The String Of Fate

As I lay in bed, I think about the images I saw last night when I touched that strange, handsome man's hand. They were... More beautiful than anything I'd ever seen, even the green of the fields in my daydreams. They were bright, doused in beautiful colors. The full rainbow. I stare at my fingers in awe. Red stood out the most. Red, like the string of fate. The string that connects one to their soulmate. I didn't believe in such things until I saw those images. Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo. Violet. The images flash through my brain once again, in rainbow order. Green. Ah, green. My favorite, always. Though some may think otherwise. Some may think my favorite would be red, because my name is Abaddon. My favorite things have absolutely nothing to do with my name. The name given to me by my birth mother, the one they called a whore, the one they always 'prayed' for. She died during child birth. My birth was quite the gruesome thing. At least, that's what the nuns at the orphanage told me. They called me a different name, though I don't remember what it was. I wasn't there for long before they threw me out. I never really fit in there anyway. I feel more at home when I'm by myself. Living with others just isn't really something I enjoy. My phone alarm blares, and I stare at it. Ah, time for work. I hop out of bed, and grab a random tshirt and some tight jeans before stepping into the shower and turning it on. It's cold. Must've forgotten to pay the water bill again. Oh, well. After about five minutes, I'm out of the shower and I slide on my clothes, putting my phone into my back pocket once I'm all dressed.