Faux Fire

• Elisha Church, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2013

“You know how this works don’t you?” my regular doctor Frank Arnam, asked with a smile as he adjusted the glowing necklace so it fell perfectly against my chest.
I nodded yes and returned his bright, straight-toothed smile as he pushed himself onto the examination bed, the sanitary paper crinkling beneath his weight, and leaned his face in his palm.
I took the quiet moment to inspect the examination room. It’s décor a reflection of the snowy London streets outside. A small red phone booth held several half-chewed pens, a small royal guard figurine sat with his little wooden legs dangling from a shelf overstuffed with folders. A plethora of tiny double-deck busses dotted the top of a filing cabinet below a trio of canvasses, each printed with an artful photo of a London landmark; the London Bridge at sunrise, Big Ben standing tall against the pouring rain, and the London Eye draped in fog. A long yawn drew my attention back to Dr Arnam.
He sighed heavily and said, “I still have to explain it though, doctors obligation.”
“I’m all ears,” I laughed though I knew exactly what he was about to say. This speech was droned at every fix and refit I had needed since I was sixteen. As he began, monotonous and boring, I followed along in my head, every word matching perfectly.
“These necklaces contain a stone that is chemically designed to react when close to its identical. There are only two of each stone created and are designed to bring together soul mates, therefore reducing risks of mental disorders or drug and alcohol abuse by bringing together two who would be happiest together. The stone reacts by heating up or glowing when close to its twin, any questions?”
“I have no questions Dr Arnam,” I assured him and shook his hand.
I stepped outside into the chilly wind and pulled my jacket hood around my face, trying to remember the way to the subways. I rubbed the frost from the ends of my mahogany hair as I strolled through the underground railway stations toward the timetables. Halfway to the timetable board an odd hissing noise began and I stopped mid-step to glance around.
It took me about two seconds to figure out it was me. My skin was burning. My necklace shone like a supernova and burned my skin red raw. Gasping, I flung the necklace away. A yell drew my attention away from the necklace in front of me and I turned around. Not ten feet from me, a tall and muscled man struggled to keep his white hot necklace away from his tanned skin. Carefully, he lifted it over his head and tossed it to the ground, eyeing it warily as he ran a hand through thick chestnut hair. His sky blue eyes flicked up and caught me staring. They widened and flicked to the necklace on the ground then back to me before I caught on.
It was him.
My soul mate.