Sandra (7): The Torture of Being HerMature

Sandra wandered away, feeling lost and hopeless. She didn’t know where she was going; she just knew that if she didn’t start walking, she’d start crying. If this was what soulmates were really like, it was just another thing about the world that depressed her.

Her feet stopped and she found herself in the kitchenette. She downed the rest of her drink and put the mug in the sink.

Roger, she thought suddenly. Roger was the one to go to, the one who would hug her, the one who wouldn’t stare at her like Rhyley had stared, the one who would make her feel at least a little bit better.

She tried the library first and struck gold. Roger was sitting in the reading corner, his book lying beside him, looking restless and worried. Sandra walked over to him and without a word planted herself on the chair next to him - picking up his book and putting it on her lap - and put her arms around him.

Roger was taken aback but held her back before saying anything.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked anxiously.

“Not... physically,” Sandra said quietly. “He wanted to know why I was chaste... and he didn’t like it.”

“Oh, Sandra,” Roger murmured.

Sandra took deep breaths, still holding in those tears.

“I’m so confused, Roger,” she whispered. “I thought Rhyley was meant to be my soulmate.”

“He is, Sandra,” Roger said, sounding uncomfortable.

“Then why doesn’t he understand?”

Roger sighed.

“I don’t know, Sandra. I’m sorry, but I just don’t know.”

“Is it always like this?” she wondered. “Are all soulmates in some way wrong for each other?”

Roger’s brow furrowed.

“Not really... Some are absolutely perfect for each other.”

Sandra felt sad and lost.

“Why should mine be wrong for me?”

But that was a question that Roger couldn’t answer. It was a question that Sandra guessed that no one could answer.


The End

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