The string hurt Elena. Wrapped tightly around her pinky finger, it tightened and loosened at random. Her finger went from bruised and aching to blood being cut off from it.
It was tortuous.
The Red Thread of Fate indeed. What an insufferable concept. Elena had been lucky enough to have been born with one. At least that’s what she thought it was; nobody else could see it. She’d asked others certain questions, hinting strongly at the existence of the string, but no one else seemed to have the same problem. At least, no one had any idea what she was talking about in her attempts to find out.
If this was indeed what she thought it was, there was only one way to permanently solve her problem: she had to find her ‘true love’.
Elena had looked into it. Apparently, if it were a man, the string would be around his thumb, and if it were a girl, it would be wrapped around her pinky, just like Elena. Despite her research, there was not much else she could do about it. Just some old myths and tall tales about the origins of it.
She could not cut it – she had tried. Scissors, knives, razors, rotary blades, even a chainsaw once. There was absolutely nothing she could do to damage it. Each time, it simply became tangled, biting into her skin and presumably her true love’s skin too. When she unraveled it from whatever violent instrument she had used, it was just as flawless as ever.
It was simply infuriating. Elena had considered cutting off her own finger, but something told her that the string would obstinately latch on to some other part of her, possibly more painful than before.
Elena, now nineteen years old, had not come any closer to finding her soulmate by just living her normal life. She decided that she’d had quite enough of this unrelenting beast of a string and it was time for a little journey.
The summer always came with an endless bounty of opportunities, summer break being a release from the obligation of education. Everyone loved it. Small children happily skipped out of school, and soon had an ice cream in one hand and a water gun in the other. Young adults breathed a sigh of relief after exams and prepared to make the most out of not having to study for a few weeks.
Elena had other plans, however. She was not going to spend much time lazing about in the back garden, sipping the sweet dew of sugar from a can and donning a bathing suit. She could do that all afterwards. For now, she filled her dinky car with fuel and threw a small suitcase into the boot.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright? Do you need money?”
Elena pulled down her sunglasses so that she could look her mother in the eyes. “I’m fine, thank you. I’ll be safe and sound once I reach Lucy’s house.”
Lucy did not exist. She was the fictional friend that Elena was ‘visiting’.
Elena’s mother nodded, her face deeply lined from years of laughing and worry. “Alright then. I’m trusting you to be safe, ok?”
“I know. It’s only a week or so.”
Elena had managed to persuade her concerned mother into allowing her to make this trip – her mother agreeing only because Elena had a history of staying out of trouble.
“Enjoy seeing your friend, then. Love you!” she called, waving as Elena began to pull out of the drive.
“Love you too. Goodbye.” Elena was soon on the road, the dust erupting into clouds behind her.
This was it. She was finally going to meet her true love.
Elena had noticed that whenever she moved northwards, the string became a little looser. It was tighter in every other direction. Therefore, the only logical action was to head north. The string had stopped being tangled in and around her home, and it stretched out the car window and along the road in front of her. This was the right direction.
Elena enjoyed being alone very much. This long car journey was bliss; she played her strange, alternative music from the car, allowing it to float out the windows and bless anyone that it happened to meet. She was crossing the desert, and felt as though she was a cool detective in a cowboy movie, trying to find the culprit of a deadly crime. The only thing missing was a gun and a raunchy sidekick.
Her view panned down to her poor, beaten-up pinky finger that sat on the wheel of the car, throbbing. It was getting a rest due to the slackened string. All according to plan.
She felt strangely excited. Her insides fizzed. Finally, finally, this was all going to be over. No more agony or thoughts of self-amputation.
She hoped, at least.
Elena kept a keen eye on the string and its direction and looseness the whole time. She honestly had no idea how long she might have to drive. Was she going to have to leave the country? There was no way of knowing. She passed a few towns, one small village, and a couple of ranches here and there.
Eventually she reached a town that was on her right. As she casually drove past it, the string suddenly went taut, and she let out a small gasp of pain and surprise. She sharply turned right, thanking the heavens that there was no one around to crash into or give out to her for being reckless.
Elena’s heart began to beat furiously. They had to be in this town, lurking some place or other. She then took a deep breath. This was was not the time to lose focus. She had to remain calm.
Luckily for her, a small hotel stood proudly in the suburbs. She glanced at her watch and thought it was best to call it a night. It was nine o’clock, and if she went to sleep now, she could be up in the morning to start searching.
She parked and took out her suitcase, locking her car and heading into the lobby.
There was a smartly dressed man behind the desk, and he watched her as she approached him. Despite the hotel’s size, it was beautiful. It was made of pale marble and smelled of fresh citrus fruits and lavender.
“Can I get a single room, please?”
The man smiled. “Of course. How many nights will you be with us?”
Elena thought for a moment. The town seemed fairly large, but she didn’t want to have to get messy with refunds and everything if she found her true love after only two days. She decided to play it safe with three nights; after all, she could always pay more if she needed longer. Elena was already looking forward to returning home
“Three nights.”
The man wrote something down. “Alright. Can I get your name?”
Once they’d sorted out the tedious details, Elena paid, and the man sent her in the direction of her room. The room was very charming, but Elena took care not to get too comfortable.
This wasn’t a holiday. This was a mission.
She did, however, take the luxury of having a shower in the fancy bathroom.
Before she did so, she remembered that she’d left her handbag in the car. She ran out to retrieve it, and as she did, she passed an old lady sitting on a bench under a blossom tree by the car park.
“I see you have the red thread of fate, young lady,” the old lady croaked in her husky voice.
Elena was about to brush her off when the words hit her. She stopped abruptly, turning around. “I… what?”
The lady gestured to Elena’s finger on which the string was tied. “Your string. I have one too.”
She did indeed. Except her one looked older, faded and worn.
Elena opened her lips and closed them again, planning out her words. “The red string. You have one too. Oh my…”
The lady nodded.
Elena gingerly sat on the edge of the bench, thinking of the best way to get information from this lady. She decided that it would be best just to plainly ask. “Please tell me more about it. You’re the only person I’ve met that has one as well.”
The lady looked at her with serene eyes, her long grey hair in a plait that reached her waist, and gnarled hands folded in her lap. “It’s only people with strong destinies that are born with one. Everyone has a fate, of course, but some are more intense… entrenched, perhaps, than others. You, my girl, have kismet radiating from your very being.”
Elena raised a skeptical and impatient eyebrow. This woman was rattling on about fortune and things that Elena did not care for; Elena just wanted to know how to ensure the string would never hurt her again. “Yes, but how do I find the person on the other end of the string?”
“Aren’t you already doing that?”
Elena patted her dark chestnut hair, trying to stay unflustered and reasonable. “I want to find them as quickly as possible.”
“Hm, eager,” the lady murmured. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”
“What? Why not?” Elena hoped the woman wouldn’t feed her some kind of ‘you have to fulfil your destiny by yourself’ rubbish, because then she really would lose her cool.
This was not the case. It was much worse.
The lady looked at her own ancient, battered finger and sighed. “Because even I haven’t reached that stage yet. But I have a feeling you’re closer than you think.”
So, this lady was of no use to Elena. Stubborn old hag. Elena’s face returned to its usual indifferent, cold expression and she stood up. “If that’s all you have to say, I must be going. Thank you for your time.”
The old lady smiled. “Good luck with your plan.”
Elena nodded, and as she walked away, her face contorted with conflicting emotions. That old lady was extremely strange. But she thought nothing of it. At least she knew that she wasn’t the only one.
The morning sunrise awakened with Elena and they both arose, determination burning.
Elena used the string to her advantage, and navigated through the town, patiently following its every move. It led her in all sorts of directions, in circles and down alleyways and Elena did it all. She had no idea where this person might be. Maybe they weren’t even in this town, and she’d have to travel further. But it was worth it. Just in case.
After two hours of wandering, it led Elena into a shop. She scowled, finally becoming annoyed that it was leading her on such a wild goose chase. But as she stepped through the doors, something inside of her jolted. She could feel a buzz in the tips of her fingers and her throat felt tight.
This was it. They were in here somewhere. The string was almost completely lax, so it was only a matter of following its erratic shape as it lay on the ground.
She took careful steps around shelves, down aisles and past people, her breathing hitched in anticipation.
She didn’t want this anymore. She wanted her own life. She wanted to be free. Nothing was going to stop her from having that.
That’s when it happened. Elena walked around the corner, into the magazine aisle.
There he was.
He was tall and lanky, with blond hair to his shoulders, and he looked about the same age as Elena. His neck was craned as he read a cinematography magazine, a soft smile playing on his lips. Around his thumb on his left hand was the string, tightly wrapped, which led right to Elena’s pinky finger.
This was him.
This was the man that Elena had to kill.
This was the man that Elena had to kill.
‘The Red Thread of Fate’ by Hanna-Rose Sullivan was originally published in Issue 2 of Paper Lanterns. Hanna-Rose was 15 when she wrote and submitted this story.
