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The Soulmate Song

Listen for the music

By Gabbie SpeirsPublished 4 months ago 4 min read
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The Soulmate Song
Photo by Marius Masalar on Unsplash

When we are born, the universe assigns us a soulmate. The only way to find our soulmates is to sing the same song as each other. Only the two of you can hear each other sing or hum it. The music isn't always instant, the moment you meet someone; sometimes it can take a little time to become apparent to each other. But, to others it just sounds like static coming out of the persons mouth.

Everybody in the world knows about the songs. They say the average waiting time to find your soulmate is 35-40 years.

I, however, only had to wait fifteen.

I was fast asleep in my bedroom, tucked up under my cactus duvet, hugging my favourite teddy, Mr Bear. I was dreaming of unicorns and gargoyles, snow and blood, good and evil. I woke to hear a soft rustling noise downstairs, so I thought I would have a look. My dad usually gets up in the middle of the night to get some water and have a smoke, so I thought it was just him. Or my mum, who sometimes makes a herbal tea to help her sleep. But no; it wasn’t my parents.

It was a burglar.

I hid behind the tall oak cabinet in the living room while I saw, through a mirror hanging on the opposite side of the room, the person going through the draws and cupboards for items of value. The person I saw looked like a boy, not that much older than me, 18 at most. He had a vast amount of freckles, mousey-blonde hair, pale skin and very tall. He was so focused on rifling through our belongings he had no clue I was stood watching. I knew if he caught me, I could get hurt. But, if he didn’t then I could identify him for the police.

I stayed still and quiet, watching. He kept moving around the kitchen, until he had been through everything in there. Then, he made his way in to the living room. Closer to where I stood, panic-stricken. I ducked behind the cabinet, trying to think of where I could hide where he wouldn’t find me. The door to upstairs was still open wide enough, so I slowly crept backwards hoping I wouldn’t get caught.

I made it about halfway through the door when I heard cars outside, then sirens. The only thing I could think was that he could get away, so my first instinct was to jump on him and keep him here longer so he wouldn’t escape. I landed on his back and his knees must have buckled by the surprise because we ended up in a pile on the floor. He didn't look at me, but I knew his face would be all scrunched up in annoyance. I tried with all of my might (that a nerdy fifteen year old that didn't have much muscle could have) to keep him on the floor until the police came in, but it clearly wasn't enough as he managed to escape by pushing his hands into my ribcage.

Just as he ran out the room towards the back door, my parents came almost flying down the stairs to make sure everything was okay. It seems as though the sirens had woken them up. “I’m fine guys! Honestly!” I kept saying.

I checked out the front window to see if they had caught him, when I saw a police officer approaching the house. Dad opened the door, greeting the woman and letting her in. I told her what I saw, and she asked if I could identify the person who broke in as they have made an arrest. Obviously, I said yes. I wanted this guy in jail. My parents asked, “Can we wait until morning?”

“Yes, we will need time to process and interview. Is 11am okay?” the officer countered.

Everyone agreed on the time, and my parents and I went back to bed.

In the morning, just before 11, we arrived at the police station. Being only fifteen, I wasn’t allowed anywhere without my mum or dad with me. We sat in the reception on those cold, hard, metal bench-like seats that always hurt your butt if you sit for too long, and waited to be called through to tell them who it was that stole the stuff from our house.

It felt like we waited forever, but were finally called through.

We entered a room with one-way glass, so we could see them but they couldn’t see us. I sat on the stool in front of the screen, waiting for someone to bring the line-up through. A few moments passed, then they arrived. As they all got in to position, I looked. They all looked so similar, but I focused and suddenly remembered which one it was. I pointed to the tall boy who's face was covered in freckles, with mousey-blonde hair and pale skin; "That's him. I remember those freckles."

The detective who called us from the reception area nodded, "Thank you sweetheart. You've done a good job." He looked at my parents, "You should be proud. This kid is going away, he's hit his third strike"

They both smiled, mum pulled me into her side, hugging me tight while my dad kissed my opposite cheek.

As we turned around to walk towards the door to leave, I heard something. A hum. A song. A song that sounded familiar... But where was it coming from? I turned back to look, but none of the detectives or officers' mouths were moving like the music I was hearing.

I decided to look back through the glass.

That was the moment I decided that I would live my life without my soulmate; given that my soulmate was a criminal who broke into my house and potentially others...

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About the Creator

Gabbie Speirs

I write fantastical short stories that keep you coming back for more

Engish writer, world lover

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