Happy birthday, whoever you are.”